Jetii delenda est [ Mandalorian Raid of Ossus vs. SJO ]

[Zef Halo]

OSSUS
Silver Jedi Order Territory



Not how many but where ?

- Agis II





The Orar'uliik glided through the sky as it made its way to the designated insertion point. Standard approach to a raid by warriors expecting to be outnumbered, identical to the raid on Illum. Stealth and surprise was key. Communication channels were completely silent between the Mandalorians until they felt the ship land on the surface of Ossus. As soon as that happened, the warriors exploded into action pouring out of the ship.

A click or so away, a couple of other Orar'uliik ships did the same. The channels were back on line and orders were immediately given and executed. Grim walked out of the ship while his brethren stormed out, their hearts on fire for the battle that was to come. In one hand he held his helmet while the other took the cigarette from his mouth and tossed it away.

"Payment is overdue, Jetii." The Vizsla muttered under his breath as he looked at the direction where the Jedi temple was supposed to be. A very symbolic temple to the Jedi Order and today was the day Grim planned on incinerating it. Arasuum would not plague his people again.

Under the guise of the natural environment, the Mandalorian war machine unfolded its warriors with one destination in mind - the Jedi Temple of Ossus.

"<<Eyes open, vode.>>" Grim's voice came through the comm channel urging his fellow Mandalorians to be vigilant. "<<Oya!>>" Not long after that, a familiar authoritative voice came through everyone's comlinks.


"<<Shoot to kill.>>"





[member="Ronan Vizsla"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Isley Verd"] | [member="Marcus Lok"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Ijaat Mereel"] | [member="Causstik Rahn"] | [member="Mac O Shenanigans"] | [member="Kalad Shysa"] | [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"] | [member="Draco Vereen"] [felt like tagging ya] | [member="Neskar A'toll"] | [member="Dariak Talesa"] | [member="Oron Verd"] | [member="Kami Meran"] | [member="Brent Warnel"] | [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] | [member="Coci Heavenshield"] | [member="Connor Harrison"] | @SJO

 

[Brent Warnel]

He breathed in deeply. Letting the oxygen from his suit fill his lungs. He closed his eyes and felt the vibrations that were running through the deck of the ship course through his body. He let the sounds and sensations before the battle become part of him, let it calm him. If he didn't his mind would wander, and it was never good. He would always think back to the attack on Mandalore, and the reason he had not joined in the clans activities lately, not since Ember....

Brent shook his head and grabbed his helmet with both hands, cradling his head while the vision of the skirmish flashed through his mind. The blackness of space had never bothered him until that moment. Until he was floating through the debris of a torn apart space station where he should have died. He remembered the utter helplessness of seeing Ember ripped apart by the explosion. He hoped the man could have survived somehow, but he hadn't seen him since.

A heavy shuddering of the ship he was riding in shook Brent from his thoughts. He glanced around at the other Mando's in the bay with him, ready to fight or die, and he felt the familiar shimmer of pride for his people. Always moving on, moving forward, bettering themselves and the clans.

"Boots down in 30!" a voice said over the comm system.

Brent stood up and slung his blaster rifle across his back and held his Verpine Shatter Gun like it was the first time he had ever laid eyes on it. He made sure it was ready to fire, then checked his armor's internal systems. Green across the board, all ready to go.

In older times Brent would have been a team lead, checking his soldiers and readying them for battle. Maybe even giving an inspiring speech, but not any longer. He kept to himself now mostly. He would help his fellow soldiers even if it cost him his own life, he didn't doubt that, but the closeness he used to have with the other Mando's before battle had slowly faded. Now it was just business for him. A business he was good at.

The adrenaline and fury that had gripped him before was gone. Brent was a cold fighter now, no longer driven by rage and adrenaline. He wasn't sure if that was better or worse, but he had survived so it didn't really matter.

Brent counted down the time until the ship would hit the planets surface, and he wondered what would be in store for him. Ossus was still well defended by all accounts. Defensive turrets and ground emplacements from what he had researched. Whether they were manned was a different story though. Only time would tell he decided.

The drop-ship hit the ground of Ossus and the bay doors opened wide, spilling screaming Mandalorian soldiers onto the planet's surface. Brent joined the charge and moved for cover, evaluating the situation before he made any decision. The other soldiers moved into coordinated units and groups, setting up temporary cover or maneuvering up towards the objective.

"<<Shoot to kill.>>"

Brent heard the command, and he obeyed, raising his rifle and peering through the scope, looking for his first target. His deep breathing steadied his thoughts, and his hand, as he looked out over the battlefield.


[member="Grim Vizsla"] | [member="Marcus Lok"]

 

[Marcus Lok]

It had been a long time since he had last joined his brothers and sisters in any sort of engagement, the last ending in a total victory for the clans and their late leader who had been lost to the stars like so many others before him. If anyone knew what had become of Ra, he certainly didn't, and if it would have born any relevance to their current situation, he might well have asked. In the most recent months since the battle of Kashyyyk, the foundation of Clan Lok had been shaken to the core when his very own Alor'ad had been declared a traitor to the clans. He was confused when he'd first heard the news, but over short quips and explanations that lead to little more than further questions and slightly darkened looks from those he had once considered his friends, he stopped asking. She had fled, and fled well away from Mandalorian space... Probably for the best.

It had been hard at first to receive those glares, those accusing stares that seemed to attach her name to his in the most unhealthy sorts of ways. He was no traitor, and that was part of the reason he had decided to come back after a short hiatus. In the tension that followed that event, Marcus decided that it would be best for him to lie low on Nar Shaddaa, a planet that he had made his home after his mother's passing, and one that had served him well ever since. It was on this short leave that he had made a few new underground connections, other Slicers and Tech-Heads that made their livings through scams, blackmail, and the un-careful business that left their accounts unattended. They were good people, and although one of the most important among them detested his people and their way of life, he hardly saw any sense in severing that connection that he hoped might help him in the future.

A sudden jolt in the ship's movement would snap him back into the dimly red lit ready room of the assault ship where he worked on securing the Mechamiri pack to his armor. Truly it was his first piece of anti-forcer kit and the last thing he wanted was for it to slip off at the first blast of a grenade. Today, their target was a Jedi temple. It was not totally unlike the situation at Illum, and many familiar faces reminded him of the assault on the icy world which too had been an important stronghold for the Jedi and their ilk.

A few had already dawned their helmets, and it was only through sheer familiarity that he recognized the the taller soldier who had remained largely quiet throughout the journey, staring down at his rifle as opposed to looking at those around him that spoke eagerly of the slaughter they might bring to the Jedi once they landed. His name was Warnel... [member="Brent Warnel"], though the only real contact he had with the older man had been in an assault on the planet of Agamar in which they had cleared a dozen buildings together, not to mention the pursuit of a horrible monstrosity that had taken the lives of many vod before the situation was resolved... A bit further down the line, another familiar face. It was of course the favored Commander of the clan's forces, [member="Vilaz Munin"]. He was a man who'm Marcus felt the most comfort in following among the many old and grizzled warriors who charged their men to death's door on a daily basis, and he did it with much less of the feth-chatting that the others prided themselves do dearly on. No, he was a real down and dirty sort of leader, a man that could inspire a field mouse to charge the cat if he set his mind to it. It was not a hard decision to follow the old man into battle, and there was no doubt that his presence only inspired the gathered warriors into a near fervor...

There were others he could name, but Marcus found little time to think about them as the ship's repulsorlift system kicked into high gear to signal their descent through the atmosphere of Ossus. In one swift motion, his helmet fell over his head and secured to his body glove with a short and aggressive hiss. As the filtered air rushed into his lungs, he stood in line with the rest of the eager warriors who awaited the opening of the doors so eagerly, and when they finally opened, he held his rifle at the ready and rushed off the ramp towards a small formation of rocks near their landing site. It was quiet, and as his HUD selected multiple areas of interest across the small clearing that they had chosen to regroup within, none of them seemed to be particularly hostile... A few Cattail Deer wandered the area, sifting through choice vegetation, but as of yet no lightsabers flashed to life upon their arrival. Then he heard the command from a familiar voice that only brought a cold grin of confidence to his face.


"<<Shoot to kill.>>"

After taking a few more short glances over the protruding rocks, he began to make his way forward towards the taller vode who he had accompanied on Agamar. Even if he didn't feel like having a conversation, Marcus supposed he might as well join some sort of formation before they all pressed on towards the temple...


"Haven't seen you around in a while..."

 

[Dariak Talesa]

Mandalorians had been here before millenia ago. The Crusaders of old had fought alongside the Sith in what they called the 'Great Shadow Crusade'. Now they had returned in something that felt like providence to Dariak and he hated that. What had Hod Har'an done this time that he was being unleashed upon a Jedi world? Ossus of all places? He would have to ask the Apothecaries when he got back to Concord Dawn. For now the young warrior simply prepared himself mentally.

The dropship shuddered and rocked from side to side as it rode through the atmosphere of the planet. Within the troop compartment he sat with his eyes closed and simply let the pilot take him to his destination. He didn't want to fight the Jedi. If anything he admired them but orders were orders. He'd rather fight someone a bit more oppressive so that satisfied his inner moral qualms as well as his desire for a fight. He knew nothing of these Silver Jedi though and made it a point to remember to read the brief after this raid.

When the ship touched down and the ramps lowered Dariak found himself following the armoured rush onto the planet's surface. Only a few of his scouts followed him. Four to be in specific and they had brought their speeder bikes which they had started to push down the ramp. While the infantry rushed into position Dariak around around and swung one armoured leg over the seat of his bike and started up the engine. With a satisfying revving sound he and the four warriors he had arrived with kicked into high gear. Somehow the order for the shoot to kill made it all the more real.

As the bikes jolted off ahead of the formations Dariak opened up his helmet comms and let his cool Concordian accent give a matter-of-fact statement.

<c>"This is Callsign Recce 3. We'll be pushing ahead to see if we can't either spot or clear out their advanced positions. We'll mark strong points with beacons so you can provide accurate fire onto them. Recce 3 out."<c>




(Just a quick one before work boys and girls!)




[member="Ronan Vizsla"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Isley Verd"] | [member="Marcus Lok"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Ijaat Mereel"] | [member="Causstik Rahn"] | [member="Mac O Shenanigans"] | [member="Kalad Shysa"] | [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"] | [member="Draco Vereen"] [felt like tagging ya] | [member="Neskar A'toll"] | [member="Dariak Talesa"] | [member="Oron Verd"] | [member="Kami Meran"] | [member="Brent Warnel"] | [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] | [member="Coci Heavenshield"] | [member="Connor Harrison"] | @SJO

 

[Arage Bao]

Allies: Mandalorians -- [member="Grim Vizsla"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Isley Verd"] | [member="Marcus Lok"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Ijaat Mereel"] | [member="Causstik Rahn"] | [member="Mac O Shenanigans"] | [member="Kalad Shysa"] | [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"] | [member="Draco Vereen"] [felt like tagging ya] | [member="Neskar A'toll"] | [member="Dariak Talesa"] | [member="Oron Verd"] | [member="Kami Meran"] | [member="Brent Warnel"]
Enemies: Silver Jedi Order -- [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] | [member="Coci Heavenshield"] | [member="Connor Harrison"]
Objective: Burn them all.

"Haven't seen you around awhile." Ronan stepped up next to Grim, as they saw the Mando'ade flow out of their cloaked ships and onto Ossus itself. In truth Vizsla had no true ill feelings towards these Jetii of the Silver persuasion. But they were complacent and during their watch they lost grip of the Sith Worlds; this made them weak and Ronan could not abide by weakness.

"How's the leg?" There was a poodoo-eating grin behind his Crusader-style helmet, but Grim would hear it in the tone. Once... he had been the Alor of the Vizslas, yet, at one point or the other Ronan had been forced to take control. Their fellow vod'e had asked it of him and a blood duel occurred.

To Ronan it was nothing personal.

It was duty and he always followed his duty to Clan Vizsla.

Behind them Alkesh stepped up, his first brother, and he too looked at the warriors rallied to their banners. This wasn't an officially sanctioned mission by the Alor Council, it was why their armor was blackened, why no official sigils were showed and why no witnesses would be left alive. It was a statement, a declaration of purpose and motive.

The Mandalorian Clans were lagging behind again. Either Clan Vizsla would drag them out into the new world screaming, or they would fall.

 

[Kami Meran]

Kam sat on a bench trying not to look weak or tired to at least. she was almost shaking and not with nerves.
she was still recovering and had a lot of work to go to get to 100%, no not 100% 120%she was going to be better than she was.
she held her head in her hands in a almost meditative state.
in reality she was trying to collect her thoughts and keep her mind of her brain.

 

[Neskar A'toll]

From within the dark coffin, a ceaseless quiet thickened, a blinking red light murmured a cry of death. A whirr and a click, the cloud gave way for the steel beasts, descending from orbit with heaven-sent thunder, as their engines roared, cried, wept with the coercing shove of the pilots. The ground took the weight of the ships well enough, then vague cracks outlined the landing gear, betraying the earth's taut dryness.

Then, the metal doors parted with a hiss, beams of light flooding the packed interior. Ridding themselves of fear, the bravado of each warrior swelled, their eyes draping over the fresh pulp of a new target; their hearts raced with a flurry of fury. Their iron will fuelled each step, they drove themselves from idle rest, thrusting out into the expanses of Ossus.

Neskar frowned. I get a strange feeling from this place. He mulled over events in his head, his eyes sharp shapes behind the black void of his helmet's visor; battle-scarred and bruised, yeah, that was what his armour was like. It fit like an aged leather glove he'd worn for many years, he knew the armour as much as he knew his own skin in truth.

He had joined up with his race's raiding party some time ago. Travelling the depths of the Unknown Regions had taken it out of it him, indeed; he felt a longing for home. And nothing quite felt like home than destroying another person's, right? Yeah, something like that. Neskar took off from the earth, finding the familiar squads form, old comrades flashing knowing looks under their helmets, a grin on their coarse faces. Deciding to take an old adage of going head-first, he stalked the path of the older Vizsla and the younger one, though he couldn't quite tell which one was which. The girth of his rifle filled his gloved hands perfectly; the weight of the potent slugs inside kept reminding him of his duty to his people. Bounty hunting aside, this is pretty fulfilling. Neskar betrayed himself a bit, smiling under his helmet as he followed his borthers. Yeah. Pretty good after all.

<<Shoot to kill...>>

"Sounds like a plan to me, Vizsla."

Ronan Vizsla | Vilaz Munin | Isley Verd | Marcus Lok | Keira Ticon | Ijaat Mereel | Causstik Rahn | Mac O Shenanigans | Kalad Shysa | Taryc Ap'Irae | Draco Vereen | Dariak Talesa | Oron Verd | Kami Meran | Brent Warnel | Thurion Heavenshield | Coci Heavenshield | Connor Harrison | [member="Grim Vizsla"]

 

[Sorel Crieff]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBShN8qT4lk

Even from an altitude of a thousand meters, the Jedi academy on Ossus looked enormous. Spread across a verdant space between a lush mountainside and a gloom-filled rift valley, its tidy sweeps of green turf were surrounded by burgeoning plots of foliage and connected by snaking ribbons of grey paving stone.

Sorel pointed her ship to the landing pad – cut into the side of the mountainside and once she disembarked, took the long walk to the Academy itself. It was long not because of the distance, but because of tradition – as Sorel knew so well.

The route to the Academy meandered through the grounds, winding through a labyrinth of shrubbery and detouring past carefully planned vistas, following a path of tightly placed stepping-stones that deliberately forced walkers to slow down and contemplate the garden.

The path rounded a gentle bend, and a dozen meters ahead, the trapezoidal span of Clarity Gate framed a tranquil courtyard accented by a small fountain. Sorel was aware that a Padawan rushed past her and looked to pass under the crosspieces without stopping.

“Forgotten something?” Sorel called softly. “What must a Jedi do as she enters the Academy grounds?”

The Padawan began by rolling her eyes before bowing to the Jedi Knight. In a faltering voice she added, “I don't have time to meditate right now.”

Sorel remained impassive, her arms by her side, even though there was a will to cross them in front of her right now. “Really? Is that an excuse for ignoring the rules.”

“I am late for a lesson.”

“And the sooner you complete your meditations, the sooner you will get there.”

“But…”

A clicking noise sounded in Sorel’s throat.

“Master,” the Padawan began and Sorel ignored the inaccurate title for now. “Do you think my Master would want me to be late?”

Sorel smiled. “If this were a lesson in reasoning, you’d be already at an advanced stage. But today, and here and now, the lesson is in obedience.”

“I'm sorry, Master.” The voice was a combination of frustration and remorse. “But I can’t afford to be late again.”

“It is when we are most anxious that meditation becomes even more important.” Sorel closed her own eyes and cleared her mind of thoughts and emotions.

The Padawan focused her attention on the fountain and began a Jedi breathing exercise. A minute or so later, both Jedi were walking towards the Academy. “I never advocate blind obedience but rules are rules and are set for a reason. Understand?”

The Padawan grinned. “When I feel I least have time to meditate – that is the time it is most important?”

“Correct,” said Sorel. “Now I’m continuing at a leisurely pace, I won’t mind if you pick up your own speed. And it's Sorel by the way. I'm not a Master, and even if I were, you should call me Sorel.”

 

[Verz Horak]

Allies: Mando'ade: [member="Grim Vizsla"] | @Vilaz Munin | @Isley Verd | @Marcus Lok | [member="Keira Ticon"] | @Ijaat Mereel | [member="Causstik Rahn"] | @Mac O Shenanigans | @Kalad Shysa | @Taryc Ap'Irae | [member="Draco Vereen"] | @Neskar A'toll | @Dariak Talesa | @Oron Verd | @Kami Meran | @Brent Warnel
Enemies: SJO
Objective: Kick ass and drink tihaar

The stealth gunships had disgorged their cargo of soldiers, Verz Horak among them. He hefted his Monroe-Horak rifle with a practiced ease, showing little sign of the wounds he had suffered while imprisoned. His armor had been blackened like the others, for this stealth raid, but it still bore a stripe of red, a personal choice. He was ready for a good fight, and Kad'Haringar willing, he would get back to Mandalore and [member="Arla Balor"] safely. If he didn't make it, well then he would at least die in battle.

The other Mandalorians were ready for battle, and so was he. Unlike many of the newer faces he saw, however, Verz had experience fighting Force users. They would fall before him like others had before. He did feel somewhat bad about fighting Jedi, as he had once been friends with several of them, and a Grandmaster had saved his life, while another had traded his for the safety of his own people on Mandalore. But he had to harden his heart, and do his duty to the Mando'ade.

Verz approached the rest of the warriors, already ready to fight and kill. Who knew, maybe he would find a challenging opponent.

 

[Draconis Caesar]

Draco sat atop a tall stone amidst the palace garden, beside him ran a small stream, and by that grew a willow tree. He felt the rock beneath him. It's rough texture, its cool surface. He heard the streaming water, saw its crashing waves. He felt the wind flow through the tree, and became one with its dancing limbs. The padawan was in deep meditation when he sensed something. It was a foreigner here.

It had a malice intent about it. It meant harm. He saw the temple. It burned. Thousands dead. Draco's eyes shot open and he found himself drenched in sweat. It was only a dream, he lay in his bed. Stripped down to his night trousers. It was morning now and a light mist was creeping through the temple. The fog of war.. Drifted through Dracos mind ominously. He had to warn the grand master. The main grounds were fairly distant from Draco's quarters, so he ran.

He ran through the garden. He ran past his sacred grove. He approached the walls and cried out to the gatekeeper.

"I have a message for the grand master!" That's when the first of them came. Draco heard it before he felt it. A loud bang then a sharp stab in his back. He fell to his knees and his lightsaber came on with a hiss. He held it behind his back, as the gate opened. He crawled inside and rolled onto his back. His breathing had become heavy. His vision was blury. Suddenly their were guards all around him, they were lifting him onto a stretcher. His head was raised a fraction and he saw what appeared to be an army of T-Visor's approaching the temple walls...

 

[Brent Warnel]

Brent scanned the landing zone of Ossus, looking at the Jedi Temple far above him. The temple was huge, a vanguard against the forces of evil. Or..in this case, Mandalorians. He wondered how the Silvers would fare against his people in this battle. So far, none of the enemy troops had come out to contest the Mando's landing on the planet. He knew the Jetii had been alerted ships had entered the atmosphere, but where were the enemy combatants?

He scanned the temple and the land that led up to it, wondering where the battle line would be drawn. He was deep in concentration when he heard a voice next to him, "Haven't seen you around in a while..."

Brent cocked his head to the side to see another Mando had taken his place next to him. Brent's mind catapulted back to a different raid on a different planet a long time ago. Agamar...

Brent remembered the battle on Agamar all too well. It had cost him his old armor and a few broken bones, but it was a fond memory of fighting with old friends. The city was all buildings and glass. Delicate and beautiful, no place for a battlefield. That had been evident when his people had reduced whole city blocks to rubble and killed countless numbers in their conquest of the world. It had been a good fight though, one he had learned a lot from.

Brent smiled, "Marcus, I've been....quite of late I must admit."

Marcus was a younger Mando, but a good fighter, he had proven that to Brent easily. Brent only had known the man briefly, but he was good in Brent's eyes as far as he was concerned.

The familiar thrill of battle started to emanate from deep inside of Brent's being as he remembered the old battles he had been in. Brent looked out towards Ossus a little differently this time, wanting the enemy to show themselves.

"It's a lot different from Agamar isn't it?" Brent asked [member="Marcus Lok"]



[member="Verz Horak"] | [member="Sorel Crieff"] |[member="Neskar A'toll"] | [member="Kami Meran"] | [member="Ronan Vizsla"] | [member="Dariak Talesa"] | [member="Grim Vizsla"]

 

[Dariak Talesa]

The five speeder bikes hummed along the landscape in front of the Mandalorian formations. So far no one had dared take a pot shot at them but their style of reconnaissance or 'recce' as Dariak called it was risky. There had probably been scouts on Ossus days, weeks even, before the first pair of Mandalorian steel boots thudded onto the world. Yet their presence seriously hadn't gone unnoticed? Surely? The Jedi were known for their keen senses and acumen in battle. The lack of resistance only served to make the Mandalorian nervous.

In diamond formation with one of the scouts in front, a woman, the bikes continued towards the temple to get the lay of the land. The plan for Dariak was that unless resistance was met he would set up a snug little observation point to spy on the Jedi in their bunkers and defensive points. To provide a live sketch of what the enemy had planned to do to repel them. He figured he'd let command know what he was up to since obviously it paid to have them know where all the pawns were.

"Command." he started, chiming into [member="Grim Vizsla"] 's helmet comms. "This is Recce Three. We're heading towards the temple now to establish OP, break. Will determine enemy strength and disposition, break. Can also serve as forward observers for indirect fire. Got all that boss?"







[member="Ronan Vizsla"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Isley Verd"] | [member="Marcus Lok"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Ijaat Mereel"] | [member="Causstik Rahn"] | [member="Mac O Shenanigans"] | [member="Kalad Shysa"] | [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"] | [member="Draco Vereen"] [felt like tagging ya] | [member="Neskar A'toll"] | [member="Dariak Talesa"] | [member="Oron Verd"] | [member="Kami Meran"] | [member="Brent Warnel"] | [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] | [member="Coci Heavenshield"] | [member="Connor Harrison"] | @SJO

 

[Mav Halo]

Allies: Mando'ade { [member="Grim Vizsla"] | [member="Brent Warnel"] | [member="Marcus Lok"] | [member="Dariak Talesa"] | [member="Ronan Vizsla"] | [member="Kami Meran"] | @Neskar A’toll |[member="Verz Horak"] | etc }
Enemies: Silver Jedi Order { [member="Sorel Crieff"] | [member="Draconis Caesar"] | etc }
Objective: Rock and/or Roll, kids.

“Ain’t two ways about it, that iss one mighty ugly fether.” Kalad remarked dryly as he regarded the holo readout before him, the electric blue lines converging to paint a rather grim and stark picture of the enemy fortifications that surrounded the temple. A fortification that was crafted, much like the Mandalorians themselves, with a singular, deadly purpose in mind. One they would all too quickly discover if they allowed themselves to be drawn into a protracted engagement. Be an utter chakaar if they tried to bypass completely, too. Those Firemane folk knew their trade alright.

If they day went as planned, hopefully they could say the same about them with the same measure of respect.

“Jesh,” He spoke up after a moment or two of reflective silence, his gaze sweeping across the two dozen or so souls that had lingered behind in the dropship until they found a familiar looking set of broad shoulders. They might have been wearing the same, uniform black-and-grey painted beskar’gam, but someone as large as Jesh Shysa would always stand out in a crowd. The woman was a veritable giant among men. “You must’ve karked someone over royally in a past life, ‘cause I’m putting you in charge of the verd’ika. Try not to get them killed ‘fore I learn all their names, ‘lek?”

Impassive as always, a silent nod was all the answer he would receive, or need, to know the task was well in hand. She was a good woman that Jesh. She had the type of dependability you wanted in someone watching your back. Kalad found himself actually liking her. Of course, the fact she was monumentally terrible at pazaak hadn’t hurt the formation of that notion.

“I want you to take them on ahead aways, swing ahead of the main advance and set up a watch post to the north of the base. We need eyes on that chakaar as soon as possible. “

There was a slight snort of amusement from one of the faceless t-visored mercenaries assembled, no doubt amusing themselves over what would ostentatiously be a babysitting gig. The verd’ika was decidedly accurate after all. A third of the force Kotii, the alor of Aliit Shysa, had allotted him was raw faced recruits that were barely a handful of summers past their verd’goten. A token, piece meal force designed to both appease Kalad’s sense of obligation and rebuke him at the same time, no doubt.

A flicker of something irritable and dangerous slithered through the Morellian before he shoved it aside, forcing himself to instead focus on the task at hand. Tomorrow’s battles could wait a spell. “The rest of us are following Vizsla’s lead on this. His will, our hands.”

He reached for his helmet, ignoring the mutterings that such a decision would inevitably bring about. Clan Shysa and Clan Vizsla hardly had the most amicable relationship after all. Too much spilt blood and unresolved grudges, many of which so ancient that few could even remember the exact details of what hat transpired in the first place. “If you have a problem with that, you’re more than welcome to stay on the drop ship, tay’li’bac?”

The blissful silence of begrudging obedience. Was there ever a sweeter sound?

“Good. Now go make your Kal'buir proud, kids. ”

 

[Arage Bao]

Allies: Mandalorians -- [member="Grim Vizsla"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Isley Verd"] | [member="Marcus Lok"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Ijaat Mereel"] | [member="Causstik Rahn"] | [member="Mac O Shenanigans"] | [member="Kalad Shysa"] | [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"] | [member="Draco Vereen"] [felt like tagging ya] | [member="Neskar A'toll"] | [member="Dariak Talesa"] | [member="Oron Verd"] | [member="Kami Meran"] | [member="Brent Warnel"]
Enemies: Silver Jedi Order -- [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] | [member="Coci Heavenshield"] | [member="Connor Harrison"]
Objective: Burn them all.

He could feel it.

The excitement in the air. The early smoke rising as tensions were uncoiled and the heat in the blood rose. It wasn't anything surprising to Ronan himself. His people were people of action. Some wished to bloviate, but his wished to move, to fight, to act instead of talking over and over again.

"Roger that, Recce Three." Vizsla reacted on the comm, before setting it back to their shared frequency for his brothers and sisters to hear. "Be advised, when we broke atmosphere the sensors picked up a fortification standing vigil over the Jedi Temple. Stay wary."

His attention shifted once again, now to Alkesh and Grim, gesturing with his head for them to roll out.

They could stand here all day by the shuttles... but the Temple wasn't going to sack itself. On the way they linked up with the Shysa forces and some minor grumblings passed between the two groups. It only served to remind him that even with Ra paving the way towards a prominent role for Vizsla in the Clans, there was still a lot of animosity.

Something would have to be done about that.

"Shysa, good of you to join us." Ronan addressed Kalad with a nod, before continuing on.

 

[Kami Meran]

Kami looked in to her reflection in the visor of her helmet.
it wa undeniable she didn't look 16. poodoo she was 16. heck she almost forgot that.
but here she was looking like a mummified version of her self.
But.. no NO SHE WAS NOT GOING TO LET HER OWN BODY KILL HER.

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

Objective: Reinforce and assume command of defenses
Location: Aegis Base
Allies: [member="Coci Heavenshield"] | [member="Sorel Crieff"] | [member="Draconis Caesar"]
Enemies: [member="Grim Vizsla"] | [member="Brent Warnel"] | [member="Marcus Lok"] | [member="Dariak Talesa"] | [member="Ronan Vizsla"] | [member="Kami Meran"] | [member="Neskar A'toll"] | [member="Verz Horak"] | [member="Kalad Shysa"]

Even a smaller-sized ship such as the Orar'uliik would have a hard time approaching a Jedi world unnoticed; since the recent raids carried out within Silver-protected space scanners have been on high alert, with every hint of vessels carrying hostile intent being investigated. The brave men and women stationed at Aegis Base surrounding the Jedi Temple on Ossus sent word to Voss, catching the attention of the Grandmaster himself. Reinforces were quickly dispatched, but they could not risk the time it would take for them to arrive. To counter this, Thurion headed for Ossus with all haste using his own ship, the Oathkeeper, in an attempt to intercept the Mandalorians. One half cannot not depart without the other, however, and so Coci insisted that she join him.

Arriving ahead of their reinforces as planned, reports came in from Aegis Base: The enemy was at the gates. Deciding there was no time to waste, Thurion didn't bother finding a landing zone for his ship. Instead he passed the controls over to Teetoo and together with Coci he made for the drop pods. "We'll have to make a high-velocity drop," he told her while strapping her to her seat inside the pod. "Teetoo will take the ship back into orbit once we're off." Once she was secure he looked her in the eye before placing both hands upon her cheeks as he leaned in for a kiss. "We'll be fine, I promise you." He then strapped himself into the second seat, opposite of hers.

The reinforced durasteel door shut close, and before they knew it the pod detatched itself from the Oathkeeper, launching itself towards the base far below. The drop pod shook fiercely from the sheer speed of their drop, with Thurion extending his hand towards Coci for her to hold onto. It would only take a minute for them to hit the ground at their current velocity, and already the pod would begin its landing procedures, breaking their freefall so that they would not just crash against the planet's surface. "Come on, baby - hold together..." With one last rumble they'd touched ground, landing relatively softly not too far from their intended destination. As the door slid open their straps came undone, and after making sure Coci was alright he stepped out into the fresh air of Ossus with a bit of an unsteady walk. "See? Nothing to worry about..."

 

[Zef Halo]

"Memorable." Grim's reply came wryly as he felt the buried pain in his leg.

The limp was gone, only appearing periodically, but the scar that remained served him as a memento of the fight he lost against the man besides him. Ronan Vizsla was now the Alor and during Grim's self-imposed exile, an ageless man had stepped up from the ranks to claim the title of Mand'alor and lead the warriors on a crusade that crushed the era old Galactic Republic. Grim never had the chance to meet the man but the least he could do was continue his legacy, bring glory to the Mandalorians.

Ronan shared the same sentiment.

And here they were on the Jedi planet of Ossus moving through the bushes and woods, heading towards the heavily fortified Jedi Temple. One of the oldest Jedi temples that existed is what Grim was told. Thus, a perfect demoralizing target. Those that had joined Clan Vizsla's assault on Ossus felt the same. The Jedi had almost always been those that stopped the Mandalorians from their conquest. That had to change.

Reports from the recon forces ahead made him stop and access the little bits of sensor info on the fortification of the Jedi Temple on his HUD. A gesture from his fellow Vizsla made him move again.

"<< That looks really solid, y'know. >>" He stated as a matter-of-fact rather than implying to back out. "<< More than I expected from Jedi. Sometimes I wonder who is more well-versed in the art of war. >>" Grim sneered underneath his helmet while proceeding through the thicket carefully paying attention on the feedback that he received on his HUD.




[member="Ronan Vizsla"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Isley Verd"] | [member="Marcus Lok"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Ijaat Mereel"] | [member="Causstik Rahn"] | [member="Mac O Shenanigans"] | [member="Kalad Shysa"] | [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"] | [member="Draco Vereen"] [felt like tagging ya] | [member="Neskar A'toll"] | [member="Dariak Talesa"] | [member="Oron Verd"] | [member="Kami Meran"] | [member="Brent Warnel"] | [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] | [member="Draconis Caesar"] | [member="Sorel Crieff"] | [member="Verz Horak"]

 

[Dariak Talesa]

Location: 800 meters from Aegis Base
Strength: 4 Tal'kad Verde (Callsign Recce 3)


Allies: Mandalorians -- [member="Grim Vizsla"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Isley Verd"] | [member="Marcus Lok"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Ijaat Mereel"] | [member="Causstik Rahn"] | [member="Mac O Shenanigans"] | [member="Kalad Shysa"] | [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"] | [member="Draco Vereen"] [felt like tagging ya] | [member="Neskar A'toll"] | [member="Dariak Talesa"] | [member="Oron Verd"] | [member="Kami Meran"] | [member="Brent Warnel"]
Enemies: Silver Jedi Order -- [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] | [member="Coci Heavenshield"] | [member="Connor Harrison"]




The fortress, Dariak thought, was a monster. A military marvel. A cluster of anti-ground and anti-air firepower designed to do one thing and that was to decimate an army. After ditching their speeder bikes beneath torn down trees the scout squad had set up their observation point. The Mandalorians had dug their fighting pits and covered them up with the foliage as best they could. Over their plate armour they wore camouflage ponchos and capes to help blend into their surroundings. There they lay with micro-binoculars and scopes pressed to eyes. They had even set up a holo-feed so the Vizla's could see what they saw.

Dariak slid back into his fighting hole and brought up his communicator. "Recce Three to Command. We've set up a small OP to the south of the fortress. We've got eyes on a pretty nasty little lockbox. Plenty heavy weapons with overbearing arcs. We've also seen a shield generator to the west of the complex that will prevent any indirect fire support. We've marked the heavier guns for your targeting pleasure however...Recce Three requests we go in quiet. Werda-like to try and disable the southern gun."

He didn't know how the Vizlas would respond to that particular suggestion. Dariak was a skilled scout. As were his warriors. Sowing chaos and stabbing the enemy in the back was what they were good at. Go in, hit hard, disappear. Yet the Mandalorians had come here with full war regalia and were probably looking to smash their way in no matter how many warriors died. No. That was giving Aliit Vizla too little credit. They knew what they were doing. He just hoped they knew that he knew what he was doing.

 

[Neskar A'toll]

That's big, was his first thought. He pressed his body against the trunk of the tree, his composure taut and compressed. Allowing a slip of vision past the aged bark of the monolithic tree, his eyes squinted, analysing the extremities of the base's defences. Yeah, pretty big. They stretched long and wide, deep-dug trenches scarring the landscape, a military cocoon enclosing the wealth within.how the age-old adages of peace and tolerance had seemed to forgo the users of the Force; though the common sense wasn't lost on him that perhaps it was for good reason, the weak were targeted by the strong, the way of the galaxy for many a year.

Hardly the noble crusader himself, Neskar soon considered the elements of foul play, and sabotage; he thought, assuming, that the base must surely have some form of shielding (confirmed by reports), his eyes scanning the ridges of the plateau that sprouted from the earth, towering above the obelisk of a temple. A breeze shifted the leaves above, a gentle current that withered and grew to the chirps of birds, their wings rustling, disturbing branches as the iron men creeped below on the forest floor. The canopy above them must have covered some form of approach, Neskar assumed, feeling the drag of his eyes, shifting to a disturbance in the blue sky above. A ship? Dropping something off, looks like it. Tapping the side of his helmet, he murmured down the microphone, transmitting his voice across the closed frequency they were using.

<< Looks like we aren't even gonna' get close with that shield in the way. We oughta' take it out quick. Generator seems to be on that plateau up there.>>

Ahead bristled a torrid number of defences, gun-nests brooded menacingly, as the window of opportunity began to expand and show itself fully, begging to be seized. Yeah. Calm so far.. but not for long.

Ronan Vizsla | Vilaz Munin | Isley Verd | Marcus Lok | Keira Ticon | Ijaat Mereel | Causstik Rahn | Mac O Shenanigans | Kalad Shysa | Taryc Ap'Irae | @Draco Vereen | Dariak Talesa | Oron Verd | Kami Meran | Brent Warnel | Thurion Heavenshield | Draconis Caesar | Sorel Crieff | Verz Horak

 

[Marcus Lok]

Marcus observed Brent with a bit of confusion that was well concealed behind the T visor that had come to characterize those brave warriors of the clans. When he had first met the man, Marcus had thought him one of the more energetic veterans that he had seen, but now he seemed... Well... Different. Considering how out of touch he had been with the happenings of his vod and their experiences since the battle of Kashyyyk, he couldn't quite rule out the possibility that perhaps something had happened to change the man who had so eagerly pursued a beast through the shattered glass towers of Agamar with ease.

"You can say that again... How's it been since then?"

Normally he might not have pursued any sort of conversation but he felt the need to press slightly at the man who he had hardly gotten the chance to speak with during the furious assault on Agamar. Of course he would not press too far into his personal troubles and when the first men ahead of them stood and continued their covert approach to the temple, he gave a friendly punch to the shoulder pad of the reserved warrior and pointed onwards, towards the low brush.

"Better get a move on... I'm stickin' with you."

He hefted himself onto his feet, quite surprised that the Mechamiri pack had not offered him more resistance. In his hands, the device was heavy and seemed bulky, but once it was appropriately fastened around the back of the wearer... Well... He certainly couldn't complain! In the back of his mind he hoped he really got it in with a Jedi during this raid, and if not for the allure of battle in all of its' muted glory, then for the sake of his own honor that he hoped he might be able to win back after the incidents that had plagued him for the last few months.

​

[member="Brent Warnel"] / [member="Neskar A'toll"] / [member="Dariak Talesa"] / [member="Grim Vizsla"] / [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] / [member="Kami Meran"] / [member="Ronan Vizsla"] / [member="Kalad Shysa"] / [member="Verz Horak"] / [member="Sorel Crieff"] / [member="Draconis Caesar"]​