Round & Round We Go! [CIS Dominion of Dirha]

[CC-420 "Doc"]

@[member="CC-117 Canal"]

"Well you see C;anal, I feel like if you didn't give others the feeling that you think you're Fett then maybe they wouldn't give you the eye. Drunkenness before a mission? An absolutely excessive amount of push-ups before a mission were everyone's life is going to be at stake in addition to the drinking. I mean, how do you expect anyone to believe you're operationally capable and reliable by any sort of military standard. Then the thing with the gunship, you've got the whole team wondering how you're not in the brig right now for destruction of military property. Seriously Private, you need to get it together before you get auto ejected in the middle of a battle." Doc said in his most serious tone.

He was honestly just doing his job as a NCO. Someone needed to put their comrade in his place so to speak.

 

[Darth Metus]

It seemed to the Mandalorian that there were no questions, and of course asking such was but a simple courtesy. After all, those he was commanding were an elite force; they took their orders and got the job done one hundred percent of the time. That said, Isley strode boldly forth from the Bridge and began to make his way down to the hangar bay. As typical, he was armed with his trio of lightsabers, his standard loadout of grenades and basic gadgets, and a duo of Machine pistols crafted by Czerka Arms. Upon arrival, the Mandalorian came to a halt and looked about the hangar for the Tart Cart.

 

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

Galaar climbed aboard the Tart-Cart as soon as he saw Isley entering the Hanger. Of course the strill would be right next to him, climbing into the gunship. The creature would then turn and look at Isley before maaking a rather strange yarping noise as if the creature was asking Isley to hurry up.

"I'm ready sir, c'mon! I have people to do and things to see!... Wait... That came out wrong, haar'chak."

@[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Djorn Bline]

After what Doc said to him, Jar said to him, "Thanks for the lecture and sorry for what I said to you. Don't worry man I'm like a terminator." *Pats on the back* "Now let's go kill some sith scumb." With that he ran to the LAAT and motioned Doc to hurry up. "This is going to be fun," Canal said when he hopped on board on the LAAT." With that he put a huge smile on his face.

@[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[CC-420 "Doc"]

Doc didn't wait for a reply before heading to the hangar to load up with the rest of his team. He had a mission to worry about. After nestling himself snugly into the seat designated for the medic. His seat. Doc triple checked his kit and loaded his proffered slug round into his eight gauge before looking at his blaster's power cell to make sure it was snuggly placed. Good. Explosives. Check. Everything else. Check. Checklist? Check.

Time to go.

 

[Darth Metus]

It was strange...though they were practically grown together, the clones all had different personalities and different ways of thinking. Some were silent whilst others were talkative. Some were mature while others were naive. It occurred to the Mandalorian that, in essence, even those born as adults had maturing to do. After the clones entered the hangar bay, Isley led the way to the LAAT dropship that awaited them and stepped inside, then made his way to the rear of the vessel. As was the norm, he sat in the rear of the ship and then signaled the pilot to ignite the engines.

"Everyone sit down and strap in."

 

[Jackpot Tal'Verda]

''Again, I'm sorry, vod.'' He said one last time before picking up his weapon up again and stepping back in line. He ignored the back and forth between the two other clone troopers and just listened to their objectives, until a particular man walked in. He looked a lot like a droid and also sounded like one. Jackpot decided to just ignore him for now, but he would keep an eye out for him and observe his every move.
When their superior finished he nodded and followed Galaar into the Tart-Cart. His comment made him chuckle a bit and he patted him on the back. ''Don't worry, vod, you'll get better.'' He then stood still and waited for the infamous Tart-Cart to take off.

 

[Djorn Bline]

Canal was making sure that he had everything with him: knife, blaster rifle, shotgun, and thermal detonators. Then he made sure his guns were loaded and had enough ammunition for all of his guns. He sat down and strapped himself in and looked at his comrades: they were all checking their equipment and mad sure they had everything. He then saw a droid and wondered who is that. The droid looked like robot on steroids. He then faced the colonel and said, "So let me get this straight we're going to start out at second fueling depot. When we're done with that we go on our separate ways, correct?" waiting for the colonel's response.

@[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Kage rolls his shoulders a bit from the pilots seat. Seems he wasn't going to be able to pilot his own ship this time.. Ah well. He flicks the switch that gives the Tart Cart life and closes all the doors. Then it was a matter of pulling up on the stick to get the ship into the air. The Tart-Cart floated up then, soaring off of the ship and to their target. It was going to be another interesting mission.

 

[CC-827 Tauranov]

Tau managed to hop aboard before the doors closed, having followed them all to, what some of them called, the Tart-Cart. Everytime that name rose up he smiled and repressed a childish laughter. Luckily the helmet forbid anyone from seeing even the smile.
When he found someqhwre comfotable to stay, he double-checked his weaponry: a blaster pistole attached to his left calf; a knife to the right; varying grenades (although most were either flash-bangs or ion grenades); and a rifle hung across his back by a large strap. It had a scope, not that he would need one on a mission like this, though.
For now he just sat back and enjoyed the ride.

 

[CC-420 "Doc"]

Doc followed his own personal checklist to the very last letter. He placed his scarred helmet on his head and began to leaf through everyone's vitals, call signs, and any other relevant medical information on file for these guys. Some of them were new, he lingered on those the longest, committing to memory former injuries and certain religious preferences. Doc also doubled as a priest of sorts if a clone wasn't going to make it, delivering last rites and passages for the soul.

 

[Darth Metus]

"That's correct." came the brief response of the Mandalorian. As soon as everyone had filed within the confines of the LAAT, its engines fired up and the vessel ascended into the air. It then quickly shot out of the hangar and began its voyage across the black of space, ultimately settling down at the Second fuel depot. The first to disembark was Isley himself, who then produced one of his machine pistols from his utility belt and said to all those who were behind him. "You know what to do, let's move out. On the double. The Empire's presence here ends today!"

 

[CC-192 Storm]

Storm sat in the corner of the transport, with empty seats all around him. Almost regimental, he wiped down the stock of his long-range rifle with a clean cloth, applied oil with another, and then smoothed it along again. He did this constantly, when he woke and when he was about to rest. A unclean weapon is an unclean death, as the instructors used to say. He did it for each weapon, and he did it silently. He made little noise normally, but this was worse - it was as if he could not talk at all, the honour and the significance of the weapons he held, and the duty he knew laid inside himself. It was innate, it had been drilled into him from birth. He was a clone; of the Dread Guard. His duty was to the Confederacy, and he would gladly die for it. But times change, now Storm had other thoughts. What if war and conflict was not all there was to him? What if he wished for freedom? Would they let him walk away? Will they? he wanted to ask, but he knew that even he would be too scared to answer that question. He didn't want to know. This was his future for now, fighting. And fighting was something he did good.

The Empire was their target. There was a few of them, but this one was the Sith one, or so he thought. Storm was a man of little words - when he did talk, it was usually a dark jibe, or a careful observation. The Sith had a fuel depot waiting for them. Verd was first out, as it always was. The Master was always first. Storm rose sharply from his seat, and hurried past his comrades, clutching his rifle to his chest. He had made sure he brought extra magazines, he would need it. Dropping his body from the landing craft, he rose the aim of the rifle and checked their flanks, moving swiftly, and ducking into some nearby cover, a low wall made of stone, and waited for his brothers to join them.

 

[Djorn Bline]

Canal instantly got up front from his seat and allowed the Colonel to go first. The colonel always goes first no matter. Canal got off as soon the Colonel got off and went beside him. "Oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy," Canal said with excitement as he got off from the ship. He heard what the Colonel said to all of them and moved out. He went out and crouched down and aimed his gun to all directions to announce if there were any enemies around them or in front of them. He continued doing this until everyone got out of the LAAT.

 

[CC-829 Wraith]

Wraith bundled out of the landing craft after the other troopers and immediately situated his eyes onto Storm diving into cover with expert athletic precision. He took a brief-but-informative glance of the area through the visor of his helmet before running towards the same cover Storm had crouched behind. Running to it, he slammed against the wall with a loud crash and slipped down into a crouching position. Whatever happened, he had orders to stick close to Storm. This time his superiors had made sure he was attached to this trooper. Apparently he was a good shot. Wraith hoped so, otherwise his visionary skills would have gone to waste on his dead-eye. His electrobinoculars were clenched tightly with his left hand whilst his left hung loosely by his shoulders. He hadn't bothered to withdraw a weapon yet, leaving the blaster pistol tucked comfortably into his utility belt.

Sparing a glance to Storm next to him in cover, Wraith gave him a brief nod of acknowledgement. "When you're ready." he said, swiftly and rhythmically checking and adjusting the settings on the electrobinoculars to suit the terrain and surroundings the troops had found themselves in. This was routine. This was simply the job. Wraith checked his utility belt was securely fastened around his exterior armor and sufficiently equipped with a removable gauntlet vibroblade and a standard combat knife. After the check, which took all of one second, he spun on his heels and took a glance over the low-cut wall Storm had taken cover behind. Immediately his elbows found themselves onto the tip of the wall and the binoculars went up to his eyes. He took all of two seconds to observe the surroundings in a rough one-hundred and eighty degree radius, scanning for potential threats and the like. Yep. This was routine.

 

[Bluejay Ungolfen]

Bluejay and Vex were right on Isley's heels, the blue-and-gray armored Dread Sister slightly ahead of the gray-and-darker-gray armored one. Assuming the group split in two, Vex would follow Isley's group, with Bluejay following the others to accomplish the other objective. If they split into more groups, then they'd need to re-calculate.

@[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[CC-192 Storm]

@[member="CC-829 Wraith"]

Storm glanced to his side, to the man who had crouched down beside him. His spotter. The man, Wraith. Storm dearly hoped the clone had eyes as sharp as a beskad, else his efficiency would be lessened considerably and he would not have that. He would not tolerate weakness. Not here. Storm gazed down, at the long range rifle in his grasp, clicking off the safety and making alterations to the stock to suit his needs, the scope pulled back closer to his visor, for ease of aim. All this was done with supreme efficiency, as was his way. He glared at his side once more and calmly spoke, despite the harsh surrounding. "What do you see?" That was all he needed to say, he hoped, his comrade should know what to specify on, potential threats, ranges, all that. The need for ruthless speed was required for their purpose, they needed to hit these Sith hard, precise and sharp.

 

[Djorn Bline]

Second fueling depot

As soon as everyone got out Canal got up and fast walked with his blaster rifle ready. He turned and made a 90 degree angle to his right an made a 180 degree angle to his left and pointed his gun as he made these turns. It was too quiet it didn't made any sense. The Sith would usually attack them by now. But this was still good cause none of them had to waste any ammo yet. "I think it's all clear, sir," Canal said in his comm link to the Colonel, "No Sith to be sighted at all." He then waited to be given the order to move out so he can go and free the slaves. "Also sir do I have to destroy the main fueling depot after I free the slaves," Canal asked to the Colonel.

@[member="Darth Metus"]

(OOC: guys I think it would be a good idea if put on our post where we are so that way we don't get confused)

 

[CC-420 "Doc"]

@[member="CC-777 Jackpot"]

"Ready brother?" Doc asked his other team mate with a grin concealed behind his unusual helmet. Their assignment had to be one of the best of the three. They got to fight at a GORRAM fuel depot! Doc could only think of the explosions. He leapt out of the LAAT and hit the ground running, following the small trail highlighted on his HUD toward the extremely awesome objective.

 

[Darth Metus]

Secondary Fuel Depot

Upon disembarking from the gunship, the Mandalorian reached out with the Force. He telekinetically plucked his saberstaff off of his utility belt and held it at the ready as he strode confidently forward. The Flagship of the Sith forces was docked not too far from their current position; and Isley fully expected to meet resistance along the way. "Let's move out!" he called, motioning for the Dread Guard forces to follow before taking off in a sprint. Upon rounding the corner, he signaled a halt, for Imperial Forces were marching about. They were few in number, but initiating combat against them would surely inspire swift reinforcements. However, there was no other option as far as infiltrating the Flagship.

Simply put, into the mouth of hell they marched.

"Pick your targets men...Fire!"

@[member="CC-420 Doc"], @[member="CC-117 Canal"], @[member="Galaar CC-252"], @[member="CC-935 Bluejay"], @[member="Kage CC-743"], @[member="CC-325 Sawtooth"], @[member="CC-777 Jackpot"], @[member="CC-827 Tauranov"], @