Siege On Ryloth {CDF}

[ToKola Bakari]

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SIEGE ON RYLOTH ​

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The Confederacy has come under attack once again.

While the bulk of The Confederacy's expeditionary fleets are deployed into the galaxy, many planets have been left with only their Planetary Defense Forces to defend their homes.

Each world maintains a standing army and fleet compliment to ensure their safety. While these forces are not significant in battles spanning the galactic map, they are invaluable when the bulk of The Confederacy's resources are shifted elsewhere. There are few worlds with such a powerful Defense Force as Ryloth. The home of the Twi'leks is a planet of burden, in the tactical mindset of the military. It is both a core world to the CIS and a world that marks the southern border of the nation. If Ryloth were to fall, then the Confederate capital of Geonosis would have a blade at it's throat.

If Ryloth were to fall, then Geonosis would be next.

So for years, the Naval officers of the 72nd Rylothian Defense Fleet have remained vigilant. They produce a bold claim, "We are the Guardians of Geonosis, none shall pass." Paired with the 22nd Rylothian Defense Brigade, who call themselves the "Rangers of Ryloth" it would be considered an impossibility to breach the Southern Border, so for years it has remained uncontested.

Until now.

The fleet descended upon the world with a vicious strike. It was perfectly planned. The first ships to erupt from Hyperspace immediately breached the blockade that defended the world. The cloaked fleet-runners were impressive in their piloting skills. Weaving around the 7snd Defense Fleet and directing their surgical strike straight for the planet's heart. Before they could be fended off, the invader's had created a foothold. They claimed land on the Southern part of the world, using specialized jammers to stop the fleet above from simply bombarding them to hell. Once their landing force had claimed it's place, they deployed their own elite force. The Hellfire Marines.

These warriors pushed forward, thousands strong with the intent of laying waste to the Confederate Forces on Ryloth. And for the first few days of battle, they did.

The Hellfire marines were masters of Planetary Warfare. If not for Ryloth's particular difficult terrain, they would have likely overrun the Confederacy in the first week. However, they did not count on the Southern Barrier Fortress. There is only one pass leading to Ryloth's capitol and it is guarded by a monstrosity of a wall. A fortress that seems to rise to the skies, filled with automated blaster turrets. It has been deemed as the last stand for Ryloth's capitol. The Hellfire marines are wise, they know the forces guarding that fortress can not hold out forever, so they are content to wear them down, day after day. The question is, how long can they hold out?

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Order of Battle​

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72nd Rylothian Defense Fleet: The 72nd Defense Fleet is the envy of all Planetary Defense Forces. Roughly 10,000 km of Fleet, they are charged with the defense of this world. The Strike Force that managed to slip past them was not their only enemy. The fleet has found itself surrounded by an Armada of nearly four times it's size. The enemy Armada does not seem to be engaging the Defense Fleet, merely prohibiting them from leaving the system and continually jamming all communications. Occasionally small strike forces will strike at the Defense Fleet, but this seems to be done to keep the fleet on edge, rather than actually eliminate them. Today marks the first day where the fleet's supplies are beginning to dwindle, how long can they continue to keep the planet safe from a full invasion? If they do not hold out, Ryloth will fall.

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22nd Rylothian Defense Brigade: The Rangers of Ryloth are filled with pride. Mainly composed of Twi'lek warfighters, they are generational veterans who have always stood ready to aid The Confederacy. They have made their stand at the Southern Barrier Wall. Resources from Ryloth's capitol are slowly trickling in, however they are getting noticeably smaller and less frequent. Soon they will stop all together. This means nothing to the Defense Brigade, because the moment they fail, the capitol will fall. If they do not hold out, Ryloth will fall.

As a Service Member of the CDF you have been tasked to one of these two units. Fight well and survive as long as you can!

Spoiler

OOC: Good Morning everyone. Welcome to our latest Campaign for the CDF. This Campaign will feature something new. Through the thread, there will be a number of timeskips. These timeskips will be done by a CIS Staff member and will detail the events over the last few days/weeks/months. ICly this battle will take between three to eight months from start to completion. The time skips will identify what day it is, what has happened, and what the current situation is. There will be a number of "modifiers" that your character will be expected to deal with and overcome. I hope you enjoy this, because I certainly will!

Please keep in mind that fighting like this is usually done in waves, so there may be days/weeks where there is no fighting.

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[ToKola Bakari]

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Location: Southern Barrier Wall​

Time: 0832​

Threat Level: Moderate​

Supplies: Low​

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"By the Mountains of Sandala....Hold them back!" To'Kola's voice roared as if a god from the heavens had descended down upon mortals. He stood upon the wall's peak, looking down to the legion of men who intended to breach the Southern Wall. With his maul hefted over his shoulder, he gave the men a bloody smile, one that showed his confidence in the Confederacy's might. "Snipers, take up positions! Pick your targets well, we don't have the ammo to waste!" To'Kola yelled out with a vicious roar. A number of B1 Droid units lined the top of the wall, with their long rifles aimed down to the commandos below. A droid would fire and in most cases an enemy would fall. However, it was not certain. The rocky terrain below provided excellent cover from the wall's advantage in height.

A stray blaster bolt slammed into the droid beside To'Kola, causing him to stumble back from the wall. It would cause the War Marshal to scoff before turning back to the Tactical droid that stood at the ready to serve him. "T-752, activate the shield system." He ordered. The tactical droid paused, before speaking plainly. "War Marshal. The shield system draws from the barrier's automated defense network. If we activate it now, we will create a large drain from the central power system."

Everything must be rationed. He reminded himself of the words he had spoken a few days ago when the possibility of a siege revealed itself. Since the Southern Wall was not plugged into the capitol's grid, and instead ran on it's own sets of generators, it did not have an endless supply of power. At least not when one of the generators had been found by the enemy and destroyed. Now, the wall had a limited number of things it could do at once, and that included the droid's powering stations.

When To'Kola looked down he could see that too many of the enemies soldiers were getting close to the wall. If they managed to get under the turrets, then they could possibly tamper with the wall itself and that could not be allowed to happen. To'Kola slung his maul from his shoulder and made his way to the stairwell. "Prep the Droidekas, we're going down there to push them back." He ordered the droid.

"Yes, War Marshal." The droid responded before pulling the datapad from it's waist.

To'Kola descended down the steps, taking him into the main hold of the wall. Inside the fortress was everything needed for an army to hold the wall for a limited time. At one point there had been far more things, but now To'Kola was starting to notice the supplies were going down. "Anyone who wants glory, come with me." He told those who stayed within the barracks before making his way down to the bottom floor. He made his way to the wall's main entrance and ran a hand over the control panel. A small port opened up in the wall. To'Kola looked to the port before watching the main door open. As the light shattered the darkness and the commotions of battle could be heard outside, To'Kola yelled out. "With me!" He commanded, before rushing into the fray outside.

Spoiler

[member="Kiff Brayde"]
[member="Havoc (CT-375)"]
[member="Alden Akaran"]
@Amelia von Sorren
[member="Luna Terrik"]
[member="Anton Delane"]
[member="General Kalypso"]
[member="Cypher Rage"]
[member="R4-AUD"]
[member="Marcus Kirst"]
[member="Kirk Tektus"]
[member="Orion Trex"]
[member="Shadar-Pox"]
[member="VildarnTentoria"]
[member="Caranekka Sigmaeus"]
[member="Zoe Rosella"]
[member="Kritz Vanderheim"]
[member="Havoc (CT-375)"]
[member="Keva"]
[member="Kurayami Bloodborn"]
[member="Samantha Jade"]
[member="Kritz Vanderheim"]
[member="Keva"]
[member="BX-72967"]
[member="BX-1335"]
[member="BX-25233"]
[member="UBD-028"]
[member="Merg"]
[member="WD-334"]
[member="Rog-r"]
[member="BNI-Bella and BNI-Leo"]
[member="Osintrium"]
[member="B1-667 Aquilus"]
[member="Destroyer 2873"]
[member="Marse Pana"]


[member="Luna Terrik"]
[member="Allya Vi'Dreya"]
[member="Damsy Callat"]
[member="Tiria Reinhart"]
[member="Pei Ven"]
[member="Zavek Ambrose"]
[member="Ethan Winters"]
[member="Lis'Ra Fennick"]
[member="Lin Pal'Ud"]
[member="DV8-420"]
[member="Thedra'Vazuum"]
[member="Rato Hus"]
[member="T-2133"]
[member="Subject 73 Red"]

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[Luna Terrik]

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Location: The Wall – Barracks
Day: 1
Time: 0832 Hours
Equipment: Personal Dauntless Armor, SC4 Blaster, Tactical Recon Handguns, XZ-77 “Buster” Comms Device
Tags: [member="Subject 73 Red"] | [member="Maeve Archeron"] | [member="Damsy Callat"] | [member="Lik Teh'Bones"] | [member="Tiria Reinhart"]

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“These are the moments you signed up for, my brothers and sisters.”

The sounds of the explosions just outside of the stone walls could be heard over the sounds of war in the halls. Twilek’s and confederate personal alike were rushing around, attempting to get weapons, equipment, and supplies ready for the siege of the wall. Even if the flurry of activity seemed like it was absolutely chaos, there was a sense of coordination between it. Officers barked orders, droids and organics tried their best to follow them, and everyone got ready for what was going to be a very long day.

In the middle of the barracks, where the activity rush seemed to be the calmest, sat around fifty men and woman. Forty-eight, to be exact. Six squads of the confederacy’s most elite fighting force, the dauntless commandos. They had been brought to the surface of the planet, along with two full companies of troopers. A total fighting force just under the four hundred mark. Certainly decent. But with the size and skill of the force just outside the walls, it might not be enough. Though, you wouldn’t find any of the Dauntless speaking those words.

Situated near the center of the commandos sat their general, the redheaded woman with the nickname of the fallen angel. She sat on a durosteel case containing kriff knows what, a holographic diagram of the battlefield outside. Her eyes looked to each of the commandos before gesturing back to the hologram. “So here’s what we got. You already know this, but I want this information fresh in your mind.” The general took one, deep breath, allowed any residual conversations or words to finish, then began to explain the situation the commandos had been forced into.

The map was seemingly separated into three main areas. An outer main trench line, and inner main trench line, and the wall itself. Luna motioned to the outer trench line then began. “Alright. That is the first line of defense. The front line trench is around 400 meters from the wall. In front of that..” She motioned to the to the mess of defensive emplacements in front of the trench, which extended for another 50 meters or so outward from the wall. “..are mines, barbed wire, and other nasty surprises for our unwelcome guests.” A gloved finger then began to outline the twisting lines of trenches that connected the first line with the back one. In those smaller, connecting lines, small squares of earth that had been dug out could be seen, as well as some covered areas. “these are our support trenches. We’ve got platforms for mortars, covered and secured areas for supplies, and some dug out comm centers. These trenches can be defended almost as well as the front line.”

Finally, she nodded to the closest line to the wall. “that..is our last stand. The reserve trench. Hopefully we won’t need it. If we do, we’re close enough to the wall that the wall’s shield can actually cover the trench.” With a grimace, the general thought silence to herself, “if we still have power at that point…,” as those last words slipped past her lips. She shook her head, looking up to the commandos, whom were expectant of their orders. Slowly, she nodded, then stood from the crate as she turned the holoprojector off and placed it back on her belt.

The redhead then took her helmet from its laid down position on the floor, placing it onto her head. “Alright, here’s the game plan. Alpha, Omega, and Theta squads will head to the front lines. Gamma, Delta, and Sigma squads will move to the auxiliary trench. Squad leaders, I will be communication with you on when, and who, will be switched in and out. I’ll be doing my best to make sure we’re all getting sleep and supplied.” These were the last words from her mouth as the warmaster made his way into the hall, calling out to all those that were in it. Her drew Luna’s attention for a minute before turning back to the commandos. “Get your gear. It’s time to go.”

Luna didn’t wait to see if they started to pack up, knowing that they would, starting toward the war master to update him on the situation. She gave a little salute, shouldering her weapon as she fell into step beside the huge man. “Orders given to my squads. Master Sergeant Ulinesque is already at the front trench with a hundred or so men, and Master Sergeant Tvenes is leading the sniper effort on top of the wall.” The rest of the commandos began to fall in behind the pair of leaders, the massive size of the wall beginning to come into view. The time was coming to finally meet the enemy. Soon, there would be absolutely no going back.

 

[Subject 73 Red]

Location: The Wall, Barracks
Day 1
0832
[member="Luna Terrik"] [member="Maeve Archeron"] [member="Damsy Callat"] [member="Lik Teh'Bones"] [member="Tiria Reinhart"]

Red sat on a crate, probably filled with dangerous explosives. He didn't really care. It was unlikely the crate would blow.

Red sat there, silently and at attention in the barracks. Most of the others were talking to each other, but not Red. Red had isolated himself from the other commandos. In Red's opinion, some of them were too... squishy. Besides, most of them were loud, annoying, and distracting. Red mostly didn't mind normal people, but when working and doing what he does best, he prefers to have little distractions. Besides, creating emotional attachments could have negative consequences on the battlefield.

Red listened to [member="Luna Terrik"] . Red nodded. He memorized the map. Barbed wire? That was an old piece of tech. What were they in, the stone age? Couldn't they at least give some modern equipment to help them? Nope, they were given cost-efficient and very outdated equipment.

Great, just great.

Red nodded to the Commander's orders. Well, this was perfect. Red either didn't know what squad he was in, or he wasn't in one yet. So, this could be interested. Red would have to ask the commander.

Red picked his pistol up from off the ground and holstered it. Right now, Red was heavily armed. In fact, he looked like he could fight off an entire army by himself, and he probably could, with both the amount of weapons and his skill in fighting.

He stood up and followed after the commander. "Um, commander? Do you know what squad I'm in? I don't believe that I've been assigned to one yet." Red asked her.

 

[Damsy Callat]

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Form: Humanoid Location: Outer Trench (inbound)​

Equipment: Hydroarmor / dartgun / blaster pistol / trident electrostaff /​

ID10 seeker droid and docking port​

Tags: [member="Subject 73 Red"], [member="Luna Terrik"]​

Day: 01 Post: 01​

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Ad Meliora.

Towards better for Ryloth now in their time of need. They didn't deserve the boils that were the Hellfire marines upon the surface on their picturesque world.

Damsy kept her sigh to herself as she listened to Luna from somewhere in the situational war room. The desire was not out of frustration or the feeling of impending doom, but driven by anxious trigger finger and sword arm alike. It might have been easily construed at the former by the shiniest of commandos, though, so Damsy quietly tossed her new, silver sunbonnet from from hand to hand between her spread legs. She leaned over them too, idly chewing a seed of some sort as if the first fidget was not enough.

First, she would tuck the seed into her cheek, suck the salt off the exposed side, and turn it over with her tongue to get at the others. Only when the thing was finally completely bland did the Sithspawn crack it between her slightly-abnormally-pointed teeth and chew. Altogether the process was a long one, but it was rather efficient too. It had turned out consuming salt had the effect of a stockpile in her mouth, making her allergy to freshwater more manageable as the problematic liquid was inerted as soon as she drank it.

“Get your gear. It’s time to go.”

Before standing to join almost every other Brother and Sister, Damsy looked into her helmet. The dark insulation layer on one side was additionally wallpapered with a holopicture printed in color on flimiplast. A'Runda and Damsy on Naboo. Their last date. They were sat on that park bench by the river, her face nuzzled into his neck. There, on that jewel of a world, the veiled Knight Obsidian and the wobbly Commando had parted ways for the foreseeable future, uncertain just what it would hold for them, just as Damsy felt about hers now.

But there was always uncertainty. There would always be uncertainty, Dauntless or no. For example, death, injury, failure; but also life, rejuvenation, success. What awaited Damsy and her Family In Arms was neither promised nor in question. The possibilities were all known by seasoned veterans, whom outlined them for the whelps, which were wordlessly accepted upon admission and retention into the 117th. Of the negative ones, they all stayed scared - to say they didn't would be the gravest of lies - but it was just as well because the fear pushed them together. And teamwork, why that made the positive outcomes, both personal and overall, all the easier for the units to obtain.

Together they rose above.

Ad Meliora.

Without another moment's hesitation, Damsy replaced her sunbonnet. "C'mon." The first word through her vocabulator. "Omegas, on me." And for the first time since her personal failure at Mustafar, she marched into no mans' land.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

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Location: Assembly Hall, Castle Vureshakkairn
Day: 1 | Time: 0832 Hours
Tag: Mandragora | Open

Vytal strode around the image projected in the center of the open chamber where Witches and Warlocks could gather and line the spiraling stone staircase along the wall. A detailed report of an enemy encroachment upon Ryloth had been delivered at length. The description of breaching the naval frontier and striking upon the planet. How they rapidly expanded from their beach head. Dogged fighting that seemed to drive back the women and men stationed on the planet itself. How now, as the enemy circled above eager to feast on dead carcasses of their victims, this military force advanced on the Capital of Ryloth.

Details of the city's defenses, population, and ability to weather a siege had been announced for all to hear. Every pertinent detail at their disposal, collected from official channels (those that worked) and Mandragora scouts, laid at the feet and in the minds of those present. There was nothing too confidential to hold their tongue here. Such dire circumstances were an endless triage focused on stemming the bleeding rather than vetting every word for something too sensitive to be made known aloud. It was the dire nature of the plight that Vytal hoped would hold the residents' rapt attention as not all that came to be with them desired battle given a choice.

"Ariel," the Nightsister's voice rang out after the lengthy report finished, and she had made a revolution about the battlefield on display. "Prepare for Calamity. Have the marked individuals carry it out, ready to implement at a moment's notice." Calamity was a code word some might take to mean a massive spell that would destroy all life or wreck the world to spite an enemy. However, its true purpose was to prepare to relocate the Vault and everything within it to a safe location. That was no small undertaking; nor was it without risk. Nevertheless, if it came to it, the Confederacy -- perhaps the Galaxy -- could not afford any hostile faction from gaining control over the wealth of knowledge and power at the Mandragora's disposal.

Vytal's head turned toward her Sister [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] then. "Pom, we will need every restoration potion you can make. Whatever concoction you can make to reign fire and damnation on the enemy will also be most welcome." Far from a small order, there was no doubt the other Nightsister in her creativity and resourcefulness could assemble a host to aid or ruin. There were many Twi'lek and many other species fighting on the field in dire need of support -- both martial and healing. However, "We will not wage a defensive war. The adversary does not come to our world and repeat its sins without answer." Healing was well and good, but those fighting would welcome an offensive blow to the enemy just as well.

"Jorah," the young Nightbrother's name [member="Jorah zos Darnus"] was called out of those assembled, "find every youth of sound body, mind, and spirit. See they are armed and prepared to defend the Mandragora." She had no plans of throwing them upon the waves of the enemy, but the Castle and the Vault needed protection. If many adults were tasked with preparations it might weaken scouts and guardians at their own perimeter. There was a place for the youth to serve this day without sacrificing the young to spare those older.

She called out others of the Mandragora well suited to their area of expertise to craft both defenses for the Mandragora themselves, and offenses to lay waste to their foe and that of the Confederacy. Even clandestine operatives were set free to infiltrate and continue gathering information about the enemy's movements, resources, supply lines, and reinforcements. The CDF might have the brunt of the duty for Ryloth, but the Witches and Warlocks would not stand idle while it was pillaged. Nor would its spirits.

"We will defend the Capital. We will defend the people of Ryloth. We will defend our home. Let any that stand against us know the Wrath of Ages that they should seek to destroy and claim what it is not their own. Let the galaxy know the Mandragora are not quaint soothsayers that pine over tea leaves, but knowledgeable and strong women and men that will fight for what they believe in. That the spirits are with us and they are not amused by this display of savagery. When we are through this world will be ours and it will heal. This, we decree in one voice this day."

Three cracks of the conjuring stave signaled the dismissal of those present. There was much work to be done, and sadly very little time remaining.

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

Day 1 | 0832 hours​

Location: Vureshakkairn Castle​

Equipment: Obsidian Robes | Light-Shield Bracelet | Cuf'boka​

Tags: [member="Vytal Noctura"] | Mandragora | Open​

[ where do we go when all falls down ]​

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The young Dathomiri woke with a start.

Gasping, a sense of discombobulation followed the return to wakefulness. The found himself half out of bed, clad in a pair of boxer shorts with his legs propped up on the bed while his head rested on the floor, beside a pizza box containing a handful of pizza bones. Struggling for a moment, the horned youth situated himself.

Hopping precariously on one foot, the youth managed upright while fighting to free an ankle from the sheets. Successful, the boy put his best foot forward... only to slip on the pizza box and fall flat on his face.

Why was his alarm still going off?

A pair of wee dragons slept in a pile atop the boy's pillow, having claimed it for themselves sometime during the night. The creatures were disturbed, as one of the boy's hands flopped about in absent fumbling whilst feeling for where his alarm was. As his hand finally brushed against the offending object, the boy slapped it forcefully several times. Then, grabbed it, and gazed at it oddly from behind a pair of amber eyes that seemed as though they were still half-dreaming.

Why wouldn't his alarm turn off?

...wait, that wasn't his alarm. That was the castle security systems.

Another gasp, as the boy's head snapped back as he was shocked into full consciousness. Bolting for the door, the youth bounded out into the hallway in a sprint toward the assembly hall.

...then came dashing back a second later, realizing that he was in his boxers. He grabbed a pair of trousers, tugging them on in an awkward dance as he rummaged through his room for clothing suitable. A hand darted inside of the pizza box, returning triumphant with a slice of pizza that from the night before. Holding that in his teeth, he snatched up a tunic and belt, before grabbing his boots and then bolting out of the door again.

Between sprints, he donned another item of clothing. He had both boots on with belt in hand as he came barreling inside of the assembly hall. Disposing of the remainder of the pizza breakfast, the boy started tying the belt around his waist. He had stumbled into a briefing that had already been taking place. Vytal was issuing commands, as Jorah glanced about to try and orient himself to whatever was happening.

The castle didn't appear to be under attack, but something was clearly happening.

"Jorah."

Chit. Wincing at the thought that he'd been caught being clueless... er... that is, even more clueless-er than was usual, for him anyway, the boy sheepishly recoiled back at mention of his name. "Vi?" he answered.

His voice cracked, causing it to slip up an octave as a squeak was issued forth.

Clearing his throat, the boy tried to compose himself and try that again. "Vi, Aeat Noctura," the boy supplied, in his very best impression of a baritone. Which might have been a tenor on its best day.

"Find every youth of sound body, mind, and spirit. See they are armed and prepared to defend the Mandragora."

Did he know what was happening? No. But understanding was not required. Merely obedience.

With a bow toward the Nightsister, the boy genuflected as he answered, "By your command."

 

[Kirk Tektus]

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Day: 1 | Time: 0832 hours​

Location: Bridge of The Gauntlet​

Equipment: Confederate Dress Uniform Type-II | KC-77N Hybrid Pistol​

Tags: Open​

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How long had it been since Kirk had been aboard the Gauntlet, commanding his ship into battle. He was only recently assigned to the 72nd making him one of the recent additions to the fleet. Hopefully that won't cause problems for him. He sat upon his command chair observing the space before him as the droids on the bridge worked away at their terminals. Kirk was anxious that Ryloth was being threatened. It was close to Geonosis, threatening the center of the Confederacy war machine. If someone could attack them so close to home, just how exposed were they? Especially a fleet this size, where did they come from and how did they get the intelligence necessary to strike them where it hurt? ​

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At the war council, each ship captain went over their positions and Kirk was made part of the vanguard to eat turbolaser fire. Munificents were tough so it only made sense that they were brought to the front. But his position was pretty much compromised since they were blockaded. The enemy haven't fired a single shot at them for a while now, things were starting to get anxious for Kirk. There wasn't much he could do at least for now so he started sink into his chair almost about to die of boredom. Kirk's tactical droid walked up to his chair to give him a status on the ships resources. "Major, the life support systems are fully optimal. Oxygen levels are high, communications are jammed, but remaining systems are operational."​

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​That was most likely to change in a day or two. "Thanks three seven. Just watch our systems and let me know if something changes."​

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"Roger roger."​

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A long sigh escaped Kirk's mouth, waiting for the enemy to make a move.​

 

[Tiria Reinhart]

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Location: The Wall – Barracks
Day: 1 | Time: 0832 Hours
Tags: [member="Subject 73 Red"] | [member="Maeve Archeron"] | [member="Damsy Callat"] | [member="Lik Teh'Bones"] | Luna Terrik

As Luna drew everyone's attention to the hologram, Tiria's attention wandered. Rather, it was divided, and the focus of her mind's eye shifted to someone that stood upon that very wall now. It was preferable to align what was described to the reality of the situation rather than waiting while orders were flung around, or non-optimal viewing positions taken.

It was a strange circumstance being on the other end of an assault in this manner. It wasn't the first time, but it might be one of the most authentic. A defensive force confronted by a swarming enemy that would soon be set upon them. The role of attacker had once been her own long, long ago. In another vessel, of course. The First One. Since connecting with this 'Human' mind, however, things had changed. Not enough things, however; the death of the one responsible for nearly wiping out the First One's kind remain unfulfilled. Despite that, they'd learned much of the new world together. Some days it seemed difficult to tell them apart.

Once the briefing was concluded, Tiria stood with the rest as commanded to follow the General out.

The enemy would be upon them soon. There was a shadow of concern from what her eyes from atop the wall bore witness. It was possible they could turn the tide quickly, but only if the enemy was ill-prepared for battle. Otherwise the number of resources and quality of the fighting force was subpar for a prolonged engagement without reinforcements or a secured supply line. If it were an option to have the entire host Join then their efficiency would be such even such a small number should suffice. Sadly, these creatures preferred their individuality.

A solid thunk followed the back of Tiria's hand striking another Commando's chest piece. "Look alive. We'll have more fun here than a Sith Lord before an altar." With a smirk, Reinhart continued on their way to the front line.

 

[Sasha Fox]

Day: 1 Time: 0832 hours​

Location: Flight control tower​

Tags: Open​

[SIZE=9pt]Sasha stood in the control tower over looking the main hangar bay of the carrier she was stationed on, a Providence II carrier. Though this ship was a bit smaller than the ship she was normally stationed on Sasha took no issue with this but merely viewed it as a training exercise. Having arrived on board only a few days before supplies began to dwindle Sasha had walked into a logistical nightmare, ship parts thrown randomly about the service bays instead of in their proper places in the supply bays. The starfighters were in total disrepair upon her arrival with most of her starfighter engineers. It was only a few hours before that they had finally gotten the parts returned to their proper places and began to repair the star fighters. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Sasha’s engineers were quite capable of handling most issues that would be presented to them however as she looked over the hangars the ear piece she wore began to hum before a low male voice came through “Boss I have something I need you to look at hangar bay 2.” As soon as the voice finished the short woman sprang to her feet “Roger on my way” having said this the woman would make her way to the door of the command tower. Opening it with one push. As Sasha made her way toward the lift to make it to the hangar she thought of all the possible situations she could be walking into.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Upon the lift touching down on the hangar floor the young air boss stepped out heading toward the service bay where her second in command stood wearing their standard bright yellow top, this was good for high visibility especially on the hangar floor where star fighters move at speeds upwards of 500 Miles per hour. As she reached the service bay she saw the problem immediately the starfighter had taken a hit directly to its fusion core. The Air boss quickly diagnosed the problem that had been overlooked for it didn’t often happen because of the shield generator being located just to the aft of the chamber however once the problem was diagnosed Sasha quickly tore the engine apart to get to the part that needed replacing. Finding the part took a few moments but once the part was found Sasha’s hands flew across the pieces and within 10 minutes she had the star fighter ready to fly.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]As soon as this repair was done Sasha made her way back to the control tower where she would take the microphone and announce over the intercom “Flight crew clear the hangar floor we have black squadron incoming.” As the 12 fighters landed they were guided into their service bays by the flight crew. “Gold squadron you’re up prep for launch. Take off in 5”[/SIZE]

 

[Luna Terrik]

Location: The Wall – Trench Lines
Day: 2
Time: 0837 Hours
Equipment: Personal Dauntless Armor, SC4 Blaster, Tactical Recon Handguns, XZ-77 “Buster” Comms Device
Tags: [member="Subject 73 Red"] | [member="Maeve Archeron"] | [member="Damsy Callat"] | [member="Lik Teh'Bones"] | [member="Tiria Reinhart"]

​

The sounds of armor clacking together could be heard over the sounds of the preparations of war when the Dauntless fell in behind their general, who walked side by side with the warmaster. Sliding the rifle off of her shoulder, Luna gave it a final checkover, and was still in the process of doing so when one of the newer recruits walked up to her, asking what squad he had been assigned to. She paused for a moment, nodding toward a lean looking commando near the back of the group. “You’ve been assigned to sergeant [member="Maeve Archeron"]’s squad, alpha squad. You’ll be heading to the front lines with the first group.” She gave him a little nod before returning to the front of the group, falling in step once again with the warmaster once again.

It took a few more minutes until the group of commandos and commanding officers were assembled in front of the main doors, ready to burst out into the battle. Squad leaders were doing final checks on armor, weapons, and supplies, which Luna was taking part in. As she went down the line of Omegas, she eventually come to stand in front of Damsy, giving her a little nod before patting her chest plate. “Cin vhetin,” were the only two words spoken to the taller commando, in mando’a, before the general continued down the line of supply checking. Corporal Reinhart was given a little nod as well, Luna welcoming the woman into her squad for the first mission in a while.

Soon, everything was prepared. All the squads were as ready to go as they would ever be. Luna returned to her spot at the head of the group, quickly sending a comm her two master sergeants. “We’re about to join the front line. Reinforcements coming, Tien.” After sending the comm, the general turned to the man at the door controls, grinning at him underneath her helmet. With that said, her voice raised to cut through the noise within the wall, so that all the commandos around her could hear the battle cry of the Dauntless. “release us! It’s time we joined the fray.” He gave the general a nod, pressing a few buttons on the console, which prompted the massive doors to slowly open. Luna took this opportunity to turn to the commandos, raise her weapon high in the air and yell out, “yibambe amandala!” Then turned to sprint out of the doors and into the trenches.

The first thing that hit Luna as soon as she stepped into the trench was the noise. Orders and coordinates being yelled out from the mortar pits, comm centers, and strategic emplacements along with the practically never ending sounds of blaster fire. She didn’t stop at the back line of trenches whatsoever, double timing it to through the middle trench that lead all the way to the very front lines. It took about half a minute of full on sprinting, covering her head every so often from blaster bolts biting into the dirty around her or a mortar shell from the attackers landing close to outer edges of the trench sending a spray of dirt over her head.

When they finally made it to the front line, what they found certainly wasn’t a pretty site. The troopers that had been sent to the front line had been cut through, leaving bodies strewn on the ground of the trenches, either with medics attempting to tend them or left there until they could be attended to. The medics already looked like they were overwhelmed with the injuries and casualties. Luna pointed to either side of the trench, waving the commandos forward as she called out the command to them. “Reinforce the line! Spread out and start laying down fire!” When waving down the right side of the trench, the massive body of her master sergeant firing at the enemy caught her eye, prompting her to quickly make her way to him to get the rundown on the situation.

He didn’t even notice the general until she made it to him, tapping him on the shoulder and motioning for him to take cover. The master sergeant did so, and she spoke over the sounds of chaos around her. “Give me a sitrep, how many injured?” A little shrug was given as an answer, before he responded in the same tone of voice. “Last report I got from the medic captain was six causalities, thirteen injuries. But that was a while ago, and I haven’t seen the solider since.” Luna gave a little nod, peaking over the edge of the trench to stare down the enemy as her next question came to mind. “Alright, what about the enemy, what are we looking at?” This time it took a few more seconds for the sergeant to answer, with him taking time to peak over the edge of the trench with the general. His voice, while still loud enough to be heard, had a grim tone to it as well. “We haven’t been able to get an idea on how big the force is, general. They’re coming at us in waves with heavy blasters and mobile shields. We’ve beat back two waves already, and I would guess that they’re about to be gearing up for a big one.”

Luna took the information given by her trusted comrad with a nod, patting him on the shoulder. She then pointed down the line, giving a little nod in that direction. “Find that medic captain, tell him to start get the wounded back to the wall. We’ll hold off here. Head out.” He nodded, reached up to unpack his tri-pod from the top of the trench wall, then head down the line to fulfill the order. Luna quickly took his place, aiming her rifle downrange. If he was right, and the next big wave would be coming soon, she knew that the troopers and commandos standing next to her would hold strong.

 

[ToKola Bakari]

​

[member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="Tiria Reinhart"] | [member="Jorah zos Darnus"] | [member="Vytal Noctura"] | [member="Damsy Callat"] | [member="Subject 73 Red"]​

​

"For The Confederacy!" To'Kola's thunderous war cry erupted out, with a hellish wrath. The War Marshal and a team of his chosen escorts, BX Commando droids. The metallic soldiers charged alongside him, their crimson eyes cold and all-telling as they raised their blasters. They fired into the enemy lines, their shots true as they slammed into the Hellfire Commandos. The blaster fire, however, was little more than a distraction to aid To'Kola in his own action. From the moment he'd charged from the wall, he'd been gathering the Force to the top of his maul. It was heavy with the weight of the Force, yet as he brought it up he could not help but smile.

The maul slammed into the breastplate of the lead Commando. It turned metal and bone into dust as everything in it's path was laid to waist. Still, that was not the whole of the attack. In one mighty pulse, the Force exploded out. The kinetic energy slammed into the Commando's main battle line and in seconds they were broken.

"Now!" To'Kola yelled back to his forces. A number of Droideka units deployed, their circular bodies spinning over the rough terrain as they rushed to the War Marshal's side. Four of the droids deployed beside To'Kola, their dual blasters slamming into the opened ranks of the Commandos. For a moment it seemed as if they had pushed the invaders to the backfoot. To'Kola glanced up, noticing there were a number of the Commandos attempting to flank them in the caverns that ran close to the great wall's height. With that superiority in height....

To'Kola called back to [member="Luna Terrik"], yelling loudly. "General, focus fire on the enemies above us, we cannot allow them to gain the advantage of terrain. My droids will cover you!" He yelled out to the woman. Just then, the Commando droids took up defensive positions just before the General's main defense line. Between them and the Droidekas, General Terrik would have a small window to act.

 

[Subject 73 Red]

[member="Luna Terrik"] [member="Maeve Archeron"] [member="Damsy Callat"] [member="Lik Teh'Bones"] [member="Tiria Reinhart"]

Red nodded to [member="Luna Terrik"] . "Yes ma'am." Red responded and ran over to the squad he was assigned to.

He moved to the back of the group and saluted to [member="Maeve Archeron"] . "Agent Red, reporting for duty! General Terrik has assigned me to your squad." Red said, then he moved into the squad.

Then, the front started rushing outside. Soon, it was Red's turn. He rushed after them.

Red ran through the battlefield, blaster fire and explosions could be heard in all directions. Red kept on moving. Apparently, he was to move to the front lines. Good, Red liked it right there. Red moved through another trench and passed a couple of dead organics and droids. The cause of death was obvious, mortar strike. Red continued to move through the trenches. Soon, they reached the front lines. Red moved up to a firing position in the trench. He started laying down suppressing fire with his blaster rifle, giving the other commandos time to set up.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

​

Location: Castle Vureshakkairn
Day: 1 | Time: 0837 Hours
Tag: [member="Jorah zos Darnus"] | Mandragora | Open

After a few follow-up conversations as the host scattered to prepare, Vytal made her way toward the young man that had come to them. Vytal adopted her native tongue in speaking with Jorah, as it was still his dominant tongue. "We have not had much time to talk since you came to us, Jorah. Now I have set much on your shoulders." There was no tear-filled gaze or weepy eyes for what she had done; it had been necessary. "Do you have everything you will require for this task, or questions you need answered? Whatever is at our command is available for the task."

However direct or commanding Vytal came off, she held concern for all under her charge. That Jorah was a man did not mean he was any less of a person. There was still some preference over magik being the purview of women, but every day it seemed the Nightsister woke to reminding herself that was no the way of offworlders. Long would it be before ever the thought of changing Dathomir to mirror the 'equality' of Galactic Civilizations, however. Beyond her death bed, Vytal wagered. The Nightbrother's well-being was of concern; as was how he took to the burden thrust upon him now.

Glorious? By all the spirits they should hope not. If the enemy made it to the walls of the Mandragora their reach will have grown long indeed. Come so far the strength of the Confederacy would be in question as would its survival given the proximity of its heart. Calamity would have the bulk of their power or store of artifacts relocated elsewhere far from there... likely never to return. Many will have died if the young sisters and brothers were called upon as their last line of defense; many more might before they ceased to be of Ryloth.

Perhaps Jorah would ask to go to the front lines with those that carried supplies to heal, and those to destroy. It would not be Vytal's first inclination, however. His style was traditional -- which she did not disparage -- but the enemy was less honorable. Something she herself contended with coming to the stars. Even to this day she preferred the personal confrontation to long-ranged pistols and rifles. Or bombs. How she despised such impersonal, faceless means of slaughter. What skill was there in this? Nevertheless, would she deny him the honor of bearing witness to the battlefield?

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

Day 1 | 0837 hours​

Location: Vureshakkairn Castle​

Equipment: Obsidian Robes | Light-Shield Bracelet | Cuf'boka​

Tags: [member="Vytal Noctura"] | Mandragora | Open​

[ yuve yuve yu ]​

​

The horned youth turned his head up in surprise at the familiar voice.

Surely, the Mistress had more important details at present than to oversee something as trivial as arming the youth. He understood her meaning quite well. The able of body were obviously going to be headed into battle. But the castle would still require defending. The initiates formed a ready reserve. A youth brigade that could step into the sentinel and sentry duties of the experienced warriors, freeing them to go to the battle.

...of course, he was a maleling. Perhaps she questioned his ability to perform this task? While a trivial detail, it was important that the castle be defended. She no doubt questioned whether a male was the best choice for this assignment. The thought quickened the boy's resolve, prompting him to stand a little straighter and square his shoulders.

He knew of his place in Dathomiri society. That he would have to work twice as hard to earn half the praise of his Nightsister counterparts was nothing new to him. Yet, though his Sisters may not have faith in him, he would pledge himself to them all the same. Because he was a Nightbrother. Because he was Jorah zos Darnus.

Jorah, son of Darnus.

A matronym. He bore the name of his Nightsister mother. His actions reflected directly upon her. Upon the Mistwalker Clan. His honor, like his life, was not his own.

It never had been.

If he had to work harder to prove himself worthy, then he would do so. "No questions, my Lady," the youth stated, with a slight bow toward her. Did he understand the situation that had led to their being under attack? That was a different question. But her command? That he understood well. "Everyone able to wield sword or spear shall be prepared to take them up, my Lady."

Had she asked him to head into battle, he would have done so without hesitation.

He was of Doashim. Such was the way of those of his pact.

She knew that. That she had not offered that option to him was not something that he would question. It was not his place. He would do as she commanded.

And if those who attacked Ryloth found themselves upon the castle gates, Jorah would be prepared to give himself over to Doashim. To do what must be done. To protect the Nightmother. To ensure the survival of the Mandragora.

"If I may ask, will you be joining the fighting, my Lady?" the youth asked. For a Nightbrother, it was a brazen question. He had not been given grant to question her, but he had been asked if he had questions. While he did not doubt her prowess, it would be rather anxious if he were waiting at the castle while she raced off into the thick of battle.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

​

Location: Castle Vureshakkairn
Day: 1 | Time: 0839 Hours
Tag: [member="Jorah zos Darnus"] | Mandragora | Open

A short nod was given accepting the Nightbrother was prepared to see the task through. She wouldn't belittle him by taking his hand and apologizing for what was plainly necessary; no Dathomiri woman apologized when they ask others to prepare for battle. The fight to survive was every-day back home. Little was different with the splinter cultures from their dark home; but then few of those clans found themselves surrounded by an abundance.

Jorah's question held her attention on the young man. "Yes." A smile pulled at her lips while light shone along the edge of her eyes. "Once supplies are gathered for transport, I will see the enemy with my own eyes." Would she leap into the fray of battered and broken bodies in search of a life to end by her own, two hands? Sadly, unlikely. The huntress would need to make certain concessions given her position among the Mandragora. Unless the spirits willed it, of course -- with their full backing there was little in existence she would fear. Yet, she was no prisoner in her own castle. She was not a porcelain doll teetering on the edge. "The sooner these creatures are away, the better for Ryloth."

A heartbeat passed in silence before she spoke again. "I could use an able body to accompany me. I will be in the Interior Garden where the apothecary supplies are gathered; join me once our defenses here are set in motion." The smile softened to a hunger not for the blood of those present, but the battle ahead; and the acknowledgement of the Nightbrother that might accompany her into the fray. Perhaps given the strength in Jorah's eye she shouldn't be too hasty to leave him behind. Battle on the scale of Offworlders was something to be seen -- Vytal only hoped it would not be too overwhelming.

 

[Damsy Callat]

Form: Humanoid Location: Outer Trench
Equipment: Hydroarmor / dartgun / blaster pistol + rifle / trident electrostaff /
ID10 seeker droid and docking port
Tags: [member="Subject 73 Red"], [member="Luna Terrik"], [member="Tiria Reinhart"]
Day: 01 Post: 02

Damsy nodded back at Luna. Her Mando'a had been getting better ever since trying to pick up the pieces of her relationship with her father, so she understood the general perfectly. Though she was smiling, she scoffed playfully, "Mar'e," also in Mando'a. It meant 'finally'.

The familiar war cry rose up from Luna after the redhead had moved to the door operator. Release us. As the doors slid opened, Damsy took the trident headed handle off her belt and gave a forceful shake. With a satisfying shrrrrk, one that almost cut through the Dauntless joining in the call - "Release us!" "Join the fray!" "Yibambe!" - it extended to full-length, and she beat the floor with the blunt end. And soon enough, they had. They were.

"Down, down! Stay low!" Damsy jogged towards her station somewhere in the outer trench. She had rather quickly lost sight of the other Omegas, unintentionally. Her position in the line-up behind the wall had been just so to delay her in a wave of chaos en route to her station. A volley of focused fire had pinned her down somewhere in the middle of the front line maze with a GI squadron. When she could finally see out of her visor, she stood. She began to both move and shout again. "Fire--" She didn't make it a meter, however, before a trooper popped up from seemingly nowhere in the sea of settling smoke and reached out for the Sithspawn's shiny shoulder plate. "Eyes?" She had barely registered the request for an assist before she nodded curtly. The man jumped back into the stormy waters of particulated gas. Damsy gazed down and noticed a mortar centered in foxhole, flanked by four troopers, one sprawled out dead. She understood in a split second that they lost their artillery observer.

Damsy inched to the metal-reinforced side of the trench closet to her. Off of her belt, she took a small energy shield and, popping up her head, threw it out a few centimeters. From here, she spotted a sizable nearby target. A button on the side of her helmet activated a program to calculate the call-out. "Right advancement, plus fifteen! Charge three! Range six hundred! Let's go!" She dove to the side just as the charge unloaded into the air.

Another voice came from behind her, "Appreciated!" A new man was behind her now, with a pair of binos. The replacement. "Got it from here, sir." With a curt nod, Damsy moved on from the mortar pit. She immediately couched down to avoid the blast bolts whizzing over the top of the trench. "Push! Get to the front!" Holding back her insulation cape with one hand, Damsy slid into cover. "Fire superiority, Dauntless! Pick. Your. Targets. Watch for silhouettes on the horizon!"

 

[Tiria Reinhart]

​

Location: The Wall – Trenches
Day: 1 | Time: 0837 Hours
Tags: [member="Subject 73 Red"] | [member="Maeve Archeron"] | [member="Damsy Callat"] | [member="Lik Teh'Bones"] | [member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="ToKola Bakari"]

Tiria's green eyes lifted as she acknowledged the General's nod. There was a strength to her gaze despite how she did not shift her weight from one foot to the other, chew the inside of her lip, or fidget with her blaster. Anxiousness? Excitement? Almost every other person in attendance had only lived their singular life of years twenty and more. The humble Corporal of the Dauntless Commandos physically was of similar age, but had connected with many minds both novice and well-exposed alike. The One at their center -- what might be called the 'Heart' of their hivemind -- had a swell of experience and the sorrow with it. There was fear. There was uncertainty, but it would not trouble her now. Cast the dice had been; time to see what pazaak card they drew.

Once the doors parted to admit the soldiers onto the field, Tiria surged forth with the rest. Overwatch could only supply general intelligence in the concentration of fire; it would be useless in determining whether a particular bolt was headed for her. Like the rest, this was a mad dash with moments of strategy or tactics to avoid being cut down before drawing near the front lines.

Fortunately, the enemy had not take to an endless bombardment of the position on their approach. Obviously the worn signs of sustained battle had torn into Ryloth and splattered the hues of life and death on its face; but there was a lull between massacres, and the Commandos would use to to surge forward. The enemy would have time enough yet to bask in the pleasure of renewed opposition.

With narrowed eyes, Tiria heard the General's order to move out. Her dark eye caught on a fallen object nearby. With the leave granted, she moved over to the half-buried length of metal and swept the mortar-cast debris away. With a grunt, the Commando hefted the long barrel of the gun emplacement that had been knocked from its perch. A nearby dugout sat unoccupied with the bodies of fallen not far from it.

The loud clack of the heavy rifle snapping back into place was lost under the constant weapons fire and explosions that peppered the landscape.

A voice carried over the comms, along with a silent warning from Tiria's personal Overwatch. The Commando's lips drew up at one corner as her hands fell on the repeating blaster. "Laying down fire," she said in the same manner of voice one might comment on a pleasant, Spring day. The barrel of the gun emplacement swung around to greet the enemy that sought to flank them along higher ground.

 

[Maeve Archeron]

___________

FRONT LINES
DAY 1
0845
[member="Luna Terrik"] || [member="Damsy Callat"] || [member="Tiria Reinhart"] || [member="Lik Teh'Bones"]
___________

Tired...

Maeve was so tired. It seemed she had been fighting without end since she had transferred to Omega, months ago. Since her squad leader had left. Since she'd lost her roommate and... her sister.

That was a mistake. She couldn't spare the time to think. One, two, three shots rang out, and hopefully three enemies fell with it. Who were they even fighting? It seemed these days the Dauntless, the protectors and the supposedly elite task force, were just cleaning up whatever hot mess the Confederacy left behind in their seemingly endless conquest. And no one spared a thought for the hard working (and underpaid) soldiers who cleaned up after the dominion party.

She heard the voice of her current commander crackle through her comms, but she heard louder her old commander echoing through her head. Kelsie would never have stood for this. She'd tell her superiors to kiss her ass and do something totally stupid and Kelsie-like.

And Maeve supposed that's what Kelsie ended up doing. No one had branded her a deserter, of course... but there were those who harboured bitter thoughts.

I did it again. She was losing the thrill of fighting, the adrenaline no longer enough to keep her steps light and her mind focused. It was like she was addicted to it, and needed bigger and bigger doses to have even nearly the same effect. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood and trained her sights on the shadowed silhouettes on the horizon. Taking six shots but not seeing any shape in particular fall, she raised her comm to her mouth and spoke. "Maeve Archeron, Omega Squad. Do we have an idea of the speed of these creatures? Estimated time of arrival?" Anything?

She dropped her head down.

 

[Luna Terrik]

Location: The Wall – Trench Lines
Day: 1
Time: 0841 Hours
Equipment: Personal Dauntless Armor, SC4 Blaster, Tactical Recon Handguns, XZ-77 “Buster” Comms Device
Tags: [member="Subject 73 Red"] | [member="Maeve Archeron"] | [member="Damsy Callat"] | [member="Lik Teh'Bones"] | [member="Tiria Reinhart"]

​

It wasn’t long until the commando reinforcements had become relatively settled into their positions in the trenches. Then again, it wasn’t like there was much room to move around throughout the lines in the dirt. With the number of soldiers, medics, and sparse engineers, one was either shoulder to shoulder with another comrade or working their way around the back of them. For Luna’s sake, she was shouldered up next to a trooper whose armor was quite clean for having been in the trenches. A green one, she figured. This possibly might even be his, or her, first look at an actual battle. Whoever it was, their inexperience was going to be quickly rectified with how this battle was starting to progress in a direction that Luna didn’t want it going in.

The wave had started to come down upon them at this point. Hellfire marines from the front of the trenches, as well as marines storming across the cliffs surrounding either side of them. They were attacking from every possible angle they could. The forward attack was something Luna had confidence that they could stave off, but the cliff-based attacks would need more focus very soon, or the trenches were at risk of being caught in a crossfire of sorts. Knowing this, Luna ducked back in the trench, coming into one of the squads that had been brought back to the front lines.

“Omega squad, this is General Terrik. Focus your fire on the attacking marines on the top of the cliff. Stop them before they can get a foothold surrounding the front trench.” With gritted teeth, she added a quick message at the end of her first order as well. “And specialist Archeron, we are fighting some very nasty people. You have your orders. Follow them and keep this channel clear except for important updates.” With that, the general closed her comm link with the squad, confident that they could take care of the side attacks, since she was able to see from her position that it was much less reinforced than the forward attack.

That was a much different problem. If intel was to believed, these marines were highly trained, dangerous individuals that had plenty of supplies to make this fight as drawn out as they wanted. They apparently were supplied with armor as well, or at least long range guns. She just couldn’t tell if they had been brought out with this first wave yet, or if they would even be used. “Q’ara, what do we see?” comming into the snipers nest on top of the wall, she hoped that the master sergeant would have better intel than Luna could see from her position.

“Looks like this is an arrowhead attack, distracting us with a bunch of different fronts while they move their defensive emplacement’s up. They’re setting up riot shields behind the first line of marines.” A smart strategy, and one indicating these attackers had some pretty well thought out plans made for this attack. Still, Luna had been in her fair share of sieges, and there were certain counters to every type of attack. Staying low in the trench, she once again reached for the comm in her helmet, directly tapping into a pair of commando’s links. “Corporal Callet, Corporal Leinhart, got orders for you two. Callet, I need you to go around the four front line mortar pits, figure out who much ammo they still have and get to work restocking them. Employee some engineers if you have to. Have them fire on behind the line of attackers to try and slow down their defensive emplacement building.”

A couple of bolts bit into the dirt right above luna’s position, spraying dirt over the commander. She flinched momentarily, gathering her senses and thoughts before moving onto to Leinhart’s orders. “Corporal Leinhart, we need this attack in front of us broken up or slowed down while the mortar crews do their work. We need as many heavy blaster turrets as we can get. Get me a headcount of the one’s we still have operational then come report to me on the east side of the frontline trench.” Another few bolts ate into the dirt above her head, but a few this time found the green trooper’s chestplate, knocking him back and onto the floor of the trench. He certainly wasn’t dead, but he would be in a lot of pain later. That inexperience was beaten out of him quicker than she had expected, apparently.