Start of the Bloody Trail (PM for Invite)

[Kalous Anson]

Wooshes, bangs, screeches, and blaster fire were among the many sounds that rang through Kalous' senses as the ship began to take fire. There was no time to hesitate, and no room to make a mistake, yet Kalous was unable to shake the feeling that his questions had been far too spot on. Learning new things, accepting his feelings as pseudo-fact, and deciding that it was time to act, Kalous sprang into action as the ship began to writhe under the pressure of its own weight being thrown about under the planet's gravity.

The audible creaking didn't begin until their droid compatriots had been activated. There was something equally beautiful--as they were menacing--when their eyes lit up and they moved in unison. Part of it was the programmed discipline, part the technical design, but the best part was the ambiance that this scene was composed of. The innate pressure that had been lying on top of the shoulders of every person involved in this operation had suddenly come to a head--and now it was time to either sink or swim.

Swimming was easier for someone like Kalous--with a body and mind trained to break barriers and push limits. It wasn't until the ship had been rocked by another explosion--colliding with one of the prolonged towers of the Sahara Outpost--that Kalous decided to make his move. He didn't need to wait for an order--nor to survey the entire situation--to know that if he didn't act quickly he would end up as dead as the beings in the first transport ship probably were.

During the evasive maneuvers; Kalous had found himself in a multitude of positions--from rolling on the floor to bracing his head against the ceiling--around the transport. It was about this time when he had decided to invest in some magnetic-locking boots. For now, however, he had to do with what he had--and what he had was a little bit of crazy with a dash overconfidence. This combination had served him with promise more times than naught but there was always that chance he wouldn't live to see the next day. Not today.

Grabbing at anything he could to steady himself on his feet; Kalous sprang forward as the ship righted itself after its confrontation with the tower. His speed increased at the rate in which only one with an elite-level athletic body could. It was almost as if watching a green blur--a moderate exaggeration--with tendrils streaming at its back vaulting out of the opened hatch. There was little room for error in attempting his flashy entrance into the battle but it was also something that he doubted anyone would expect. And so as his feet left the shuttle--when [member="Xenia Nastassia"] instructed everyone off of the ship--Kalous' left arm extended toward the remnants of the prolonged tower.

Sure that the rest of the mercenaries thought he was crazy; Kalous was unaffected by a fear of bodily harm. His confidence in his own abilities reigned so supreme that it was becoming extremely detrimental to be him in any situation that involved danger. It was almost as if he was unable to control his own impulses--acting out his long term plans--without an ability to change his mind. His flexibility was something of a pleasant surprise when it appeared. When he planned on doing something--he believed he could do it no matter the extraneous activity that he would have to preform.

"Schutta tried to steal my thunder," Kalous exclaimed as he exited the vehicle in his insanely dangerous way.

From his arm there was an audible snap, but it wasn't any bone nor ligament that was heard, it was his grapnel launcher shooting off toward the tower. This grapnel had found its mark and found a hold to help ease the Nautolan's decent as he pulled against it to slow his speed when his boots thudded against the tower, his knees attempting to absorb as much contact as possible, as he began to slide down it. Those knees were what had taken the most beating during this maneuver, and they didn't feel great at all, considering the force that they had to endure as he jumped from a falling shuttle.

Sucking up the pain as best as he could; Kalous started firing his ARC-9965 blaster rifle toward the sounds of danger. He wasn't sure if he had hit anything from this distance--especially considering he was only firing at sounds at first--but he was confident that his shots were not all for nothing. It didn't take long for Kalous' momentum to slow enough for him to attach the reel for his grapnel to the back of his belt and face the battle below. He was still high enough on the tower to have a view of the entire drop zone. It wasn't until he focused--and began to use the HUD on the helmet that he had spent so much on--that he had discovered where the real trouble was located.

Walking down the side of a building--especially when he could only see what was lit up by his HUD--was no picnic. It would seem like Kalous enjoyed stacking more odds against himself as his walk turned into a jog--his knees were beginning to loosen up. His new dilemma, however, was not surviving this predicament, but instead, it was figuring out how to deal with these mysterious attackers without them all turning to kill this isolated mercenary. That was the moment when he decided it was time to stop firing, recklessly, at the ground. It was time to be sneaky.

"Merc Unit, check in."

"Somehow I'm not dead yet," he said over the commlink that resided inside of his helmet. Even the most confident person in the galaxy could surprise himself sometimes. "Do me a favor and let them shoot at you some more."

[member="Conglomerate Comando"] [member="Ultimatum"] [member="BX-1138"] [member="Rogue"] [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] [member="Xavka Duquo"]

 

[BX-1138]

The commando droid was still studying the mercenaries when sounds of cannon and blaster fire were registered by his audioreceptors. Moments later, the dropship shook and an explosion was heard. The enemy counter-attack had begun, and the Conglomerate had already lost a support ship. This would be tougher than expected. BX-1138 barely kept his balance as Xenia barked orders at the pilots and the vessel performed evasive maneuvers. The droid removed his E-5 blaster rifle from his back and checked its magazine. The ship was lowering its altitude, and 1138 didn't need someone to tell him that they wouldn't have time to do a proper landing.

The pilots managed to get them to the drop zone unscathed. Now it was time for what Unit 1138 specialized in: hard contact. As dozens of NN-series combat automata came to life and disembarked from the vessel, their metallic feet meeting the landing pad with a loud clunk, the commando droid couldn't help but recall his Clone Wars days. This seemed like the battle of Mygeeto all over again.

The battle droids marched on, keeping their repeated patterns of movement despite the hostile environment and sending crimson blaster bolts to their invisible opponents. BX-1138 was about to join them when an artillery round sent the dropship crashing into one of Sahara Outpost's towers. The droid was thrown violently to the wall. Thankfully, none of his circuits had been harmed thanks to his armor plating. He regained consciousness a few moments later, grabbing his blaster rifle and joining the group of mercs and soldiers making their way out of the fallen vessel. The NN-series droids were advancing towards something, but their targets were hardly visible to the mercenaries. Only after a couple of moments of focusing his advanced photoreceptors could BX-1138 get a clear shot on one of the locals.

It was a humanoid, and a heavily armored one at that. His—or her—weapons were enough to shoot a human's arm clean off in a couple of shots. This would be a fun challenge. The droids had seen them too, and now three NN-2 battle droids were spraying their nearly invisible with blaster bolts.

"Ultimatum, BX-1138, take up forward position. You're with m--!!"

BX-1138 simply looked at his commander and nodded, raising his weapon and advancing towards the enemy position, crouching for reduced visibility. Unfortunately for the commando, there was close to nothing in the area that could be used as cover. He'd have to rely on his marksmanship and luck to survive, as he had had to many times in the past.

"Shoot anything pointing a gun in your direction, mark your targets, happy shooting."

"Roger that," the commando said with his deep voice.

And so the struggle began. BX-1138 sent a couple of crimson blaster bolts to the enemy, before rolling to the right and sending three others, hitting one of the humanoids in the chest, with no effect apart from sending him a few steps back and stalling him. These guys were tough. 1138 noticed one of the mercenaries, the Nautolan, climbing up the tower using a grapnel launcher and shooting at the humanoids from there. He'd get a nice hole between his eyes sooner or later if he kept standing on that tower, basically yelling at the enemy to shoot him down.

"Do me a favor and let them shoot at you some more."

So he had a plan. "Can't hold them forever, Nautolan," BX-1138 stated through the group comm as he fired a blaster bolt in one of the hostiles' head, taking him down.

 

[Ultimatum]

Ultimatum wasn't surprised when things started pretty much going to hell right at the get go. It was an almost absolute certainty that if things were planned on being easy then they would fall apart quickly. He didn't like it, but then it wasn't his choice what happened. He would simply have to go on with it. He moved about as his sensors read the first shuttle being shot down. Why? Was there anything he could do about it? Yes. When they got down there they would have to search for any possible survivors in that wreck, after all no man would get left behind. Ultimatum was a droid at heart and while some droids were programmed heartless, Ultimatum had made certain that he was concerned with those around him. He might have had suspicions about those men, however he would try to save them if the opportunity arose.

Ultimatum had had barely enough to register the need to brace himself before he had to leap out. Similar to the NN units he could handle the drop without too much concern. The snow was even more convenient, making his jump more than likely a survivable one. Though, his body was heavy enough that it cut through snow quite a bit before he slowed to a stop. He was buried under a meter of snow when he looked around. He would have felt bad for any organics caught in this, but he simply shrugged off the biting cold and began digging his way through the cover. He caught an order to check in and then form up with Xenia. Evidently he was to take the forward position, not too big a problem as he could handle some beating before giving in. Even so, he had to first get there. He switched his photoreceptors to thermal imaging, which gave him a much better view of surrounding entities.

In this weather, even the droids stood out, though much colder than the organics. He was able to distinguish the enemy and tagged them in his system. This way, his sensors would keep track of enemy positions so that it would be difficult to sneak up on him. He wasn't well armed, only a basic blaster rifle. He had yet to produce a weapon for himself. He noted when Xenia sent an objective that he would have to deal with heavily armored opponents. That would make it a little more interesting. If he could get within arms reach the organic enemies wouldn't stand a chance. It was a matter of getting that close. He could dig through the snow, that would act as a natural cover which would make him harder to see, but it would slow progress too much. Maybe if he were taking too much fire he could do that, but not now. He cursed his heavy frame for once. If he could charge at the enemy then he might be able to get his hands on one. The heavy pistol from one would be a good replacement and would be more useful. It would have been much easier if he were quicker.

As it was, he would probably have to rely on catching his enemy unawares as best as possible. He wished that there were a blizzard or something to cover their approach. He would have appreciated that. He called in, "Ultimatum here. I'm sending enemy positions to you all." At least that would help, the thermal reading and sensor data would place enemies in a HUD approximately in the right position, a few centimeters off at worst. He took his rifle and began firing slowly. Shooting for enemy heads, the heat signature was slightly less visible, but the surroundings were cold enough that he could still see fairly easily. One out of three shots hit a target, a head was a small target from distance, but it would be much quicker than trying to penetrate the body armor. He couldn't tell if the shot had killed the target, as he moved on to the next.

[member="Kalous Anson"] [member="Xenia Nastassia"] [member="Conglomerate Comando"] [member="BX-1138"] [member="Xavka Duquo"] [member="Rogue"]

 

[Xenia Nastassia]

Iskeria System;​

UTC Insertion;​

Ground Level.​

​

​

​

Rabid Squad.​

[member="Ultimatum"] | [member="BX-1138"] | [member="Kalous Anson"] | [member="Xavka Duquo"]​

​

Above.​

[member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] | [member="Rogue"] | [member="Conglomerate Comando"]
​

She didn't to ask for a position check, she knew already where most of them were. The sounds of their own weapons discharged recklessly around her, lighting the sky with an exploding array of cracking lights and booming miniature waves of force. Movement was hard through the snow's gentle wall, coming up to her waist easily and deterring her from any real movement. Xenia's teeth bit together, chattering to one another, sometimes pulling her gun up to use its scope, then dropping it abruptly in preference of her actual vision. Each eye saw different things. Her left, the natural organic eye saw a long and narrow corridor, more of a bridge than an upper landing pad, and it trapped her and her men in a corridor wherein movement speed was cut in half. On either end was a tower, set aglow in dark gold lighting, and at the entrance of each tower was a separate entrance. Their approach had been decided when the landing craft Writhe Two fell and hit hard. Severing their path to the gate which now lay far to her posterior, she had her eyes set on the far away gate before her.

Xenia's other eye, the right, saw a full array of digital display. Heat signatures on enemies too distant for any organic eye to see through the whipping winds and heavy stacks of snow fall. She saw not only the bulky opponent's location, but their armor, what signals it produced, what powered it. Same with her own squad, especially the droids. Every droid was a brilliant display of circuitry and holo feeds. Systems of electrical storms which powered the elite creatures. Even the NN-2 droids struggled occasionally against the snow's embrace. When they got into range, they lowered themselves into the snow by bending at the knee and hip without augmenting the machines targeting systems. The NN-I, smaller in stature, had spread up favoring small groups in different locations. Some charged in for close contact at greater speeds by blistering the snow before them in sacrifice of their first ammunition clip. Some had crouched in snow which covered them completely and relied on heat signature scans to identify hostiles and fire then upon them through the snow's nearly invisible resistance. Steaming blasts of rapidly repeating, highly accurate snippets began to cover the enemies forcing them into a self erected cover of placed crates and barracks.

She heard Kalous first, but had already located him long before he'd spoken. High up above them on a higher perch of the tower. No time to roll her eyes, what was he doing up there, for Ultimatum delivered next. Before the droid's voice rang clear, Xenia's vision was set aglow with red boxed outlines surrounding the enemy forces. A targeting aid for general shooting. Useless to her, but every bit life changing to anyone without such sensory abilities. 1138 peppered his shots carefully, actually using a similar technique to her own NN-2 units by crouching. In one wicked moment, she had enough information to act, activating the com channel which directed her to each member of her platoon. First inspecting each of the unique droids before her, Xenia decided they would be useful for information. Tactics, reliable deductions. She wanted them with her. Ordinarily Detox fought by her side, these two would make up nicely. The others, the mercenaries, they were too wild to try and control, she had to use them for their quirks- that was, after all, their strength in combat.

"Brilliant Ultimatum, keep visual, and keep that feed stream. 1138, you're with me, we're gunna give Ultimatum all the cover he needs to make a wild charge. Their armor is going to be too difficult to penetrate from these distances, and they have access to both reinforcements and ammunition. We don't. Ultimatum, we've got you covered, proceed at full speed and crush them..."

By then she was running, having pushed and shoved to layers where the snow had been cut into low lying grooves. Her gun swung between cautious leaps, raising every now and again to fire one or two blasts in an enemies direction. Her eyes flicked and flickered into the correct combination of visual overlays and her accuracy skyrocketed. The others-- Kalous. Now she rolled her eyes, choosing to do so in a heated moment of approach when she couldn't use her gun's site anyhow.

"Kalous hold your position, that's an order. Do not give your location away, do not shoot! If we're going to get reinforcements down here we need to disable those anti aircraft turrets- we can't see them, you can. Do you have the means of scanning for their positions, they're out of my range with all this blasted snow, and I can't spare the time. Get those locations, send whatever information you find then... well, you brought explosives with you, yes?"

She paused for a moment, grinning in between a prolonged scene of rapid blaster fire and fire lit movement for one's life.

"I wonnndderrr what happens when you dump a load of grenades down the barrel of an anti aircraft battery."

She knew what would happen, but she'd love to see it. Though, more probably, with that kind of information she could utilize an air strike to strife run the guns and remove them from play with well aimed ion blasts so as not to damage the tech which would soon be theirs.






"Xavka-- do you read me?"















RabidSquad
ShovingItDownUrThroat
UrLovingIt

 

[Kalous Anson]

"Can't hold them forever, Nautolan,"

There was a silent acknowledgement in the truth to the words of @BX-1138. Kalous couldn't help himself but to think of what he could do from high atop the tower--his body facing the battle below--with the advantage of holding the high ground. Adding a scope for his rifle on the list of regrets that he had for this mission; Kalous went through a mental inventory of what he had on his person. It wasn't like he had a walking armory but he did have a quite useful array of tools: two bluebolt blaster pistols, his trusty ARC-9965 blaster rifle, three thermal detonators, a retractable stun baton, and a hidden razor--how old school.

Kalous wasn't entirely sure how he would manage to use his entire repertoire in this--obviously--grueling mission but he was certain enough that he would be running on empty by the time this entire ordeal was over. Being lucky wasn't exactly his strong-suit when it came to escaping anything unharmed. Kalous had only ever had his own skills to reply upon--primarily why he wasn't the best at following orders--but when he was a part of a team he could see the reason in maximizing his own potential by increasing the effectiveness of those around him. It was as if his focus and determination change a part of him that refused to acknowledge direction of any sort--his abilities and mental fortitude would be on full display--because he had to show everyone why he considered himself a cut above the rest.

"Ultimatum here. I'm sending enemy positions to you all."

This data was a welcome sight, indeed! Kalous' helmet's HUD overlay was now riddled with markings and designations for all of the targets that [member="Ultimatum"] had marked. That droid was truly helping everyone involved when it relayed that data to the entire group. With visibility the way it was; there was a better chance of someone shooting air than there was an enemy. The entire problem of identifying the enemy had been solved without Kalous even having to lift a finger and there was little exaggeration to how pleased this had made him.

"Kalous hold your position, that's an order. Do not give your location away, do not shoot! If we're going to get reinforcements down here we need to disable those anti aircraft turrets- we can't see them, you can. Do you have the means of scanning for their positions, they're out of my range with all this blasted snow, and I can't spare the time. Get those locations, send whatever information you find then... well, you brought explosives with you, yes?"

And yet again there she was, [member="Xenia Nastassia"], with her idea that she was capable of giving Kalous anything but an enthusiastic suggestion. It wasn't as if he hadn't planned on doing what she 'ordered' before she had done so but now it made him want to be even more reckless than he had been already. It was as if she was unintentionally pushing him to expand his own devices in a way that could end up in a grand victory or a pyriffic defeat for the stubborn Nautolan. In the end; there was something about her that he liked but he couldn't place exactly what it was. Perhaps it was that she was exactly like he was--minus their assumed genders.

"I wonnndderrr what happens when you dump a load of grenades down the barrel of an anti aircraft battery."

"While that would be amazing, I was hired to not blow things up," Kalous began with an ironic smirk plastered across his face. "And so I will venture to do things the hard way. You're welcome. Don't die."

Typically Kalous was a man of far more words than those but he had a job to do and any sort of noise that he made could end up with him being full of holes--he wasn't too fond of being full of holes. And thus Kalous gazed out into the expanse of snow and wind to lay his eyes upon the Anti-Aircraft batteries that Ultimatum had so kindly highlighted for him. Some days it was just spectacular to have friends--more acquaintances, really just tolerable beings--with circuits for brains and scanners for everything else. This moment even had Kalous catching himself thinking about picking up some second-hand rust bucket to have someone else fix up for him--as he wasn't very technologically sound.

Shuddering as a gust of cold wind blew through his tendrils; Kalous became more acquainted with the weather as his steady supply of adrenaline began to normalize--calming his mind and body--and the bone-chilling cold began to set in. He was lucky enough to have remembered to wear thicker clothes for this engagement but the cold was something that he found harder to deal with due to his physiology being more accustomed to a more tropical climate. If it weren't for the electronics in his armor, there was no doubt his teeth would be chattering, his limbs would be shaking, and his... well we won't talk about those.

"Focus," he told himself from the depths of his mind.

Kalous was formulating his own strategy to take down those anti-aircraft weapons that would suit his employers needs while still leaving himself in enough pieces to continue this mission. This kind of spontaneous strategizing was something that happened is a matter of seconds, but felt like ages, and couldn't receive much fault for turning out poorly. There was a finite amount of information that the Nautolan possessed on his objective--read zero--and he would have to maneuver himself to these giant batteries without starting much of a fuss until he got there. Knowing that wouldn't be an easy task; Kalous set his mind to moving his body down the tower that he had been 'chilling' on for the past few moments. The lower he got--the less the wind stood in his way--and the more he wished he were moving in the opposite direction.

It took a relatively short time to reach the bottom of the tower and running down it was far better than falling down it. Not until he heard the crunch of the snow, and the subsequent sinking sensation, did Kalous wriggle his grapnel free of the building to reload it for future use. There was no way that he would leave himself without a quick escape from any death-defying-high-flying situation. Finally prepared to maneuver himself toward the anti-aircraft battery; Kalous raised his blaster rifle to his shoulder as his left arm struck out into the snow--beginning a half-crouching, half-crawling, approach toward the battery. The weather was now on his side. The constantly horrible conditions were helping him blend into his environment, and his comrades were helping take away the attention of the hostiles, but he decided to continue a slow and stealthy approach to gain ground on the battery that would be seen as his first target.

The warmth of his breath flashed out of the exhaust of his helmet--blending in perfectly with the snowfall--as he managed to bring himself to his feet when he arrived at the battery. Kalous had managed to find cover behind some large containers that--he hoped--didn't contain any explosives that could kill him if an enemy fired a shot in his direction. And with the remaining transports out of the combat area things were relatively quiet around the battery. They hadn't fired a shot in--what seemed like--an eternity and it looked as if their guard was down.

These hostiles weren't unaware of the combat going on all around them, no they weren't stupid, but hadn't expected that anyone of these 'invaders' would be crafty enough to take them from behind. It seemed as if the five guards were all occupied by either starting through targeting computers at the sky or preparing for an assault against the opposite side of the battery from the combined droid and mercenary forces. It was almost as if it would be like shooting swamp rats in a T-16 on Tatooine, or it could be if Kalous had ever been to Tatooine, owned a T-16, or even shot at a swap rat. Regardless, Kalous set his confidence into a skyrocket when he turned out of his cover--which was safe except for the fact that it was actually ammunition for the anti-aircraft battery--and began firing away.

Kalous wasn't absurd enough not to aim his rifle down its sights--off of his shoulder--at the first two combatants that were looking through targeting computers. They, as support staff, weren't as heavily armored as the other assailants that noticed Kalous' reckless behavior immediately. The first two fell far too easily before the incredibly angry remaining trio began to let loose bolts from their hand cannons before--what seemed to be--the smartest one had decided to cease firing.

"Now why would you do that," Kalous asked audibly as he stopped his own barrage of flashing bolts and zinging sounds.

It didn't take Kalous long to realize the fear that he saw in their eyes as they ducked for cover--the ammo crates had been hit in the frenzy--and so he did the only thing he could do. Yes, Kalous dove straight into the trench that the three hostiles were hiding in--waiting for the ensuing explosion to pass--and allowing himself to stack the odds against himself far more than he had expected. Could his luck have really been that bad?

KABLAM!

The explosion shook the ground around the anti-aircraft battery and left the entire functioning weapon as nothing more than smoldering ash and scrap metal.

"I didn't do it," Kalous exclaimed over the commlink as he raised his head--along with the three hostiles--to check out the damage that had been done. It was for that moment, and that moment alone, when things seemed so peaceful between the four of them. It was almost as if there was a budding friendship to be had--a comradery after surviving such a disastrous ordeal--before they all remembered what was actually going on in the first place.

"Poodoo," Kalous thought to himself as he reacted faster than the other three. He was fit, muscular, and athletic, but these three were all hulking masses of armor with a thickness of person that was at least twice Kalous' size. His first mistake had led to this entry in the story of his life and he just hoped that it wouldn't all end here--during a blizzard--on a planet in the middle of nowhere; in a place where he hadn't even received full payment for fighting at. In truth, this is where his story started to get even more interesting.

Quickly he threw his rifle at the singular hostile to his left--in all fairness the man made a quick-thinking catch--before ducking a heavy-handed punch from behind. The missed punch had sent the lumbering hostile--the closest of the two to the right of Kalous--tumbling forward and sending his punch into the face of his ally. Wishing he could claim bragging rights for his luck, Kalous spun to face the tumbling man--dropping to the ground and crawling through his legs as he did--before receiving an armored knee to the faceplate on his helmet. Blinded and dazed, Kalous bounced into the back of the hostile that was now behind him--sending said hostile to the ground on top of his other friend--which allowed him, in turn, to bounce back toward the last hostile standing and his fist pounding back into Kalous' faceplate.

Kalous had to shake off the pain if he was going to survive this beatdown. After taking the punch to the face; Kalous snapped straight up--cocking his head to the side as he did so--before removing his helmet from his head with a few quick motions. His opponent was kind enough to let him do so--as he waited for his back-up to stand back up--only for Kalous to reveal to him a dastardly grin that reached from ear to ear.

Kalous threw his right arm forward--his palm facing the man in front of him--and when the man attempted to block a strike at his face; Kalous ejected a razor that was hidden in his gauntlet. Catching the razor, and reveling in his opponent's surprise, Kalous cut across the man's throat from left to right. Using his body's own momentum to spin on his heels; Kalous turned to face the two remaining warriors that remained stunned for but a moment as blood began to dye the snow at their feet. Pressing his advantage--Kalous reached for the pistol at his left hip, flicking it out of its holster in due time, and firing straight at the man in front of him. The warrior that was in front of Kalous, however, had other plans. He sprang into Kalous--knocking him to the ground--while the shots that were meant for him rang true against his remaining ally's body. And then there were two.

The impact from the ground had sent Kalous' razor and blaster pistol flying out of the trench, and yet all Kalous could do was smile, as he accepted the challenge that was imposed before him. At first, however, Kalous' body seemed limp as the brute's full weight landed upon him. The warrior's fists were welling up and striking Kalous repeatedly as he just laid there and took it--conserving his energy for the final push he would need to survive this lengthy brawl. It wasn't until the first splash of blood dripped across his face that Kalous reacted swiftly with a knee to the man's 'Krayt Dragon Pearls'. Kalous had no honor when it came to surviving.

His next maneuver contained a more calculated approach--concentrated strikes to the beast's shoulder joints and any place Kalous suspected to contain an organ--before he thrust his hips forward and turned his body to turn the tables on his opponent. Now the smaller Nautolan had the upper-hand and began to rain down blow after blow on the exposed points that the warrior's armor didn't cover. A multitude of quick strikes had him screaming in pain before Kalous reached down to his right thigh to remove, and activate, his stun baton. When the baton was ready, Kalous jumped to his feet and swatted down upon the warrior with a fury one could only contain in the heat of battle.

The warrior's body shook and jerked from side to side as his armor only seemed to enhance the shock factor. It was after a few more strokes that Kalous reached across his body and grabbed his remaining pistol, with his left hand, and sent a few shots into the final warrior for good measure. He wasn't above making sure the others were dead, and so he let loose a few more bolts into them too, for safety purposes of course. It was after all was said and done that he began to gather his equipment back together--leaving his helmet for scrap--and decided to take a breather while overlooking the rest of the battle.

"Well, I guess I'm out of the loop now," Kalous said to himself--obviously referring to the commlink that he had being completely destroyed during his escapade with the three brawlers. "I doubt they'd mourn my death anyway."

[member="Conglomerate Comando"] [member="Rogue"] [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] [member="Xavka Duquo"]

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

Xavka stood still as Xenia lead the rest of the group of mercenaries as well as the commando team out if the room, an emotionless expression on his face. He had kept the same expression since Xenia had given he and Kalous the dressing down and had kept it up throughout the briefing from both Jaster and the Commander.

As the distance from him and the rest of the members of the assignment increased that faicade slowly collapsed revealing a large smile which soon transformed into deep and slightly dark chuckles. 'I was right,' he thought through his chuckles, 'she deffinately possesses Ama-Mireth. Definitely someone to follow into battle, a true matriarch.' Still chuckling, Xavka finally made to follow the rest of the crew both the sound of his deep chuckles and ringing taps of his canes echoing through the corridors.

Striding up the boarding ramp into the dropship, emotionless mask once again in place, Xavka couldn't stop the rise of a brow at the amount of droids contained in the ship. Numerous droids lines the walls and floors of the ship, each one ready to receive an activation signal and go to work, fighting along side their fellow droids and, maybe, their owners. Ignoring his curiosity at how effective the droids would be and how much they cost he made his way over to an isolated spot and fell into the Force, planning on meditating until the ship landed at the drop point.

As he did so, he could just hear the beginning of the conversation between Kalous and Xenia and was shocked at the feral bloodlust that surged forwards and clouded his mind, blotting out the rest of the conversation as his entire attention was directed towards maiming and killing the Nautolan. Shaking his head so as to clear it of such impulses, he sank into the Force so as to examine the emotions without his perception being clouded.

Shock ran through him as he realised what had happened upon reviewing his memories. Every Zabrak would react to certain sets of pheromones, the sequences being encoded within their genetics. When a male Zabrak encountered a female, or male - depending on preference, that had a sequence of pheromones that would cause them to react, they would become more feral and possessive of the match and start releasing their own pheromones. If the partner was receptive to pheromones, a feedback cycle would start which would eventually lead to a mating frenzy. If Xavka's guess was correct, Xenia possessed a pheromone sequence that caused him to react, however it must have been a minor reaction if it took flirting, real or otherwise, to make him aware of it.

Now that he had an idea of what was happening, he could take steps to prevent it from effecting him while he was in Xenia's presence. Focussing he began to erect mental barriers against his sense of smell, blocking himself of from the scent of the pheromones radiating from his current Hikja-Semula.
He did not manage to do much more for in the next second flashes of heat seared across his skin, the acrid taste of smoke choked him while the scream of rushing air rang in his ears. Then everything went black as his head was rocked backwards and slammed into the bulk head behind him.

--------

A crumbled heap of flesh laying on the ground near to the crashed ship let out a loud and long groan of pain as it slowly unfolded. Grey hair, Orat, Jat'o, yellow eyes and a scarred visage. Blinking rapidly at the ringing in his ears that was sending ripples of pain rolling through his head. Taking a quick inventory check, Xavka made sure that all of his equipment was on his person. Sure that it was after a few moments, he ran a check of his person. Running his hand over his numb body he let out a short scream as it touched his shoulder. Feeling around he determined that a shard of metal had been driven into his left shoulder. Grasping said metal, he tugged to see if he could remove it, only to let out another scream as it refused to move.

"Xavka-- do you read me?" He looked up as a faint voice made it through the ringing. Crawling towards the sound he found the commlink he had been provided before the mission. Placing it in his ear he spoke through his gasps for breath as the pain from moving ran through his entire body, robbing him of energy.

"Xavka here. Half-dead, but here. What's the current situation?" He was sure that there was some military vocabulary that he could of used (as it was his habit to blend in where he went: among the military he spoke with their terms and slang, among smugglers he spoke Cant) but his head was throbbing too much to focus.



OOC Request: If you see any errors in this post, please do point them out. I was using a program that doesn't alert to errors so I don't know if I caught them all.

OOC Message:

Spoiler

Sorry about not posting for a while. I was struggling with my muse for this thread and was finding it harder and harder to write. The story of this thread is an interesting one and one I would like to enjoy, as such I didn't want to force myself to write as it would of destroyed any possible enjoyment. However, my muse has now returned and I shall focus on getting a reply up that covers all that I've missed.

This message is temporary and will be replaced with my post once it is done. Sorry for just backing like I did, hope you all can forgive me.

-Xavka

Translations:

Spoiler

Ama-Mireth = Soul Fire.
Hikja-Semula = Hunt Master, can be used to mean Commanding Officer.
Orat = Horns.
Jat'o = Clan Tattoos, found on the face.

[member="Kalous Anson"] | [member="Xenia Nastassia"] | [member="Ultimatum"] | BX-1138 | [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] | [member="Conglomerate Comando"]

 

[BX-1138]

The droid ducked, fired and reloaded on a seemingly endless loop. Even his advanced sensors weren't able to determine some of the enemies' positions in such a hostile atmosphere. He had taken two attackers down and put a nice dent in three others' armors, but he wasn't infallible: sooner or later a blaster bolt would tear his torso apart and turn him into scrap metal. Something had to be done—this battle could go on for hours if they...

"Ultimatum here. I'm sending enemy positions to you all."

That was a pleasant surprise. Ultimatum clearly had better sensors than him. BX-1138 made note to upgrade his as soon as the mission was over—if he survived, that is. He shot several rounds at the hostiles as the data sent by the other droid was being downloaded. A moment later he had an almost clear view of most, if not all of the enemy troops. Thankfully, they didn't seem to outnumber 'Rabid Squad' and the NN-series droids, but they probably had reinforcements inside the facility. Taking them down wouldn't be easy.

Now that he had a clear shot on most of the hostiles, it was time to show his squad some real marksmanship. The commando droid rolled to the right, raised his rifle, crouching, and sent three blaster bolts right into a hostile's chest and another on his arm. He was about to finish the guy off with a few more shots when a message was relayed to him by the squad leader.

"Brilliant Ultimatum, keep visual, and keep that feed stream. 1138, you're with me, we're gunna give Ultimatum all the cover he needs to make a wild charge. Their armor is going to be too difficult to penetrate from these distances, and they have access to both reinforcements and ammunition. We don't. Ultimatum, we've got you covered, proceed at full speed and crush them..."

There wasn't the slightest fluctuation in her tone indicating fear or any other emotion that might distract a being during a firefight. This commander knew what she was doing, and BX-1138 was glad she was on his side. The droid slowly made his way to Xenia, returning blaster bolts to the enemy with deadly efficiency. "Roger that, commander."

He was only a few meters away from the commander when he realized that he had brought three thermal dets with him. Now that he knew of the enemy positions, why not throw one on their rear ranks and cause a few seconds' chaos and distraction that Ultimatum could use? A calculated throw, and the det would be too far from Xenia's squad to effect them, but still cause some chaos amongst the enemy ranks.

If he was going to do it, he had to do it before the other droid charged at the enemy. "Thermal det," he simply stated, grabbing one of his detonators, activating it and throwing it on the hostiles' rear ranks. He would thank the other droid for relaying the enemy positions later. That would shake them enough for Ultimatum, Xenia and the NN droids to eliminate some.

The explosion was spectacular, to BX-1138 at least. The hostiles at the back were either dead, injured or shaken while most of those on the front were disoriented, even for a few seconds. Those few seconds were crucial, if Ultimatum moved quickly enough, Xenia's squad would gain the upper hand.

1138 didn't waste a second. He immediately emptied his magazine on the nearest enemy, who fell on the snow carpet, either dead or injured. The droid almost unsheathed his vibroblade instead of reloading, thinking he could slice the enemy at the unprotected sections of their armor, but thought better of it. "Ultimatum, now!"

He was inserting another mag into his E-5 rifle when he heard a familiar voice from the comm. So the Zabrak was still alive! Things were going good so far. If Kalous succeeded in his mission, which 1138 supposed he did due to his audioreceptors registering another explosion moments after he threw the detonator, Xenia's group would gain the upper hand. But the Nautolan's comlink frequency was gone, and that meant two things: either he was dead, or his comlink had been damaged. 1138 hoped for the latter, but didn't let the matter distract him from what was happening at the moment.

[member="Xavka Duquo"] | [member="Xenia Nastassia"] | [member="Kalous Anson"] | [member="Ultimatum"]​

RabidSquad ftw

 

[Ultimatum]

Ultimatum didn't think as he kept the system targeting running and updating as it streamed a live feed to the rest of the group. It took a bit of processing power to keep it up and running, but it got easier once the initial calculations were accomplished. They weren't droids, but the enemy were predictable enough, military procedures tended to do that. He shut off his thermal vision, cutting out photoreceptors would save a little in regards to the processors. Anyways, he could rely on his sensors for safe data on enemy whereabouts. Geographic anomalies of great importance would also be noted by his sensors, but anything that didn't appear on it would under most circumstances be inconsequential for his movement. He already had an idea of what way to move in the case of a charge, which would be his most effective form of attack.

He was glad to be appreciated, at least to be complimented on his in combat decisions. He knew that one of the most useful advantages for a soldier was combat awareness, and Ultimatum had always thought that there was no greater form of awareness than knowing exactly where the ally and enemy were in a given area. It was a wonderful thing about droids, they could be given the ability to have perfect situational awareness; Ultimatum wished that organics could be fitted with such an ability.

His time for thoughts however had expired, though it never should have begun. It only took the order from Xenia and a followup recommendation from the commando droid for Ultimatum to calculate the most efficient path and begin his forward charge. "Beginning." His footsteps were heavy on the snow and his targeting array picked out the first enemy he would hit. He smiled at a thought. However the thought behind it was cut short by a blaster shot. It struck him in the upper chest. It left a crater on his chassis, though the agrinium armor absorbed the worst part of the shot. His receptors reported the shot and for a moment Ultimatum was concerned with the possible loss of control. However, such fears were unfounded. His system reported only a 'flesh' wound. He hadn't lost control of anything, though it would take some buffing and repair metal to fix the blacked metal.

He continued pushing forward, letting his thoughts return to tactical calculations. In order to accomplish the full effects of the charge, he would have to follow his preliminary strike with another attack. He decided that his enemies would soon learn an important lesson about choosing one's shots. It was only five seconds before he reported across the comm, "Taking one out." The enemy was fully armored, helpful against most forms of energy weapons and even most organic melee weapons. However, the sheer kinetic power of a droid, or even an incredibly strong organic was more than enough to deal with it.

As was to be expected, the enemy could see him coming. Thought by that point Ultimatum had too much momentum to be stopped even if he were shut down. This played to his advantage, as one would expect. Due to the bad visual conditions, the target had barely been able to see him before Ultimatum was on him. Unfortunately for the enemy, the death wasn't quick. Ultimatum's first order was to disarm him, that meant either knocking out the weapon, or forcing the hand in the case of being unable to do the first. His decision was made for him when the organic refused to let go of the blaster when Ultimatum tried to swat the hand to the side. His reflexes were faster in simply arm movements, thus he reacted much faster when the target attempted to pull the blaster in for a close shot. The arm that held the blaster was dislocated in a moment. This in and of itself wouldn't have been painful, except that organics have nerves and muscles that were in some way or another aggravated. The organic was trained well, Ultimatum would give him that, he didn't cry out or otherwise reacted other than stopping and holding his arm. He evidently had lost focus on his enemy, that was until Ultimatum slapped him hard across the head, knocking him out. Ultimatum wasn't one to kill unless necessary. He followed this up with a quick grab of the blaster pistol and firing off two shots at nearby enemies before moving closer to continue in that manner. He spoke over comms, "Got one. Orders?" He asked more to make certain rather than to ask for orders. He was too busy with his own thoughts and continuing the live feed to take in the explosion and possible loss.

[member="BX-1138"] [member="Xavka Duquo"] [member="Kalous Anson"] [member="Xenia Nastassia"]

 

[Republic Trooper]

[member="Xenia Nastassia"] [member="Ultimatum"] [member="Xavka Duquo"] [member="Kalous Anson"] [member="Edward Frisby"] [member="BX-1138"] @Rouge

"This is Commander Stol,---- Crash Site on level 12 it---- 3 troopers and all the pilots are dead, we have encountered little enemy presence and have reached a -----unications Terminal, reception is tough but we have radio dominance, 2 troopers and 5 NN Droids are securing our room---- seems to be a security center----- camera operational------ pirate presence------ approve lockdown requested--"

The radio signal ended.

 

[Xenia Nastassia]

Iskeria System;​

UTC Insertion;​

Ground Level.​

​

​

​

Rabid Squad.​

[member="Ultimatum"] | [member="BX-1138"] | [member="Kalous Anson"] | [member="Xavka Duquo"]​

​

Above.​

[member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] | [member="Rogue"] | [member="Conglomerate Comando"]
​

Xenia's shots were precise and well aimed, focusing on those she saw disappearing behind cover and hovering there until they reemerged thinking themselves safe. The NN-Shock Rifle was accurate almost to a fault, and blasted more bolts than she knew how to handle at first. Rifles, or anything larger than what she could hold with one hand, weren't her speciality and felt alien in Xenia's hands. Her NN units had come close enough now to take unavoidable damage, blasters tearing chunks of their armor away and forcing them to submit to metallic scraps. Coolant and a thicker, green viscous liquid oozed from dozens of the lifeless shells, some of the NN-I droids stepping over their lifeless brethren and commandeering their weapons so as to dual wield. Greater power, more shots fired, half the accuracy. Amidst the chaos, Ultimatum had more than enough opportunity to make his assault, moving quickly under protection from those gathered around and swiftly ending the resistance of his first, armored victim. In small swarms, the enemies began to pulse and riot, only now understanding that they were up against something much more proficient in war than them. Droids, metal men, mercenaries, trained forces, and Xenia.

Breaking formation, some of the armored hostiles fled for less immediate cover, having caught onto Xenia's surprise and shoot tactics, spreading themselves thin. With loose aim they discharged their own weapons at whatever drew nearest to them, tearing apart an NN-2 through the sheer force of combined heavy fire, and laying waste to another three NN-I. With one motion of the hand Xenia commanded the commando unit to follow her lead, raising her weapon and running headlong into the action. With her targets fleeing for somewhere safe they couldn't focus on her, so it was only a matter of seconds before Xenia was in their midst and causing chaos. Whipping around a corner, tearing down her first foe, smashing another's helmet with the base of her gun then sending a volley of hyperactive blaster chatter into a human's face and reducing it to little more than organic drool. Ultimatum was there already, using the full force of his powered metallic frame to wreck those in close proximity, crashing through armor and tearing life apart with cold fingers.

"Ultimatum, cover my left flank, 1138, cover my right. I'm opening that door!"

She had to duck twice to avoid wild shots, though a third barely missed its mark and instead tore the rifle from her hands to send it sprawling to the ground in a smoking state of disaster. She payed the loss little attention and instead made haste towards the large bunker door. Two men remained stationed by the control panel, their job to stop anyone and everyone coming for the entrance port. Each took aim, but by the time they had raised their heavy pistols Xenia had pulled, aimed, and fired a single shot into the closer man's caved stomach. In her hand was the sleek Nubian royal pistol, a weaker model not actually capable of penetrating the armor in one shoot but more than suited for buying time. Another shot, and another, sent the man stumbling backwards, wheezing as she bounded over him to send a lateral kick powering into the combatant's knee. Unfortunately it hadn't carried the anticipated strength Xenia had counted on, and the man easily recoiled with a side long swipe of his own. She felt the hardened edge of a pistol sink into her cheek and could taste blood in her mouth, but she didn't stop even for one moment. Both fell backwards and grunted in their landing, and Xenia could see the man she had left behind begin to rise once more.

All three warriors rose, Xenia in between both bulky men, each of which stared her down with the mild snarl of anger. Behind her, the droids and men alike buzzed with activity, no doubt caught up in their own affairs. Offering a quick smile to the man in front of her, then dropping it promptly, Xenia raised her arms as if to admit defeat. "You got me, you got--" but the act was over before it completed and she had sent another blaster into her enemy's chest, another kick, then a whirling knife throw which sent the man behind her falling deftly to the ground for his turn at immortal silence. Announcing his own surprise, he who stood ahead of her tried shooting only to have his weapon forcibly removed from an odd winding movement of Xenia's design, wrapping her leg behind him and sending his falling hard to the ground. As if the whole ordeal had been child's play Xenia walked past and sent another four green bolts into the man's face, requiring the first two to break the armor, and the next to liquify the man's cranium.

The door was nothing special, your typical armored bunker entrance, encoded access keys, and an impressive decal encoder. Though, she wasn't slicing- she had the codes. Xavka and the second objective's commando both broke the static silence of deafening warfare at the same time, their voices overlapping and cutting each other off. She heard each nevertheless, and barked orders instantly in return, even as her fingers swiftly dispatched any resistance the door's security had to offer. "Xavka, I read you loud and clear, sending medical attention now. NN-I units, scatter, I want these grounds covered and locked down securely." The door hissed and swung open, sliding back and into itself to reveal the sleek insides of Sahara Outpost, level 100. "Commander Stol, this is Xenia Nastassia," what was he doing all of the way down on level twelve, that was near the outpost's bottom levels near the base of its massive tower.

"Secure your surroundings commander, then I want a full report," Xenia barked. "That security center may just be our ticket out of this mess-- I want full enemy layout readings. If there are more of 'em inside, I want to know about it. Run preliminary scans on floors one hundred through eighty starting at one hundred, those are our first concernffkktss--"

Then, almost brashly.

"Kalous, what in the hell are you doing? Status report, I need those AA turret positions yesterday."







Elsewhere.
A cluster of three NN-I droids made their way to the crumpled Zabrak, carrying limited but for the moment ample supplies of bacta injections. Enough to satiate the pain and begin the healing process, not shy in their approach with the thick needles. Xenia needed everyone available, the mercenaries weren't getting paid to lay around- and in turn, she wasn't hear to lose her men. Despite their mechanical casings and programming for war, the droids were gentle in their care, propping the man's head up and issuing a com-link of their own in place of his dirtied, damaged one.

<<What's your condition, Xavka Duquo? Xenia is requesting a full scale lockdown of ground level, can you stand?>>

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

Waiting a few seconds after requesting a situation update and hearing nothing, Xavka ripped the com-link out of his ear and held it up to his lone working eye only to growl as he found it no longer functioning. As such he failed to hear the news about medical aid being sent towards him. Spitting out a quick curse in Ul-Zabrak, Xavka turned his attention onto figuring out what was happening and what had happened himself.

Looking around at the still burning wreckage scattered around him, it was clear that the transport had been shot down somehow by whoever it was that was clearly holding the Outpost. Looking back at his memories Xavka was able to determine that the impact of the weapon against the transport had most likely caused his head to be slammed into the bulk head he had been resting against, which was more than likely the cause for his loss of consciousness. Despite the fact that he, logically, understood that it wasn't his fault, Xavka couldn't stop the rush of shame at being rendered so helpless so easily rushing through him.

"Well that's what happened down." Without realising it Xavka had slipped back into a habit from his time as a slave, talking to himself when there was no one around. "Okay, no what's happening." Focussing Xavka slowly reached out into the Force and wrapped himself around many stands that weaved throughout the universe. Slowly, he unravelled his mind from it's mortal shell until, barely able to feel his body anymore, Xavka reached up and placed pressure on the wound on his left shoulder. The sudden wave of pain threatened to cause him mind to slam back into his body, but he managed to resist. After making sure that he would be able to keep pressure on the wound, Xavka released all but one strand, the feeling of pain, and let the Force carry him away. Directing where his incorporeal for went, Xavka willed himself next to each of his team mates. Kalous was just finishing up a fight, one he had struggled in his injuries were to believed. Xenia, Ultimatum and 1138 were currently at some blast doors which were slowly sliding open.

With an inaudible snap, Xavka's mind collapsed back into his body. Panting heavily in exhaustion and attempting to ignore the newly formed headache, Xavka lay his head back and tried to get some rest. However that did not last long as his yellow eyes soon snapped open when he felt cold, metallic hand manipulate his head up and inserting a commlink into his ear. <<What's your condition, Xavka Duquo? Xenia is requesting a full scale lockdown of ground level, can you stand?>> Xavka paused in answering as he tried to take stock of his injuries. "No, I can not stand. My list of injuries include a headache, possibly caused by a concussion, sprained or dislocated right knee, a shard of metal in my left shoulder, more than likely driven into the bone but not severing any major veins, possible numerous cracked bones and multiple lacerations and bruises." He paused as he looked over the resources the droids held before coming to a decision on what action he would take.

"You and you," he pointed to two of the droids, "I'm calling you J'ku and J'su. I'm about to enter a quick healing trance to heal my internal wounds, while I'm doing so you are to remove the metal from my shoulder, and where ever you may find it. You," he pointed to the last droid, "I'm calling you J'lu. You're to deal with my knee. Get to work." That said Xavka retreated into the Force to begin work. First he dealt with the minor wounds; the small amount of internal bleeding and bruises. He first sealed the broken veins shut before directing the accumulated blood to seep out through his pours. That done he then began to weave together the broken veins, repairing them. Turning his attentions towards his head, Xavka was relieved to find that the injury wold be easy to fix. After forcing the muscles to relax and release their tension he began work on the bones, making sure to collect all of the crushed shards and splinters so as to replace them where they were needed before fusing bone to bone as well as repositioning cracked bone so that he could fuse to broken pieces together.

-----

He awoke a minuet later to find that he was in as best a condition as possible considering his injuries. His left knew, while stiff was realigned. His aching joints and pounding headache were eased and no more blood seeped from his wounds. His left arm hung limply though and his shirt was wrapped about it, obviously to act as a patch. Groaning, the now bare chested Zabrak, his Jat'i (Personal tattoos found on the chest as well as, sometimes, the back) and numerous scars on the right side of his body exposed, rolled to his feet and looked about for the droid but could see no sign of them. Shrugging it off Xavka collected his cane and slugthrower from where they were resting and made towards where he felt Xenia's presence with his senses reaching out into his surroundings so as to warn himself of any hostiles.


[member="Xenia Nastassia"] | [member="Conglomerate Comando"] | [member="Ultimatum"] | [member="Rogue"] | [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] | [member="BX-1138"] | [member="Kalous Anson"]

 

[Kalous Anson]

The snow flew down upon the battlefield that was now stained various colors of red, blue, green, and whatever other colors that the combatants leaked over the course of the engagement. It was almost as if Kalous were viewing a work of art--a painting--being created while the colors appeared before him. His small break was now coming to a close, however, and as such he knew that he had to do something about the rest of the anti-aircraft weaponry. It wasn't until he began to rise from his snowy throne that he realized how grand a feeling it was to not be receiving 'orders' from [member="Xenia Nastassia"].

From the beginning of this mission she had acted like she had been in complete command of all of the mercenaries that were paid to be here, and to a point she was, but that point was far underneath Kalous' aspirations. He had stated his terms before they had left the ship and as much as she would like to think she was ordering the Nautolan around--the fact remained that Kalous was not the one to receive orders from anyone. The truth of the matter was that he only took what Xenia said into consideration for himself before acting along a parallel course that could soon see each of them at odds once again.

The lack of the distraction of communication was like a weight being lifted off of Kalous' shoulders but that also provided him with his largest problem--reporting in locations for air strikes. It's true that--in order for the team to receive reinforcements--Kalous had to figure out a way to communicate the locations of the other anti-aircraft weapons to some fancy ships in orbit but it was also true that all he had to do was figure out a way to disable them so they wouldn't pose a problem during the battle. This question of how to accomplish a task such a this, however, was something that Kalous had to quickly answer before the rest of the mercenary force ended up dead.

"Maybe these guys have something I can use," Kalous remarked to himself before he began to pat down, and search, the enemies that he had just killed. These few souls were still warm and slippery--covered in blood and char--but there was a chance that Kalous could be lucky enough to find a commlink or a datapad with all of the enemy positions on them. His luck, unfortunately, sucked. Finding nothing useful by shaking down the corpses of the recently fallen; Kalous set aim to find the power station that this anti-aircraft weapon was attached to. If there was a chance to find a common link between the weapons that--assuredly--had to be it.

Cold and alone; Kalous searched for a power cable of some sort, and it was easy enough to find after kicking a few clumps of snow, to trace a path to a power source. This moment, however, is when Kalous' bad luck was finally turned around. This anti-aircraft weapon had been the closest to the power station that was protected inside of the base that the group of mercenaries were tasked to assault. Normally, this would be a precarious situation that would involve an infiltration and a high chance at getting killed by auto-turrets and grenades. The benefit of things being as they were--that was the reason that a devious smile was plastered across Kalous' face.

It would seem as if all of the anti-aircraft weapons were fed power through a single group of cables that split off from a main line. This main line was the very same line that Kalous had discovered by walking a little bit more toward the base and kicking around some snow. The reason for his smile? That was because all he needed to do to disable all of the anti-aircraft weaponry was to blow up the cable. And if his bosses weren't happy about it; it was just a simple fix of splicing the destroyed cables back together to power the remaining weapons.

Sliding his blaster rifle back across his back; Kalous removed the three thermal detonators that he had attached to his left thigh--setting them to a timed explosion as he did so--before placing them in strategic positions around the cable to insure destruction. He wasn't a fool when it came to demolitions but it also wasn't one of his strengths. Knowing what he did about his own limitations, Kalous proceeded to run as fast he he could in the opposite direction of his explosive surprise before another loud BAHOOOM could be heard from the distance of the battlefield.

"Mission accomplished," he said to himself, smugly, before deciding to return to a more tactical pace. Now he had to somehow rejoin the battle without anything to identify friend from foe or see too well in the snow. It seemed like it would be just another old fashioned day on the job.

It would take a few minutes, and a few too many blaster bolts exchanged, before Kalous had made his way to the door which Xenia had managed to open. Part of this screamed 'trap' to Kalous--after all, why wouldn't the new inhabitants of this base not change all the access codes for the facilities--but there was still a job to be done and Kalous sorely wished to be paid his due. And so, sliding down a snowy embankment, Kalous arrived back to his feet in front of the, now open, door. Walking through the battlefield with blaster bolts whizzing past his head in the most nonchalant manner one had ever seen, Kalous simply nodded in the direction of Xenia before he realized that this was probably the first time that anyone in the mercenary force had actually seen his face.

"Poodoo happens," he said with a shrug, shooting a few bolts in the direction of any enemy that he saw pop out of the snow. It was unfortunate how careless some of the droids, and mercenaries, had been when attempting to arrive at the door. There was a time for a thorough obliteration of the enemy forces before completing an objective and now was definitely that time. Kalous was not a fan of being shot in the back. "You can go first."

[member="Xavka Duquo"] [member="Conglomerate Comando"] [member="Ultimatum"] [member="BX-1138"] [member="Rogue"] [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"]

 

[Ultimatum]

Target 1 - Quadrant 2​

Target 2 - Quadrant 3​

Target 3 - Incapacitated​

Target 4 - Deceased​

Target 5 - Incapacitated​

Target 6 - Quadrant 3​

Target 7 - Quadrant 4​

Target 8 - Quadrant 4​

Target 9 - Quadrant 4​

Target 10 - Deceased​

Target 11 - Incapacitated​

Target 12 - Locating...​

​

"What an interesting day this has become." Ultimatum said to himself as he turned his comm open and sent a message back. "Affirmative. Covering" He activated specific search mode in the area required. Left flank, based on her current position that would be... quadrant 2. So far not many people there, but then the snow was throwing off the perfection of his sensor readings. The sudden change threw off some of his calculations, his processors suddenly running a little harder, having to keep the live feed with the overall sensors as well as searching through the minute sensors for closer range. It was enough to cause him to no longer think about much. He looked forward to the day that he had a body more specifically built for thought processing.

There, heat signature of another target. He kept Target 1 in the near sensor locations while he refined the one he was looking at. The guy seemed more intent on some other target in the opposite direction. He pulled up the pistol, not needing to check the sights. He knew he was on target, he pulled the trigger three times, being careful to let the arm reset back to the target before firing again. He watched intently as two shots struck home, one melting the plate at the back of the head and the other hitting on the man's back. Firing another shot melted the flesh in the back, almost killing him instantly. He was out of the fight now. If the wound didn't end him, the cold would. Ultimatum had calculated that the temperature was simply too severe to allow the man to survive the compromised suit.

He felt another shot hit him, this one spinning him around. The shot had struck in the upper right shoulder, again only leaving slightly bubbled metal and a blackened mark. He turned back towards Target 1, who had been the one to get the shot. The man fired again, though Ultimatum had already responded to the preempted attack. Ultimatum bent slightly before sighing and firing four shots at the man, two striking in either arm and the other two hitting the heart area of the man. He wondered, would military groups consider that a kill shot? He had never really researched military groups, they stood for things that he didn't agree with, but he knew that they were important. He updated the list of targets, putting Target 1 as deceased, pending further proof, and putting one Target 12 as incapacitated.

He began moving in as he noticed that the door was open. He kept his sensors on quadrant 2 and 3 they seemed to still have enemies. He would have to be careful, though he could handle anything they gave him... except now his armor needed some serious repairs, well not 'serious' more like aesthetic repairs. It was irritating that organics couldn't create a weapon that didn't' damage his chassis in such a way.

[member="Kalous Anson"] [member="Xavka Duquo"] [member="BX-1138"] [member="Conglomerate Comando"] [member="Xenia Nastassia"] [member="Rogue"]

 

[Xenia Nastassia]

Iskeria System;​

UTC Insertion;​

Ground Level.​

​

​

​

Rabid Squad.​

[member="Ultimatum"] | [member="BX-1138"] | [member="Kalous Anson"] | [member="Xavka Duquo"]​

​

Above.​

[member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] | [member="Rogue"] | [member="Conglomerate Comando"]
​

In the time it took for Xavka and Kalous to return, Xenia, Ultimatum, and 1138 had all but cleared the first room and those who stood guard of it. Wrecked and ruined bodies lay in waste around floor space, some with their armor crushed, others blasted to bits in the forceful combination of both Xenia and the commando droid. The thick blast doors had opened up into a preliminary hallway, long and wide, with high ceilings. Well lit, and developed from lighter colored metals, it all looked efficient and fanciful without being decadent. Display screens lit up the side walls with "you are here" maps and other miscellaneous details. Grouped along the corners were a few more assailants, cowering under fire and sending their own deadly shots back at the mercenary group. Xenia had already shot a few bolts into the protective armor of the man closest her, and was engaged in a dead-on- charge towards him. Another green bolt removed his weapon, and before he could react to the change Xenia fell upon him, leaping and kicking her legs around his neck before spinning with his body and landing him heavily on the floor. Dazed, her opponent offered little resistance for that moment sealing his fate as a dead man before Xenia drill bolted seven or so shots into his face plate. "Nice of you to," Xenia started, eyeing another enemy who had just given away his position during an investigatory survey of the hall space.

"... Stop by."

It was at both Kalous and Xavka together that she spoke, a sidelong glance cast at the two men as they poured in. Kalous looked as if he'd seen better days, his armor blown apart and his tech fried, Xavka too, torn apart and stitched together. Cuts and scars lined his body, overlapping tattoos and broad shoulders. She smirked, then raised her arm absently to strike another few blaster bolts roughly in her new target's direction. The pirate, mercenary, whatever the group consisted of, decided he had better chances in running and regrouping with the others before sticking it out and attempting to remove the threat by himself. With a whooping haller, digitalized through the man's helmet audio output, the pirate made it as far as the back wall before being cut down by many more bolts than Xenia could have shot by herself. She had a team behind her. One enemy lay crumpled in cover at the hall's far end, another two laying in wait just outside of the room, all three too afraid to break from shelter. With the five of them back together, Xenia took the chance to give her own status update, speaking quickly and clearly.

"Kalous, your coms went down. How're those AA batteries?"

A second, more worried look fell over Xavka, but Xenia didn't say anything which might wound his pride. She had been deformed and smashed during combat once, too. On Kashyyyk, where she had been deformed by the loss of her eye due to gun fire. But she had gone on fighting, powered through the pain. She could only expect that Xavka was prepared to do the same here and now.

"The ground level is secure and on lockdown, my NN units will take care of that. Two objectives from here. First we secure floors one hundred through eighty nine, then we re-establish com systems and power to the main generators. It is imperative that we get Sahara Outpost back online for the viceroy's arrival. Ultimatum, 1138, I'm sending you layout schematics now."

Before she was even finished giving the announcement, Xenia had sent a barely encrypted ping file to both droids which could be accepted through their own personalized holo-fields and unique systems. Rough interior layout designs, devoid of enemy information or tactical layouts, but carrying all of the main points of interest. Turbolifts, communication arrays, systems terminals, and the maze of Sahara. "Ultimatum, Kalous," she said pointing to each of them, "and 1138, get to floor eighty nine. They can get you there," Xenia said in reference to the droids, though speaking to Kalous. They were the most qualified to clear floors of enemies, and with both droids their navigational skills would be unmatched.

"Xavka, you're with me. System terminals and com arrays are clear across the first level. If I can get to that terminal I'll be able to send any information to and from Iskeria back to viceroy Jaster's position. Bio scan units will also give us an estimate of how many we're up against."

There wasn't any time for questions. Xenia nodded to each party, not identifying a leader among any of them though accepting that each member brought their own strengths to the team. Kalous brought his reckless abandon, the canon of the group, willing and able to pack a punch where needed. Ultimatum the sheer, hulking power of a droid as well as the internal processing power to serve as quite the strategical outlet. 1138, while perhaps not designed to think on quite the same level, was a droid of war and thus more than proficient in elimination of life. Given the task, it wouldn't fail. Xavka, however, was both wounded and, well, different. She had seen him with a blade while in orbit, telling of martial skills in a more honed and trained style of combat than the rest. And he carried that same, almost aromatic scent as the Jedi. An odd aura of mysticism which shrouded him into brief moments of obscurity. If her job was to provide stealth support, he would be one of the best choices-- simply because 1138 was finding use elsewhere.

"Move."

 

[BX-1138]

Finally, the hostile atmosphere had stopped interfering with Unit 1138's audioreceptors and sensors. They were now inside the bunker, where he could operate at peak efficiency. He listened carefully to the commander's instruction, receiving and registering the floor plans and some other data sent by her. Luckily, he'd been assigned to work with Ultimatum, a far more armored and stronger droid, equipped with better sensors and processing unit than 1138's old Clone Wars ones. His only downside was that he lacked subtlety. Perhaps 1138 could learn from him by analyzing his movements and tactics. And then there was Kalous, the stubborn but not incompetent Nautolan. The commando didn't have an opinion on this one, but he had singlehandedly destroyed the enemy's AA turrets—that had to count for something.

The droid would smirk if he could. The enemy stood no chance.

BX-1138 took the lead out of instinct, just like he had numerous times during the Clone Wars, making his way through the bunker's corridors silently, without uttering a single word to his squadmates. He kept advancing before suddenly halting behind a door, signaling his allies to do the same by raising a hand. His audioreceptors had picked something up.

"Registering audio disturbance," he said sharply. The turbolift that would get them to level eighty-nine was behind that door, but so were at least three hostiles—1138 had identified three different voices and some metallic footsteps. The droid positioned himself to the side of the metallic gate, taking a small device attached to his back, above the vibroblade. It was a thermal detonator tape, which they'd use to break through the sealed hatch and catch the enemy off-guard. The droid would rather have sliced through a terminal to gain access and lob a grenade inside, but the door didn't seem to have a console to access it from the outside. He placed the small explosive in the center of the gate, before glancing at the Nautolan and the other droid, as if checking if they were ready. They would move in and secure the area the moment the charge blew and eliminate any hostiles before moving to the turbolift and securing Floor 89.

Then finally, several moments later, the charge detonated, creating a small blast that was enough to breach the closed hatch. BX-1138 lobbed his last thermal detonator inside the room.

And the shooting started.

 

[Kalous Anson]

Warmth was a sensation that Kalous' body had soon forgotten since he had been outside in that snowy hell that they attempted to call a habitable planet. There was nothing close to describing the sensation that puckered up Kalous' face while he was traversing the expanse of snow that soon collected on his features. The blood on his face was nearly frozen hard enough to break off and kill someone with and his tendrils were so tightly wrapped around his head that it almost looked as if he were trying to smother himself to death. This was not the type of planet that was very conducive to Kalous' well-being.

"Kalous, your coms went down. How're those AA batteries?"

"One blew up, you know, that gigantic explosion that you could probably hear over the blaster fire," he began with a shake of his head--his tendrils swaying from side to side. "Then I cut the main power to the rest of them. I don't know if they have back-ups though. I had to make do without my comms. I got into a somewhat... invasive situation."

Regardless of his body's misgivings on the situation at hand; Kalous was pleased the moment that he could feel the warm, once again, return to his face. There was almost a smile of pleasure written upon him at the sensation that was raining upon his features as they thawed from the cold air that lingered in the entryway of this grand structure. As it were, however, this smile faded quickly when [member="Xenia Nastassia"] began attempting to order him around--again! It was if she was just unable to grasp the concept that he had clearly laid before her when the mission began. And worse yet, Kalous could not let her self-perceived superiority stand over him any longer.

"Ultimatum, Kalous," she said pointing to each of them, "and 1138, get to floor eighty nine. They can get you there," Xenia said in reference to the droids, though speaking to Kalous.

"Listen, lady," Kalous began in a tone that was very unbecoming of any civilized person. There were few things that made him angry in this galaxy but being ordered around was one of them. "You ask me, you don't order me. I told you from the beginning that I'm getting paid to get a job done and not to follow anyone's orders."

His words came out a bit harsher than Kalous had expected but there was no turning back now. He had wanted to be nice--he hadn't tried to supersede her orders yet--but this was the last straw for Kalous. Being stubborn surely didn't help this situation but he was just far too headstrong to accept commands from anyone that wasn't specifically paying him to do a job. His job wasn't to hold hands, and be micromanaged, Kalous made his living on getting missions done his way.

"My mission is to secure the command center, and that's what I'm going to do, but I don't need you to direct me on my mission. So stay clear out of my way and this will end without any ​unnecessary casualties," Kalous growled as he pushed through the rest of the mercenaries--[member="BX-1138"] bolting out in front of him to take the point--without so much as a glance back to the rest of the outfit.

Kalous felt like he was more than capable enough to handle this job by himself--sure there was no way he could feasibly accomplish this task by himself--but he had grown tired of this second-rate team dynamic. In all honesty, Kalous probably still held issues from his prison time. When one was held against one's own will in an environment where one could only rely on themselves; such an environment could seriously warp such a person's mind against working with anyone but themselves.

As the lead droid began to place detonator tape on the door in front of them; Kalous was overcome with a strange curiosity about these two non-gender descriptive personalities.

"Do either of you identify as a gender?"

[member="Conglomerate Comando"] [member="Ultimatum"] [member="Rogue"] [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] [member="Xavka Duquo"]

 

[Ultimatum]

Ultimatum smiled as he followed the [member="BX-1138"] and [member="Kalous Anson"] move down the hallway. He was alright with being ordered around, it was normal and not unexpected. He was a droid, and he had become accustomed to the misconception that droids required commands to live, or were incapable of self thought. He didn't think that their leader believed this, he wasn't certain, but he assumed that she wasn't intending anything by her ordering them around. In a combat situation it was expected that the soldiers would obey their commanding officers. Ultimatum would follow that procedure so long as it didn't become illogical.

He watched as the commando droid put thermal tape on the door, but was distracted by a question. A rather amusing one at that. "I was programmed to be male in personality." He couldn't remember being asked that before, it brought a smile to his face. In all truth it wasn't an important factor, it was simply an aesthetic decision. It didn't matter if he were female, male, or neutral, did it?

His sensors were defeated by the thicker walls, not unexpected, as his sensors had been built for outdoor conditions of most severities. Thick walls of duracrete could cut his ability to sense considerably, compared to the effects of snow and other such. He could handle a blizzard fairly easily, soot, volcanic ash, those were easy. Durasteel walls, no. When the door opened he would be able to tell what was within, but until then he was almost blind. His thermal imaging disappeared as he turned to low light vision. He expected the power to be out in lower levels, if the enemy learned they were coming it was a logical tactical decision to turn out lights so that their men would be ready. If they didn't, well then that could be used to their advantage, Nautolan had good low-light vision, so he read. He spoke over the comm to ask about the possibility, "Commander, this is Ultimatum. What is the possibility of cutting power to the lower levels?"

[member="Xenia Nastassia"] [member="Xavka Duquo"] [member="Conglomerate Comando"] [member="Rogue"]

 

[Republic Trooper]

[member="Xenia Nastassia"] [member="BX-1138"] [member="Kalous Anson"] [member="Ultimatum"] [member="Xavka Duquo"]

"This is Commander Stol, we have finally found the jamming devise and arrested several individuals on levels 12-35, we are stretched too thin down here and have found a few police droids to assist us, there are 12 KIA pirates down here, they don't match any discription of pirates on our database, they must be stragglers from the Fringe, we have bio-scanners all over the facility and it seems that most of the 200 pirates are located between your guys posistion and level 85, that's only 75, the rest are rushing our posistion and I've already set up kill zones and such, it will be one hell of a firefight down here, I've also shut off all turbo lifts from going up, that souls assist with your posistion, the pirates will be going via the stairwell, so cover your six, there was an explosion over the radio, then shouting orders and droids stomping. It was quickly followed by blaster fire and even louder yelling, "use the turbo lifts, only way to pass all the guards, don't worry about us, we will be out of radio contact for a while."

The radio went dead.

 

[Xenia Nastassia]

Iskeria System;​

UTC Insertion;​

Inner Sahara.​

​

​

​

Rabid Squad.​

[member="Ultimatum"] | [member="BX-1138"] | [member="Kalous Anson"] | [member="Xavka Duquo"]​

​

Above.​

[member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] | [member="Rogue"] | [member="Conglomerate Comando"]
​

H.U.D. Information Update.
Scanner Fields.

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

Xavka's face may as well as been carved out of stone as he strode through the battlefield of snow, ignoring the obvious bloodstains that grew by slipping through the cracks and crevices in the frozen land, spreading away from the dead bodies. The smell was pungent in the Zabrak's enhanced senses, almost driving him to being sick as the foul aromas mixed in his nose creating a truly disgusting smell that could have driven those with a weak mind to their knees. The sounds that covered the field were slight but groans of the almost dead echoes around the male as he slowly limped towards his target, unmindful of the little aches that still existed throughout his body.

Stepping into the warmth of the building, provided by the numerous amount of equipment, Xavka rose a brow at the carnage that filled the room. Numerous dead bodies with armour matching the corpses he had walked past lay on the ground, blaster marks littering them. The obvious culprits of this, Xenia, Ultimatum and BX-118 were taking out a final target as he and the fish face- Kalous, entered.

Xavka nodded a quick greeting in return to Xenia's as he leant heavily on his cane, grateful for the rest. While his injuries were no longer severe, the tiredness from curing them and the lingering aches were enough to quickly sap him of strength. Ultimately, this rendered him into a position he currently hated. He was injured, wounded and lagging behind the rest of the party, as such his pride was dented. He gave a grunt of acceptance as Xenia issued out the orders to the group, ordering him to go with her, accepting them easily.

When he heard Kalous speak in such a harsh manner towards Xenia, Xavka's blood began to boil and it was all he could do to withhold the feral instinct that directed him to slowly and painfully tear the fish limb from limb in a blind furry. Shaking his head sharply he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind as the target of his anger and the two droids wandered off to deal with their own objectives. He recognised the instincts as the same from the dropship earlier, the urges of the J'Ku (First) of the Tai'Shan (The Link between [Bond] Mates). He would of attempted to try and push the reaction down until he could not feel it, but was too tired to do so, as such he resolved to watch his behaviour around the only female of the group.

"So, what's the plan for the two of us, I'Doz. In what way may I help?"

[member="Xenia Nastassia"] | [member="Conglomerate Comando"] | [member="Ultimatum"] | [member="Kalous Anson"] | [member="BX-1138"]