Suddenly Mandalorians! [Kilaado Raid - Mando v FO]

[Beskadala]

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En Route to Lanteeb

Yorg’s job as a freighter pilot was a slow and boring one, trudging from one side of the galaxy to the next. During this particular Hydian Way ride down to the First Order worlds, he had thought the diciest part of his journey would be from the start. Passing through the Sith Empire had its fraughts but, Yorg thought that his ride would be pretty mundane and easy after he had passed through the clutches of the Sith Lords of the outer rim.

Yorg was wrong.

Sitting in his cockpit chair in the front crew cabin of his cargo freighter he couldn’t stop adjusting his hands on the controls and lightly sweating from his balding head. Rolling his eyes to the side he once again was met with the terrifying sight of a fully armored Mandalorian warrior. She wore black steel Manadlorian beskar’gam and her helmet was fashioned like the skeletal smirk of a long dead man. She never gave her name, the horde of Mandalorians that boarded with her only called her “Beskadala.” In her hand, she held a long, thick barrelled heavy pistol with its end pointed right at Yorg’s left temple. And if this wasn’t bad enough when she spoke a cold and firm yet sultry feminine voice would growl from her helmet’s mic. Yorg didn’t know whether to be aroused or piss his pants.

“Wha- what do you guys intend to do with me?” Yorg asked for the fiftieth time ever since his freighter was hijacked out by Wayland. Beskadala turned her helmet so that her black visor’s eyes meet his wide brown.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.” Beskadala replied softly continuing with a sharp and harsh drop of her tone, “Just keep flying, freighter boy.”

Yorg looked back to his controls. The cargo freighter The Long Shanks had pulled out of hyperspace and began an approach on Lanteeb. It was a First Imperial World, well known for its manufacturing and component facilities. The jewel of which was the manufacturing metropolis Kilaado. Yorg had visited the world several times on contract from the shipping partners that Kilaado Engineering Corporation employed to deliver metals and ore materials. But, now everyone of his cargo crates were packed with Mandalorian warriors. The Long Shanks made its atmospheric approach. Yorg could feel the tip of Beskadala’s heavy pistol dig ever so slightly into his temple’s skin.

“Now freighter boy, this is how it’s going to work.” she said. “This is like any of your deliveries. Understood? Drive nice and polite, pay your fees, get your landing clearance. And we’ll be on our way.”

“A--and you’ll let me be?” Yorg said. Beskadala with her other hand grabbed his shoulder and then tapped his cheek. “That’s entirely up to you.” Beskadala chuckled, “So try not to fark this up huh?”

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On Lanteeb Flying Through Kilaado

The Long Shanks began to rattle and shake as it passed through Lanteeb’s atmosphere appearing on the otherside line a long steel straight sperent. Below the first glimmering steel and traffic stuffed visages of Kilaado. As the cargo freighter dived down and down, the comms came on and a Kilaado space patrol officer called out.

“Cargo Freighter 22335, please identify yourselves.” the patrol officer nonchalantly called out.

Yorg froze and shot a glance at Beskadala. Beskadala instead nudged his head back to his control panel by pushing her heavy pistol against his skull. “Answer the nice man, Yorg.” Yorg’s name came with a deathly hiss that cut right through his brain.

“Copy that...Cargo Freighter 22335, I.D. Long Shanks, on route from Outer Rim...uh...on materials delivery.” Yorg said trying to swallow the dread in his throat. There was a long pause. Beskadala tilted her head and leaned closer to Yorg. If something went wrong she would correct him.

“I.D. confirmed Long-Shanks.” the patrol officer replied. “Welcome back Mr. Yorg.”

Yorg froze again. Beskadala patted his shoulders. “You’re doing fine.” she whispered.

“Than--Thanks. Where am I off to?” Yorg replied. “Dock D889, over by Brendham...You ok? Long ride?”

Now a dead silence weighed down on the cockpit. Yorg didn’t know what to reply. Was this his out? Maybe he could shake off Beskadala somehow and ask for help and then make a run for the escape pod. Beskadala’s heavy pistol persuaded him to take the correct course.

“It’s a long way from the Outer Rim to here don’t you think Yorg?” Beskadala threatened, “Must be pretty tiring.” She finished by pointing at the control comms.

“Yah, long ride. Gonna need a drink after this one.” Yorg answered the patrol officer.

“I can understand that. Please proceed.” the patrol officer before closing his comms.

Yorg let out a deep sigh, as if he was exhaling ever moment of his life that flashed before his eyes. Beskadala laughed and smacked his back with her free hand. Yorg for the first time cracked a smile. The Long Shanks began its descent and now passed down the outskirts of the city towards the Brendham Dockyards, a special docking bay just for freighters. Beskadala holstered her heavy blaster and stood up. Yorg felt like he could push another exhale, but, instead focused on just getting to the docks.

Beskadala perched herself beside Yorg’s pilot seat and rested her hand on Yorg’s controls. Yorg shocked looked up to Beskadala.

“What are you doing? We got our clearance!” Yorg whined. Beskadala clenched her armored fingers on his crushing them.

“But, we aren’t going to the docks, frieghter boy.” she said. Suddenly, she grabbed the back of his head and slammed it into the control panel bashing his skull. Yorg flinched back from the bash unconscious and limped off of his seat. Beskadala then took the pilot seat and began course correcting the Long Shanks. The long cargo freighter now lurched about and would head straight for the city and pass through it. It would be a little longer, so Beskadala opened the comms to all the crates locked together in the mid section of the Long Shanks.

“Our clearance access was successful, we must thank Yorg at some point brothers and sisters.” Beskadala howled over the comms. “Prep your Besu'liiks and your arms. When we pass over the Kilaado Corporation’s headquarters we will make our attack. Those of you with other targets make sure you return to the headquarters.” Beskadala continued. “Remember, leave nothing. Take everything. Mandalore needs materials and glory, and materials and glory she will have.”

Cutting comms Beskadala set the ship on autopilot. Soon the Kilaado metropolis citizens would see the frightening sight of a large freighter passing very low between their sky-scrappers. But, until then they would have some rest bite. Beskadala stood back up and looked to the city’s horizon. This would be her first step in gaining the deeds she needed to elevate her status. She for a moment thought of her mother. But, then she banished the thought. It was ill to be so sentimental before a fight. She instead left the cockpit and travelled to the back of the crew-cabin section and began prepping the large red monstrous Besu’liik that would be her stead in this raid.

She had sent out a call to form a Great Heathen Army, one that would cut a path of pillaging terror across the galaxy. Lanteeb and this Kilaado were but stop one on this tour of ruin and glory.

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[member="Malika Mantis"], [member="Vilaz Munin"], [member="Preliat Mantis"], [member="Silas Mantis"], [member="Liset Vereen"], [member="Jor Kvall"], ​

[member="Yasha Mantis"], [member="Shia Kryze"], [member="Atin Alo'ran"] [member="Rolf Amsel"]

LINK TO OOC: HERE

 

[Atin Alo'ran]

Atin stood beside his monstrous War Machine, his hand traced over it for a moment, his other hand holding his helmet tightly in hand allowing his face to be free to those around him in the Cargo Bay "I've never rode one of these," he chimed out to anyone that would listen "Any tips?" he smirked, bringing his helmet up to be placed onto his head, his hand leaving the mount to double check his gear, pulling his armor straps tightly against one another to make sure he was ready, he tapped his helmet a few times allowing his Minerva HUD to activate inside, running a quick check on his Repulser Pack. After all he didn't want to end up falling thousands of feet to his death if his ride somehow was destroyed. He picked up his MX-1 Sniper Rifle, placing it onto a presumed holster before turning swiftly grabbing his two DT-29 Heavy Blaster Pistol placing them in his thigh holsters, one on each side. It was obvious, to anyone that stood around him that the Young Warrior was nervous, by his movments and tone of voice. This was his first raid, and against the First Order at that. It gave him little room for failure, he couldn't. As the Ship began to shake, he knew it was time. He felt bad for the poor spacer they hijacked, but none the less he pushed it deep into his thoughts. It was a bad idea to get sentimental before a battle and over someone who wasn't even a vod. He wished Ha'rangir was with him, his feline droid kept him safe and he knew that It had his back in the chaos of battle. The sound of a door opening brought his eyes towards Beskadla snapping him out of his deep thought, his voice chimed out once more "It's like a speeder right?" he found himself funny at-least.

Spoiler

Equipment:

Spoiler

MX-1 Sniper Rifle
DT-29 Heavy Blaster Pistolx2
Knuckle Plate Vibroblade, Left Knuckle
Minerva HUD built into his Helmet.
Repulsor Pack
Fibercorb Whip

Malika Mantishttp://starwarsrp.net/user/387-malika-mantis/, Vilaz Muninhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/4953-vilaz-munin/, Preliat Mantis, Silas Mantis, Liset Vereen, Jor Kvall,
Yasha Mantishttp://starwarsrp.net/user/12519-yasha-mantis/, Shia Kryzehttp://starwarsrp.net/user/16839-shia-kryze/, Atin Alo'ran Rolf Amsel [member="Beskadala Ordo"]

 

[Silas Mantis]

The Mantis ran a hand over the side of the aging besu'lisk, beskar against beskar. The prosthetic came to a stop at the war droid's head which turned to face its armored rider. "I told you I'd make it up to you." Silas spoke to the machine which let out a shrill cry of satisfaction. The old bird was excited to be back in the fight, it was all it had really, and since the close of the civil war it had been undergoing extensive repairs. An artillery shell to the side tended to do make those necessary, not that the droind hadn't made a fuss of it.

Hanging off his armor were his usual tools of trade, an MF-44 shotgun, M-35 pistol, and the tomahawk-Little Wolf duo crisscrossed over the small of his back. He rairly deviated from the setup, it suited his needs perfectly and gave him some measure of versatility. Would he be partaking in a sniper duel anytime soon? No, but that was why he had a massive war droid that reduced sniper's nests into rubble and ash.

Clambering up and onto the droid he cast a glance over to [member="Atin Alo'ran"] as the newcomer took to a besu'lisk for the first time. While he made no effort to respond to the man's inquiry, he did make a mental note to keep an eye on him in case he got himself flung from the machine. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd seen it happen, the groaning machine he now sat atop had flung him from its back plenty of times. On purpose too, hopefully unlike Atin's.

[member="Beskadala Ordo"]'s call went out, they would be in the fray soon, pillaging and destroying in the name of Mandalore's healing. Silas held a personal vendetta against the First Order for reasons even he wasn't quite sure of, perhaps it was he had never liked to Imperial Remnant types, or their elitist attitudes, or maybe it was simply the fact that they hadn't seen a defeat in so long. Either way, this was more than just a simple raid to him.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat Mantis was not very fond of war droids, but their tactical advantage was something to behold. He reached up and threw the tarp off of his. It whirred to life, and turned to look at Preliat. He had not ridden it, or turned it on since the war with the Sith, so many years ago. The red eyes glowed back at him and the beast began to purr back to life. He turned and looked at his brother, [member="Silas Mantis"], but offered no conversation. They were all here for the same reason. They did not need to have a family meeting prior to the wholesale slaughter of whoever dared oppose them.

He watched [member="Atin Alo'ran"], then looked around, to the other Mandalorians. Preliat slid the M45 rifle back into the sling, letting it rest across his chest as to not interfere with his jetpack. The two Westar-34s on his thighs were secured, and the Crushgaunts- his spiked gauntlets that had more weight to them than just the physical presence of them- were secured. The last thing was the buy'ce- the helmet.

He secured it over his head, and listened as the magnetic locks sealed and the air pressure was equalized within the suit. He tapped into the Mandalorian comm network- a local network that produced a low-frequency that was based on line-of-sight, rather than the one bounced off of the planet's Ionosphere- he'd use that later after the battle began.

"Comm check."

 

[Progflaw99]

Outer Rim \\ Lanteeb \\ Kilaado​

Designation: Mynock \\ FOSB Safe House​

Alert Status: High​

​

The message had come in nearly a full two minutes ago. Two minutes. To a businessman typing up a TPS report, or a casual mall shopper, that was no time at all - to Malcolm, that was all the time he needed. The safe house had been established during the initial push as the First Order spread its influence outward from the capital of Dosuun. "Mynock" as it had been designated had been used little since, an almost forgotten outpost on one of the most central worlds of the First Order. It wasn't the most important of worlds, despite housing numerous production facilities, many were civilian run corporations. In fact it was with a measure of pride that the companies produced components for the First Order without actually being given access to the full blueprints. Useless information, but an odd thought that passed through the agent's mind as his hands worked.

Originally Mynock had been used as a holdover, a temporary location at which to hold VIP's or HVT's. It was rarely used as such now, merely an echo of what it once was. What it did have was an armory. *A stout one too..* thought Malcolm to himself. It wasn't a military base, and it certainly wasn't as well equipped as an armory of the First Order's Stormtrooper Corps, but it did have something else going for it - dealer's choice. Not every weapon in the small armory was of First Order design nor manufacture. It gave them an edge. One Malcolm was intent on using if given the chance. Already he'd donned his protective gear - he wasn't strictly supposed to be using it, it was SpecOps property but in the heat of the moment it was all they'd had on hand. As he reached out, just about to slide the helmet over his head he cursed loudly. *The intern.* With a grunt and another curse, he left the weapon where it lay, instead ducking back out of the door. "Proby, get in here!" After a moment of silence, he raised is voice again, banging his fist on the wall. "Today sweetheart!"

*The Intern.* Malcolm shook his head. It had been a last minute addition to the station, or rather a last minute assignee. Technically he was just as new but by virtue of the woman being the newest - "Proby". It was a term of affection, or at least it was meant to be. It kind of depended on who was saying it and in what context, but it fit the probationary Agent just as well. [member="Astoria Vero"] had been assigned the post temporarily, a simple babysitting gig for some smuggler named Ferrol and an attempt to get him to spill the beans on an illicit synthohol mixture being found in clubs across the First Order. He'd yet to crack, but with the emergency alert and activation it looked like that would have to wait another day. Turning back in towards the armory, he began prepping a second suit for the woman - the message had been nondescript, they needed to be ready for anything.

First Order forces had been scrambled the moment the freighter had made a deviation. They were at war afterall, even the worlds near the heart of First Order space had been on high alert, and a freighter deviating course towards the skyline? Yeah - that was a no brainer. Even now TIE's screamed towards the freighter, setting an intercept course. Simultaneously several transmissions were sent towards various agencies and posts. Whatever was about to happen, the First Order was already ready for war - even this deep into Order space.

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[member="Malika Mantis"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Silas Mantis"] | [member="Liset Vereen"] | [member="Jor Kvall"]​

[member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Shia Kryze"] | [member="Atin Alo'ran"]​

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Hang in with your fingers in the little wells… and… ah, ever ridden a turkey or a bantha?” Yasha muttered to @Atin Alo’ran. “Cling with your knees… good luck.”

The girl kept silent the rest of the way, hugging into the bes’uliik she borrowed for the raid. While the one she and [member="Shia Kryze"] rescued from the wastes of Mandalore was still in repair, the girl thought best of getting enough practice to make the old thing sing in battle… instead of its’ penchant to throw up the cockpit cover, and run her to the ‘safest’ place its’ droid mind could find.

Dang safety unit. Over protective was a thing with Solus, and for one moment the twelve year old wished she’d brought the old damaged bes’uliik along. It was only a moment. Her father [member="Preliat Mantis"]’ voice clung on the inside of her buy’ce. “Heard, Comm check.”

She let the few words of her Mantis family remind her to keep quiet, and edged on her bes’uliik. Soon… Soon she would kick someone in the face.

At least that was the goal.

[member="Beskadala Ordo"] [member="Silas Mantis"] [member="Shia Kryze"] [member="Liset Vereen"] [member="Jor Kvall"] [member="Malcolm Denwich"]

 

[Robogeber]

Objective: Secure.
Allies: [member="Malcolm Denwich"] | [member="Karl Rippach"]
Enemies: [member="Silas Mantis"] | [member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Beskadala Ordo"]
Location: FIV Malice, Command Bridge

Above Lanteeb, Supreme Leader Sieger Ren's undisputed gavel formed up. The Sixth Fleet. Fleet commanders and officers from across the Anoat and Barkhesh sectors had now gathered at the shipyards to receive new equipment, and refits. However more importantly to meet and plan for their next move in their righteous war against what felt like half the Galaxy. As the fleet of star destroyers formed in orbit, waiting as more commanders and captains who had been dispatched from Hoth and Bespin.

From the bridge of the FIV Malice, Rausgeber watched as the destroyers formed a mighty fleet in orbit, all under his command, at least for now. No Grand Admiral's had made themselves present, meaning Rausgeber was personally in charge of this fleet, thanks to his seniority. He sat to the fore of the command deck, watching as TIE fighters ran patrols around the shipyards, and small corvettes darted through and around the fleet. Carlyle felt a deep sense of satisfaction and security. Here sat the First Order's might. Unchallenged, and unwavering.

"Admiral!" A voice called from the bridge. Rausgeber's contended happiness evaporated in what felt like mere seconds. From the content smile on his face, the fleet admiral soon returned to the snarl which accompanied any interruption of his thoughts. He turned back to the bridge, and identified the source of the noise. It was the Signals Officer, the young lieutenant in charge of communication. Immediately as the Fleet Admiral turned around, the young officer withered beneath his glare. "Sir," He nervously stammered, "We have a situation."

Rausgeber hovered over, near silently, "Please, do elaborate lieutenant." He coldly commanded, as he continued to ghost the crew. The lieutenant looked down at this terminal, and then up at Rausgeber, but not daring to look the man in his 'eyes'.

"A freighter veered off course admiral." He informed the admiral, "They were given clearance for landing, but have moved well away from there, and are headed to Kilaado city." The Comms Officer continued, "No warning otherwise was given."

"Was any reason given?" Rausgeber inquired, "Are there emergency counter measures being put in place?" He asked, "Have we got any vessels moving to intercept?"

"TIE fighters are in pursuit, but given the size of the vessel, damage will be negligible sir." The officer continued. He paused, "Shall we intervene?"

Carlyle nodded, he was troubled by this. Whatever it was, it didn't bode well. Could this be some SIS attack? Or perhaps sabotage by Jedi? Who could tell at this stage. However, action would be taken by the Sixth Fleet. Rausgeber was not the kind to sit idly by while threats existed. "Order the FIV Holdfast to activate it's gravity well projectors." Carlyle commanded, "And get me a line to ground forces. Any assets we have down there. I want to know what the hell is going on."

 

[Asantas]

She listened to the comm chatter as she made certain to keep herself familiar with all the controls her bes’uliik had, It was a first time for her to use it and only had a short amount of time to learn fortunately before deployment they had at least a nice long trip to give her plenty of time to be familiar with every piece, She checked her equipment to make sure everything's in order including the new shotgun toy she brought along for the ride, she was on the task of slicing for schematics but she hoped to see combat soon as she waited for the drop off. Slicing or not if she had to shred her way through to get to where she needs to go she will gladly unleash the armaments of her Bes'uliik upon all the None mandalorians that get in her way.


[member="Yasha Mantis"][member="Malcolm Denwich"][member="Preliat Mantis"][member="Silas Mantis"][member="Atin Alo'ran"][member="Beskadala Ordo"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Allies: Mandalorians l [member="Yasha Mantis"] l [member="Beskadala Ordo"] l [member="Silas Mantis"] l [member="Atin Alo'ran"] l [member="Liset Vereen"]
Enemies: First Order l [member="Robogeber"] l [member="Malcolm Denwich"]



Preliat's hand went up, and the riders and Mandalorians took their positions. With a closed fist, the war droids and other machines turned on, and then- all hell broke loose. The bay doors to the Freighter opened, and then- hell broke loose. The war droids- the mechanical beasts that had once razed planets from the atmosphere- decimated the TIE fighter squadron that was the initial response team- and the war droids began to pour from the freighter, screaming towards their intended, pre-determined targets.

Preliat's comms went wide. Even the First Order could hear him screaming. A blood-curdling, horrible scream of no-one other than Preliat Mantis. And the equal effect of all the friends that Preliat had brought with him.

Preliat's war droid went downward, screaming towards the surface of the planet, like the horror stories of the world-burning Mandalorians of old.

 

[Beskadala]

Location: Cargo Freighter, Flying Low Through Kilaado Skyline
Objective: Board Kilaado Engineering Corporations Building
Allies: [member="Vilaz Munin"], [member="Preliat Mantis"], [member="Silas Mantis"], [member="Liset Vereen"], [member="Jor Kvall"], [member="Yasha Mantis"], [member="Shia Kryze"], [member="Atin Alo'ran"]
Enemies: [member="Malcolm Denwich"], [member="Robogeber"]
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The jig was up. But the fun was about to begin. Her Mandalorian brethren, a mighty heathen army of raiders began to pour out from the crates of the freighter they had hijacked. Outside First Order TIEs began to fly low and flank the frieghter. Beskadala watches them from her port windows. Beneath her helmet she smiled. Turning away she smacked a near by Mandalorian warrior on the back laughing, "There is nothing more beautiful than pray leaping to bait." With that she mounted her Besuulik and flexed its controls causing it to roar in mechanical dread and terror.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DZDNuhtqPQ0​

Riding her war beast droid to an open crate she checked her comms and called to her brothers and sisters, "Mandalor has spoken! What we do here will echo across the rim. This is but the beginning! Let us make it a bloody and glorious one!" As she finished her speech, Beskadala caught sight of a TIE flying in close level to her crate. She pushed war beast droid and it leaped like a lion towards the TIE. Its out stretched beast droid arms swiped at the TIE's solar panelling tearing it off and sending the imperial starfighter into a death spiral down into the urbanscape below. The cargo frieghter itself now pulled above the Kilaado Engineering Corporations (KEC) main building.

"Keep the freighter running low over the building." Beskadala barked to the Mandalorian she had sent to mind the freighter, "If the Imperials are as civil and sophisticated as they say then they wont jeopardise mass civilian deaths by downing our freighter." Then the armored maiden lurched her war beast to blast its thrusters and fly into the KEC building, firing its blasters to blow holes in the side of the tower. Beskadala reached for her combat rifle and couched it in her arm.

"On me my brothers and sisters! Take everything! Leave Nothing!"​

​

Beskadala fired her backpack jump pack and flew into the hole she had blown. Landing in a combat roll her war beast followed smashing through another pain of glass behind. Getting up Beskadala quickly began her march down the hallway. "I want splicers to get me map coding! Follow me." she continued, "And someone patch us into planet aero-traffic chatter. I want to hear whats flying outside!"

The plan was now simple, get out of sight and into the belly of city. Take everything and use the people as cover. She had no interest in massacring the people of Kilaado, but, if the First Order pushed her - then a city as collateral for rich materials and data was a fair trade to this Mandalorian.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Allies: Mandalorians l [member="Preliat Mantis"] l [member="Beskadala Ordo"] l [member="Silas Mantis"] l [member="Atin Alo'ran"] l [member="Liset Vereen"]
Enemies: First Order l [member="Robogeber"] l [member="Malcolm Denwich"]

The moment Preliat’s comm went wide, his daughter followed him in a war cry for the ages. She swooped out in her bes’uliik and clawed into the underbelly of a TIE interceptor, the droid ‘arms’ rending metal as the cannons fired upward into the cockpit.

Slag veered down, the cockpit decimated and pilot disbanded by a screaming hell child of Mandalore. For a moment the bes’uliik was suspended amongst the wreckage, the wings on either side of the TIE stilled by momentum, framing the girl and her war droid. The wings fell as Yasha tilted her bes’uliik’s controls down and veered to flank her father and take out any weapons who threatened the most important man in her life.

Beskadala’s orders filtered in, and the teenaged Mandalorian took her bes’uliik into a spin to avoid the flak cannons coming her way. Yanking up on her controls, she ended the spiral and tore after the fighter which flanked her father, firing the front cannons of her Tbarsr-Class Bes’uliik into the side of the TIE.

It swerved, smoke coming from a hit to its’ wing. Yasha strafed in the air and sent another line of fire into the command module of the one-man fighter. She rode through the frag of the explosion and swerved downward to once again descend screaming at her father’s side.

 

[Atin Alo'ran]

Location: Cargo Freighter, Flying Low Through Kilaado Skyline
Objective: Board Kilaado Engineering Corporations Building
Allies: Vilaz Munin, Preliat Mantis, Silas Mantis, Liset Vereen, Jor Kvall, Yasha Mantis, Shia Kryze, [member="Beskadala Ordo"]
Enemies: Malcolm Denwich, Robogeber

Atin was ready, excited as he watched his Leader bust out of her Cargo Box and directly into the TIE Fighter his hands gripped around the Droid as he flung himself on top, the beast moving below him running a hand along it he gave a firm nod, forming a feint bond with it--or so he hopes. It buckled, which startled the young Warrior before he kicked it on the side "Nar Dralsh'ya!" he called out before jerking forward and out of the Hanger following Beskadala, it wouldn't be long for the now falling Warrior to hear the Iconic Sound, he thought fast as a TIE flew around the freighter and seemed to be lining up a shot on his Vod with a sudden barrage of shots from his War Beast causing it to explode into flames and debris, he quickly called over the comms "Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur!" he seemed to be getting ahold of it, "The Building, Verd!" the beast jerked downwards, gaining great speeds he took after Beskadala forming up behind her "Right behind you, Alor."

 

[Atin Alo'ran]

[DOUBLE POST SORRY!]

 

[Silas Mantis]

Friends: [member="Beskadala Ordo"], [member="Liset Vereen"], [member="Atin Alo'ran"]
Enemies: [member="Robogeber"], [member="Malcolm Denwich"], docking checks

"Comm check." He broadcasted in response to his brother. When [member="Yasha Mantis"]' voice came over the communicator, he was filled with a mix of pride and nervousness, his niece had grown into quite the warrior, but the sense of dread he'd felt when she'd squirmed out of his arms thirty-ish stories above Keldabe's streets still haunted him. Silas pushed any such thoughts from his mind, and as the door to the freighter dropped, the droid rushed forward, out into the air and screaming towards the surface.

As [member="Preliat Mantis"] war cry went out, Silas let out a bellow of his own, rolling the droid and firing its primary cannons. The heavy blaster tore through the TIE unfortunate enough to be in his way, exploding into a ball of fire which he and the old bird shot through, emerging through the flame and smoke like a hellish beast. The droid let out a shriek, shrill and mechanized, but menacing all the same.

The wolves of Mandalore had come to Lanteeb to take their fill, and bring glory to Mandalore. Anyone who dared opposed them was welcome to try, but the dead who'd been strewn about the halls of the Executioner would serve as a warning.

 

[ShadowSentinel101794]

"How hard could piloting a war droid be?" Quoron pondered this to himself while waiting for the order to wreck havoc on the First Order to rebuild the glorious civilization of his people. "Comm check" the phrase woke him from his pondering and he began to feel a righteous fury begin to build inside. He was ready. After all the years of training and preparation he was wear he was called to be. Shoulder to Shoulder with the fiercest fighters in the galaxy; furthermore, he was ready to give all he could to reclaim his people's glory. At last the war cry was uttered and he flew out of the ship on his war droid immediately he was under fire from a TIE that had the unique misfortune of being his first target. He urged his bes'uliik along side the TIE and with the droid's claws grabbed the cockpit drew his sword and slashed at the fighter's wing. Spinning the droid to avoid the the doomed TIE. He flew his droid to follow the trail of destruction that was already beginning to form.

 

[Astoria Vero]

Location: Outer Rim || Lanteeb || Kilaado​

Designation: Mynock || FOSB Safe House​

Allies: [member="Malcolm Denwich"] || First Order​

Enemies: Mandalorian Empire​

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“Espionage is the most powerful art there is. It’s beauty, design, and intellect, all in one. It shows the world who you are and what you’re capable of –”

Astoria Vero paused from where she paced in front of a rather rudimentary mirror, bambi eyelashes lowering despondently to take in the sight of her tragic gray uniform. It was too tight and too loose in all the wrong places, and the sallowness contributed nothing to her complexion.

“—just like this vile outfit shows the world that I could be a used ship salesman.”

The upturned button of her nose wrinkled in horror.

“Or a twelve-year-old boy!”

Could there be anything worse? Astoria thought not!

“Never mind that,” She muttered after a moment, summoning a smile from the depths of her dignity and winding a finger through one blonde, glass-like curl. “Today has to be my magnum opus – my chef d’oeuvure, my pièce de résistance. I need to present myself as a crown jewel, surrounded by other smaller, slightly imperfect jewels – but quality gems, nonetheless.”

Who was the girl talking to? Herself, naturally. No one had ever accused Astoria of being non-theatrical, and if ever there was a moment for a monologue, this was the one. After dreaming of this day since she was a tiny tyrant in pigtails, the daughter of the prominent Captain Radcliffe Vero had come from the gilded halls of her prep school coterie to make her debut among the First Order’s best and brightest: the Security Bureau. Everything had to be perfect.

That included lipstick, right?

Astoria leaned forward into the burnished light of the mirror and puckered the rosebud swell of her lips.

“This is it, Astoria darling,” The little priss murmured, running a pristine nail along the outline of her shiny cerise gloss before stepping back to gaze at herself reverently. “This is your time to—”

"PROBY, GET IN HERE!"

“WHAT?!”

The affected accent Astoria had adopted for her private soliloquy dropped in an instant as she whipped around from the mirror and shouted unceremoniously down the hall. Without waiting for a response (Astoria so hated to wait), she rolled her eyes mightily, turned back toward her reflection with a girlish huff, and prepared to resume her preening, until –

WHACK!

A fist resounded against the wall - Astoria squeaked and nearly jumped out of her boots!

"TODAY, SWEETHEART!"

“Ugh—I mean, JUST A SECOND, I’M COMING!”

Funny, how this was starting to sound just like Astoria’s mornings before school. With one last errant flip of her hair, the girl scampered off with the dainty speed of a cottontail, only to collide face-first with the broad plane of [member="Malcolm Denwich"]’s back as soon as she crossed the armory threshold. In that moment, Astoria learned that it was possible to actually bounce off another human being – the only pity was that she’d chosen her very large, very gruff supervising agent to test that theory on. Astoria briefly wondered if she should start planning alternative career paths now.

Willowy legs carried her several paces backward. As she retreated, a simpering smile teased weakly at the corner of her mouth, whence one nervous, airy breath escaped – an incomprehensible blend of um, erm, and uhh. Clearing her throat and collecting herself, Astoria offered the man wide blue eyes and a small, sheepish shrug.

“Astoria Vero, er . . . reporting for duty, sir?”

​

[member="Malika Mantis"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Silas Mantis"] | [member="Liset Vereen"] | [member="Jor Kvall"]​

[member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Shia Kryze"] | [member="Atin Alo'ran"]​

 

[Hansen]

"Whisperer"
Kilaado Surface, The Anvil and Forge.
In Vicinity: None

Spoiler: Equipment

• Collapsible Titanium Quarterstaff
• Dissuader KD-30 Slugthrower Pistol
• Snap Batonhttp://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Snap_baton
• Whisperer's Travelling Outfithttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/121770-whisperers-travelling-outfit/#entry1698452
• Vibroknifehttp://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Vibroknife

Unscrawling a large rectangular shaped piece of parchment atop the bench Whisperer gestures to the measurements and shaped stencilled carefully and precisely upon its surface raising her simmering fantastic Sulphuric yellow eyes to examine the Near-Human Kiffar man whose face is smoked black from working furnaces through the day in stark contrast to the carefully clean and pristine appearance maintained by the mysterious customer who had often found reason to frequent the Forge in search of all manner melee weapons and armour. "You must make this for me; these are measurements for plate thickness and dimensions." The woman's voice is spoken with an accent that is distinctly clipped, cool albeit harsh sounding vaguely reminiscent of an Imperial accent which was no doubt acquired due to her affiliation with the First Order unknown to the Kiffar metalsmith. Gesturing; her index finger carefully glides across the shapes tracing them before petting gently at the materials and thickness dimensions prompting a low whistle from the man. "Titanium and Fleximetal plate is expensive, you've got the credits for it?" Whisperer's eyes rise slightly with a low brief grunt she had never proven fickle with payment before and her inward pride believes he should be thankful to be patronised with such projects; a continuing acknowledgement of armoursmithing skill that one would think to be received as a compliment. Whisperer slides gloved hand into pocket and carefully places a platinum credit chit atop the parchment fore steely dagger gaze find their target on the blackened Kiffar's face with a subtle glare. "Half now to commission your services, half when you complete the work." Whisperer's cushioning voice belies the impact of next quiet threat uttered beneath an already quiet tongue giving pause for a moment the cape swafts through the air as the ashen haired woman walks away leaving the man with his payment and armour plans. "You might yet keep your armourer's license." Whisperer's attention is gripped by the buzzing comlink device sitting around eyelobe a hand glides swiftly over towards it.

"Yes?" Sliding hands into pocket she makes course down into Underground club to sate the growling hunger of stomach though the voice that enters her eardrum forces a smile that is fleeting to the news that it brings. "Lieutenant Colonel Demek, there is an evolving emergency security situation on Kilaado." That stops her dead on the Cantina's stairs and places index and middle finger firmly against the earpiece and listens more closely, for some distant SOCOM Officer to contact a member of Fireteam Sturm while inactive was something serious and she focuses appropriately. "Of what nature?" Thoughts immediately go to the thought of the Galactic Alliance mounting a Commando raid upon the planet's many factories which produced tanks for the Stormtrooper Corps. "Paramilitary Insurgent have breached the atmosphere and we believe are assaulting or preparing to assault the KEC building. We need you to go to the target building and ensure it is evacuated we can't afford to allow key engineering or administrative personnel to be taken hostage." Anda quickly darts back up the stairs cloak flowing through the air behind her one hand goes and sweeps it to the side so much for making it back to Mustafar for training in-time, fingers peel a leather strap free from over the holstered Dissuader Pistol drawing it carefully while brandishing a First Order Stormtrooper Corps I.D pass in the other; Lawful proof of her assumed identity didn't want to be shot by any would-be comrades. Fear quickly takes hold of the Initiate; fear of failure and death sending a fantastic passion deep into breast heart aches to race ever faster with each powerful stride making her way past citizens who were beginning to panic from the sound of distant explosions and sound of TIE fighter hurtling down into the street around corner. 'Maybe I can make blaster noises at them' Whisperer thought inwardly to herself disdainful of the raid's timing interrupting what could have been a rarely earned moment to relax prior to rendezvousing on Mustafar with her fellow Praetorians for further training. "I need support My Lord."

[member="Astoria Vero"] [member="Quoron"] [member="Silas Mantis"] [member="Atin Alo'ran"] [member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Beskadala Ordo"] [member="Liset Vereen"] [member="Robogeber"] [member="Malcolm Denwich"]

 

[Zef Halo]

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
KILAADO

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There was much to think about after the engagement over no man's space with the Galactic Alliance. Specifically, the capture of the Tetan Empress [member="Lily Kuhn"]. The knowledge of her and his cousin's - [member="Asharad Graush"] - romantic relationship, be it one sided as far as he could see aboard the Red Veil, certainly shocked him. Therran was unsure whether he should regret the opportunity of eliminating his cousin that day, perhaps it was not an opportunity at all if he had his doubts right there and right then. The gap of power between the two still remained astronomical.

Today his mind had to dwell elsewhere. As an Intelligence Station Chief he would mostly be mobile, as such was the case here. He'd been attached to the Bespin Security Bureau which were the supervisory security element of the area including Lanteeb. The chief was given to objectives - investigate the Sixth Fleet for any dubious activities during the battle at no man's space by tapping into any sorts of recordings of all the ships of the fleet that participated in the encounter. Such reports would clearly arrive from inserted security personnel under cover as naval officers aboard the Sixth Fleet. His other objective consisted of supporting FOSB efforts in investigating corruption within the echelons of Lanteeb's local power.

"What?" Therran asked the small BB-9E unit that rolled into his chamber beeping. "Show me."

A beep, followed by the motion of servomotors and miniature timing belts before the black unit projected a holographic recording of Mandalorian War Droids tearing up First Order TIE fighters.

Immediately after, Graush's wrist datapad lit to life with the same information. He'd been unaware of a freighter diverting its planned flight path as that did not concern him. Not his job.

Yet the appearance of Mandalorians, who Graush almost encountered during the battle over L-49, certainly rang higher up the food chain alarm bells.

The Sith would not waste anymore time in this room, a slight burst of Force Speed led him quicker to the outdoor landing pad to his Annihilator-class starfighter. Old model, but maintained better than most contemporary ones. House Graush certainly had the funds.

Engines went to life in a near-silent but deep rumbling noise. Blue flames lit from its tail and the triangular-shaped starfighter was off into the atmosphere of Kilaado after the Mandalorian interlopers. Meanwhile, the information of Mandalorian raiders quickly made its way through all encrypted FOSB channels in the Bespin Bureau. Operatives were diverted to take action to the current situation, only if their current assignment was below the level of crisis/importance this situation was labelled with.

Blasting through the air with no regard to speed as his IFF and identification would clearly allow him to break sound barriers as much as his heart desired in the urban area. The dark side led his actions, turning Therran into one with the ship itself, granting him capabilities beyond the average pilot. Twisting and turning as he evaded collision with traffic, Therran would arrive in the scope of the radars of the raiders. The starfighter's extreme speed allowed it shorten the distance between him and the war droids at a quicker pace. Upon arriving to a distance considered possibly either between mid and long range - Therran fired a salvo at the battle droids of the Mandalorians.



[member="Beskadala Ordo"] | [member="Atin Alo'ran"] | [member="Silas Mantis"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Liset Vereen"] | [member="Quoron"]

[member="Malcolm Denwich"] | [member="Astoria Vero"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Astoria Vero"]

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Location: Lanteeb | FOSB Safeehouse "Mynock"​

Objective: Lock down safehouse, ensure the protection of FOSB documents.​

Nearby allies: [member="Astoria Vero"], [member="Malcolm Denwich"] ​

Nearby enemies: N/A​

​

​

​

Emilia Ravel's presence at the Security Bureau safe-house codenamed "Mynock" was largely routine. Her job was to lead a team of analysts to review massive stores of data containing FOSB records that the Mynock facility had obtained over its years of operation. Much of the material consisted of boxes upon boxes of documents, some containing mission reports and classified information, others containing information no longer relevant or of interest to the Bureau. The job of Emilia and her team was to decide which of the documents would be sent into storage at the Security Bureau archives on Hoth, and which of them would be scrapped, as they were no longer needed.

As the Mandolorian-controlled freighter diverted from its flight path, immediately arousing suspicion from the alert personnel trusted with guarding the planet's ports, Emilia sat in a comfortable padded chair, her familiar notepad resting on her knee, pen in hand. What was of particular interest regarding the documents at Mynock House, was that much of the information consisted of digital media. Emilia had been sitting, watching a recorded interview by FOSB interrogators dated only a few years ago. The video showed suspects being interviewed for their part in a plotted attack against civilians in a busy district of Avalonia, the motivations of which were sensationally said to be 'political.' Emilia was interrupting in her viewing, as the radio array chirped from the next room, alerting her to a message.

A Stormtrooper on guard in the hall moved to answer the call, but Emilia waved him away. She felt in her gut that she needed to be the one to answer. A few minutes ago the safe-house had been put on alert. Then, Emilia had largely ignored it. A freighter deviating from its course was likely the work of a careless smuggler. In fact, dismissing the thoroughness of Planetary Defence Forces was a mistake Emilia had made over a year prior, in her failed covert operations mission to the Galactic Alliance world of Naboo. Now, though, she felt a pang of worry. A second direct call to the safe-house was uncommon, as communication was largely limited to maintain the security of the installation. If they were attempting to communicate again, it would only be to relay important information.

She sat down at the radio station, putting the almost comically large headset over her ears and lowering the microphone until it barely grazed her lips. Leaning, forward over the desk, she stretched to press the switch on the machine that would play the recorded message. After a moment's silence, and a slight click, a calm male voice began speaking.

:: "Lanteeb control to Mynock. We have reports of Mandolorian War Droids that have engaged First Order spacecraft with multiple casualties. We will keep you advised, prepare for possible attack." ::

The transmission fell silent, Emilia waiting a moment before tapping a few buttons and taking off her headset. From across the desk she pulled a tall desk microphone, pulling the mic and accompanying device towards her until the cords were almost taught. With a deep breath, she pushed a button on the side of the device, activating the safe-house's intercom, and speaking clearly into the microphone.

:: "Attention operatives in safe-house Mynock, this is Bureau Chief Emilia Ravel. We have received reports of a possible Mandolorian attack from a ship approaching Lanteeb. I am now placing this facility under lockdown. FOSB operatives are to stand by and await further orders, security personnel report to the armoury and prepare for attack. That is all." ::

Emilia cut the transmission, hoping that the safe-house, and its occupants would remain unharmed.

 

[Xavier Payne]

Location: Lanteeb | FOSB Safehouse "Mynock"

Objective: Protect the Safehouse

Nearby allies: [member="Astoria Vero"] [member="Malcolm Denwich"] [member="Emilia Ravel"]

Nearby enemies: N/A

Xavier was stationed at Lanteeb for the time being awaiting for a ship that should be coming tomorrow to take him to Endor. Like most places this place was pretty boring for a Stormtrooper being pretty out of date by First Order standards and never any action plus Xavier hasn't seen or heard of any traitors at the place he was stationed at which was called Mynock for some unknown reason, Being an Executioner Trooper Xavier was not allowed to even go on patrols around the facility which helped to increase his boredom.

When the word of the mandos possibly attacking the facility most of the Stormtroopers looked excited for some action for once. Xavier grabed his SE-44C Blaster Pistol and Laser Ax and headed to the front of facility to prepare for some fighting but as he headed to the front his Sergeant stopped him which confused Xavier.

"Private 9630 where the hell do you think your going. You are an Judicial Trooper not a normal Stormtrooper you will be more of a liability if fighting does happen since I doubt that bloody Ax of yours will be any true help against Mandos with proper weapons so you will be assigned to guard one of the FOSB Bureau Chiefs" the Sergeant commended.

"Sir Yes Sir" Xavier said sadly

Xavier did not have the power or right to argue against the Sergeant especially since the Sergeant was correct as his Ax was only built for executions and not meant for real combat. Emilia Ravel was the one who was tasked to guard and her name was familiar which made sense since Xavier had came to this place from the FOSB Training on Hoth which was ran by her. Once Xavier got to her room he would knock to inform her that he will be one of the Stormtroopers guarding her during this Mando raid.

"Madam this is Private EX 9630 sent here to guard you. Will you like me stationed outside your office or inside?"