Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Te Family Raid

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Welcome to Noverskaa. Home of part of a secret group known as the family. We have identified multiple targets for you to hit. However today you will be raiding a space port with known ties to them. Please ensure you do not interrupt the company that runs the planet as we are unsure. The target has been shown above it has almost no defences and should be a push over. Best of luck to all of you and remember you don't know me.

Two guards sat bored looking over the bunch of ships. "You know Craig we never get anything fun to do. We are always guarding things." The other guard shook his head "Shut up Sora, you know what happens to people who run their mouths around the boss." Craig nodded "Yeah still at least something exciting could happen."

Up in the tower a bored guard would pass the time tapping the radar. This was one of the most quietest ports and most boring jobs on the planet, reserved for those members of The Family who stuffed up or generally didn't have any other skills that were useful for ships.

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(OOC: Welcome to the Te Veman and The Family Skirmish. Don't forget to go to the OOC sign up to get a writing partner. Most importantly Enjoy.)

Te Veman Callout
[member="Koda Fett"], [member="Irella Vizsla"], [member="Vlora Eldar"], [member="Silas Mantis"], @Heris Bralor, [member="Vellavert Bralor"], [member="Soloman Priest"], [member="Ronan Vizsla"], [member="Hiron Vizsla"], [member="Briika Munin"], [member="Kilum Bralor"], [member="Bryce Americus"], [member="Vilaz Munin"], [member="Dorn Skirata"], [member="Rohak Vizsla"], [member="Preliat Mantis"], [member="Tamara Wren"], [member="Teroch Munin"]
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The Family Callout
[member="Candez Stoon"] [member="Xiang Vang"] @Rapax @Arnie Isaktalus [member="Dayne Inck'ha"] [member="Shaun Castanic"] [member="Zoe Rosella"] [member="Atlas."] [member="Ivory Stroud"]
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"Evil is Evil. Lesser, greater, middling… Makes no difference. The degree is arbitary. The definition’s blurred."
[ THEME ]
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Noverskaa was to be tinder; Te Veman the fire.

The Family? A complication. One to be overcome, in the way of Mando'ade -- With a lot of beskad, oyas, and firepower. A wolf did not discriminate between its prey during a hunt, it only adapted to changes during its sport that it could not predict.


And if a criminal syndicate was seeking to put out their flames, then Veman forces would simply retaliate tenfold, overwhelm, close the jaws 'round the neck.

That, was the way.

It would not take long for the unexpected guests to make themselves known. Stealth was something not appreciated often, discretion un-necessary; the small port's sensory equipment was soon alight with tracked ships, their make and origin unfamiliar.

Some would directly assault, heading for the stored cargo, and others would diverge, peeling away to pick off vessels already in motion. Destruction, whilst enjoyable to indulge in, was not the goal. The goal was to raid, to steal, to plunder the riches earned by hard-working men to use for their own machinations.

A greedy way, some might say, but those who would speak it were often left unable to speak afterwards. A beskar-lined fist was a weapon in and of itself.

The funds they could obtain from Noverskaa's remote shipping port would be vital in the weeks to come. Te Veman was a movement with steam but it couldn't be a movement of smoke and mirrors. Credits, earned from illicit deeds like this, would take them directly to Manda'yaim, to face an infernally confounding issue on a throne that no true Mando would recognize.

Roving Mandalorians were a force of nature.

It was only a hope that it could be withstood.




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[member="Koda Fett"], [member="Irella Vizsla"], [member="Vlora Eldar"], [member="Silas Mantis"], [member="Hervis Bralor"], [member="Vellavert Bralor"], [member="Soloman Priest"], [member="Ronan Vizsla"], [member="Hiron Vizsla"], [member="Briika Munin"], [member="Kilum Bralor"], [member="Bryce Americus"], [member="Vilaz Munin"], [member="Dorn Skirata"], [member="Rohak Vizsla"], [member="Preliat Mantis"], [member="Tamara Wren"], [member="Teroch Munin"]​
[member="Vorkaliin Barass"] [member="Candez Stoon"] [member="Xiang Vang"] [member="Rapax"] [member="Arnie Isaktalus"] [member="Dayne Inck'ha"] [member="Shaun Castanic"] [member="Zoe Rosella"] [member="Atlas."] [member="Ivory Stroud"]​
 
Location: Noverskaa, Docking Bay 12

"No! No, you idiot!" The gruff voice of Captain Lui Vorn scathingly growled, "I said over there you inbred!" A chubby finger pointed to the other hoverloader. Five grunted, and rolled his eyes beneath closed lids as he strained beneath the weight of the crate. His knees as he picked it up. His knuckles going white as he clung to the edges. The man's jaw clenched shut as he awkwardly now shuffled over, to the loader, before dropping the crate. It fell, with a shattering crack. "You karkless mong!" Vorn screeched, in a voice all too familiar to Five. He immediately turned, and winced, sliding out of the way of the husky Corellian captain.

It was there, Five caught a look at the rusted crate. In dropping it, one side of the container had in fact cracked, spilling its contents unto the floor. Small, cylindrical energy cells, now spooled and rolled around the floor, a flood of them coming from the broken container. Vorn now fell to his knees and began to scoop them with his hefty palms. He began to line his pockets with the cells. A red, firey glare faced Five, "What are you waiting for?! Help me!" Five obliged, in a begrudging fashion. Vorn was a bastard. A cantankerous drunk, but he at the least seemed to be Five's only way off of that cursed dustball, Tatooine.

Five got on all fours, and began to collect as many as could while the good captain muttered something darkly. A silent, and awkward enemity seemed to permiate. It was almost intoxicating, and sat unbroken until the familiar hiss of the Dusty Shobuld's airlock opening. "Cap'n!" It was the familiar nasally whine of Cricket, the red Twi'lek first mate, who seemed to constantly brown nose the captain's lack of decision making acumen. "Spaceport's detected hostiles comin'!" Vorn seemed to stand up in an instant, an impressive feet for a man as chronically obese as he was.

"Kark!" Vorn snapped, the venom of his voice gone, replaced with dread. "Get the engines ready Crick!" He snapped, before turning back to Five, "You, haul 'em aboard!" Five stoically gave no response as Vorn hurridly waddled back on board. But, he would be damned if, after having boxed and sealed these cells, he would now drag the leaking crate into the Shobuld. No. Now was a time to maybe find himself someone new to travel with. There was no way he wanted to deal with this man again. Instead, as the two men left, Five scanned the docking bay for anyone else. And with not a word, bolted.


Anything would beat another deep space drag with Vorn.
 
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Mandalorians had never truthfully been known for their capacity of kindness, nor politeness. It did make sense, after all, considering their galactic history. They had raided, ransacked, burnt and destroyed civilisations throughout the galaxy. This, in truth, was to be like no other. Te Veman had a goal in mind, and it all started with such simplicity. Any movement, regardless of how righteous, required resources- these people, however, simply weren't very diplomatic. After all, it had been within their nature to fight. So as Fett, a Bounty Hunter turned Warlord, descended upon the planet of Noverskaa aboard drop ships that comprised of men and women from all species, united by a culture, he had known there was only one goal in mind: burn and steal. They had all known that much.

Their landing craft had sliced through the air, sure to be met with defensive fire in their attempt to make contact with the ports that 'The Family' had to offer. It had never been anything personal, nor would it; only against the Infernal's Empire, that is.

Fett had stood behind two seemingly calm pilots, and his craft had rocked back and forth as they sliced through the air ahead of them. His T-Visor had stared forwards, focusing on their intended target: the spaceport. Criminal Syndicates were often in possession of rather lucrative items, or what have you. Te Veman​ were keen to take advantage of such a thing. There wasn't a word that came from Koda Fett, for he didn't need to speak. Everyone knew their task, and it would be within moments they could act.

They were certainly itching for a fight.
 

Atlas.

Guest
A
Atlas, being the first of his species to leave his planet, wasn't really used to war. The only war he knew was from the stroies, where the winner was endlessly glorified. But was it really like that? He had heard about ships whizzing through the air, and large freighters acting as powerhouses in attacks. While on the planets people put all of their effort into eliminating every single piece of opposition they could see ahead of them. It never used to be a pretty site in his head, but he imagined a place where he could stand among his Family in pouring rain, devouring his enemies. But he realised it was never really going to be like that. There was every chance he could die here, there were plenty of people that could kill him.​
Along with being stuck on a single planet came an inability to learn any new techniques. He could learn some types of saber battle because of the force sensitive elders that lived upon the planet, but only a few forms could be learnt. And this was especially when he was in human form, his main form, being a huge wolf that towered over any normal human, was down to him using the force and his sheer size and power in battle.​
Before he left to got to protect his family, he had just learnt to fly, and one single other lightsaber form. After doing so, he made his way to his next destination... Noverskaa. He was about to enter a world of ugly death. Where one could only dream to escape until the fight was over, but it was going to be hard luck for him. While he wanted to be a living powerhouse of war, he also wanted to be friendly and explore the galaxy without problems in his way. But he was determined to make the Family win...​
 

Bryce Americus

Guest
B
It had been quite some time since Bryce had a place to call home. A place where he had people who would throw themselves in the line of fire, sacrificing their life for the lives of others. A place where he felt normal. At peace. This is what Te Veman did for him, and he was willing to do whatever it would take to show his vod that he would do the same for them.

From the canal of hyperspace came a Mandalorian M-250. Jessie D was her name. And Bryce was the brains behind the beauty. Te Veman was mobilizing in the name of conquest, a call that Bryce could not refuse even if he wanted to. He brought his ship out of orbit and ripped through the atmosphere and the skies above. It was quiet for the time being. Too quiet. Bryce needed some action and excitement. He kept calm for now, however, knowing that the fight has yet to begin, and continued towards the spaceport. He scanned the area around the port with his eyes, getting as good of a survey of the area as he could.

Bryce was a few kilometers out when he activated the autopilot and left his seat to ready his weapons. He pulled out two trusty Vors and holstered them at his hips. Then, Bryce pulled out a Diathim's Advocate from his chest. He inspected the rifle briefly before attaching it to the magnetic holster on his back. A couple thermal detonators and a first aid kit was all that was left. He was all prepped for a fight.

And one was coming very shortly.
 
Candez Stoon was eager to come to Noverskaa. The reason why? Why, he had heard that a company resided here. They made weapons, droids, so why not come? He wanted to see what they had in store, see if he could organize some future meetings and such. Aboard his freighter the Salty Mynok with himself seated inside the captain's cabin. In the cockpit, his Togruta pilot and Mon Cal co-pilot. Their astromech was working away in the cargo bay while their muscled Kel Dor played Dejarik in the entertainment lounge. His little crew.

Candez had some music blaring all throughout the ship, as he read over some things. It was mainly sketches of new weapons, designs and formulas on the physics of such weapons. A few parts lay on the table with the designs, sometimes he enjoyed a little bit of tinkering. Through the inter-com, he heard from his co-pilot that they would be arriving soon.

(If anyone of the family wants a ride in, their welcome to post they are on the ship)
 
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wlZAMnqIh4I[/youtube]​



The air reeked with the unkempt body of the prey, whilst it's neck was craned to the left; my teeth buried deep into the throat of the hapless, female, pauper. The flow of life essence transferred unto me. When my dinner bell finished chiming, those sadistic bells would fall into grave silence; the lifeless body in turn would be dropped into a lime filled claw style bathtub; the act of my feeding slowly dripping down the drain in a beautiful liquid manifestation of love.

On a sleeve, stained and riddled with dried blood from souls of those easily lied to, I wiped the last remains of my latest victim from existence; smiling with a disturbed disposition as the drain swallowed the mixed colour of the my newest painting,

I'm many things.....vampire....Vahla......combo.....witch.....nightsister....experiment.....creation of two wicked Sith Lord's boredom....or love....but I am a Family member; but I prefer the term, serial killer to sum me up. I love to kill, indiscriminately and without pause, and only one group could, would, possibly allow it. And for that.....the Family held the only loyalty which I could grant.

So when rumours of a lesser known group landed in my haunting grounds, I could only react accordingly as my two Sith Mothers created me for; murder....eat....repeat!
 
It was the nature of raids like this.

Hit hard.

Hit fast.

Get out.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"] had been honest with her. Before her death, before everything, she had not preferred these sorts of actions. He had not pretended she had been anything but what she had been. An artist first, a warrior second. Above both however.... a Mandalorian. A Vizsla. She had done her duty when he had needed her then, though he had never leaned on her harder than necessary.

Now however, the necessity was greater.

And Tamara's reluctance?

Gone.

She did not enjoy it now. But neither was there resistance or a preference against. Tamara felt nothing in particular about it at all one way or the other. It was simply a need. Not for her, but for her people. Because her father had asked it, because her clan required it, Tamara came.

These days, after the Netherworld, there was no artist first, warrior second. The artist was gone- perhaps that would change as she went forward with her plans with [member="Julian Imani"]. She could only hope (and even then, only in stolen moments). Now it was only the warrior left, given over to the needs of her clan. Not because she had no choice- her father always requested, never ordered.

But because what else was there if not the dedication? She had nothing to give, not to help her clan.

Nothing but this.

The gunship coasted over the city. In the jump bay, Tamara stood, looking out through the opening doors. One gauntlet gripped a loop attached to the ceiling, her form swaying slightly with the motion of the ship. There was a particular target pinpointed that required a specific sort of arrival.

"That's the roof!"

Tam nodded, as did the others with her. It wasn't a far drop at all as the gunship sliced through the air, but the speed they were moving meant that the timing was critical. Crouching, Tam pushed off, launching out of the back bay.

A moment of free fall and then she was ducking her head, tucking into a shoulder roll that would eat up most of the momentum. It sent her halfway across the roof before her arm snapped out, slapping into the surface and arresting the roll. The armored form popped up in a heartbeat, unslinging the plasma bow from her shoulder as the others jumped- turning and covering their landings before the gunship roared off again. She kept her position as the others rose and reoriented until they were all in place.

"Let's move."

They'd make their way toward the door on the roof. Hopefully it was unlocked.

If not?

Well, what lock ever stopped a mandalorian?
 
Location: Ship, heading for the Spaceport
Allies: Mandalorians | [member="Briika Munin"] | [member="Teroch Munin"]
Enemies: The Family
Objective: Gon' raid 'em

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From Shogun they had planned their attacks and raids, and it so happened to be that Noverskaa was on the list; specifially, a spaceport with affiliations to an organization Vilaz was unfamiliar with. But that didn't matter, the only thing that was important was the loot and goods that it storaged. Resources that would aid in their plans of fighting the Mandalorian Empire and hope to reclaim Mandalore from their hands.

Munin's trasnport flew through the air of the planet, joining with the other dropships containing many Mandalorians. They came unexpected for the The Family, though alarms would cry in regards of their arrival making everyone stop what they were doing and immediately prepare for battle. His brothers and sisters would know their objective and where to head. They'd hit the spaceport from various angles, and not all land in one specific zone. This raid was a textbook they were all familiar with. Strike hard and fast, show no mercy, and leave as quickly as possible. There would be glory to attain, but their goal was not to reduce the spaceport to ashes.

Plunder whatever they could. Credits, munitions, medical supplies, or hell even some spacecraft if possible. Just as long as they came out satisfied from this raid.

In moments, Vilaz and his hardened warriors would make their landing near a docking bay.

"Ready the ship's weapons when we arrive, and don't land the bird. Get out as soon as you can," the Warlord ordered his pilots, both acknowleding.

The dropship rocked back and forth as they evaded anti-aircraft fire from their opponents. With the ship's jammer online their chances at getting hit were unlikely. Still they'd approach with caution and not be too confident. Raids were serious business which the Concordian took them very personally.
 
Location: Spaceport
Allies: The Family
Enemies: The Vermin | [member="Vilaz Munin"]
Objective: Fend off raid

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"The art of being a warrior is to balance the wonder and the terror of being alive."
The alarms blared through out the space station, non essential personal were frantically making their way to designated safe zones. Those task with security and defense of the station were scrambling for their kit and awaiting orders at rally points. For Strider Garon, the alarms were dulled out as he confined himself to his data feeds with in his buy'ce. It was becoming clear that this was no drill and that the station was under attack by unknown forces. He should of known this was not going to be a easy gig, no one hires a Mandalorian Mercenary of his caliber to rest his arse peacefully on a out of way space station. You hire one when the probability of poodoo hitting the fan was worth budgeting for a legendary elite. The old man took a deep breath and methodically studied the data reports flowing in as he gathered his kit. He may not of recognized who was attacking, but he was familiar with the tactics. The limited amount of naval support suggest this was to be a lighting raid. Hit and run opp which hinted towards the fact he was about to square off with Seasoned Operators and not rag tag pirates.

"Time to earn my Credits!" Strider whispered to himself exiting his private quarters clad in his beskar'gam. He was not going to wait for orders. He knew what needed to be done and was more than equipped to handle a small army on his own. The infamous hound of keldabe would make way to one of the closest reported breaches, with his EE-3 carbine at the ready he moved as quickly as he could through the corridors.
 

Briika Munin

Shieldmaiden of Clan Munin (retired)
Location: Inbound ship to Noverskaa spaceport
Allies: Te Veman [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Teroch Munin"]
Enemy: The Family TBD
Objective: Raid
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Briika hated flying in atmosphere. The bouncing around and evasive maneuvers didn't scare her that much, it was more that the movement made her easily sick. Yeah, it was the Enceri-born's curse. That's why when she flew into battle, the Mando doctor self-medicated herself. Believe her, there was nothing worse than throwing up in one's helmet.

Standing at the ready to offload with the other Munin clansmen wearing her silver-colored beskar'gam, Briika gave her husband a pat on his shoulder plate with her crushgaught indicating she was right behind him. Ever since the raid on Loronar all those years ago when the two started crusading together, the Tor Munin always covered the Concordian's back side when she accompanied him on the war path.

[ Got your six, old man. ] Bree smirked with familiar sentiment to her riduur over their private comlink.

Hopefully this raid would score the Te Veman much needed goods to help furnish their cause. The Baar'ur had heard a rumor that there was a state of the art medical facility on site. If they came across it, the Mando doctor sure planned on giving it a hard look as medical supplies were always needed especially in their business.

[ Oya! ] the petite blonde called to the other vode in their group over the tach channel, rallying them on as they neared their destination.
 
Objective: Hold the Line
Location: Spaceport | En Route to Docking Bays
Allies: The Family
Enemies: Everyone else
Gear: Mask, Armor, Pistol, Sword, Bigger Sword.

The Spaceport is one of the few entrances to the planet below. The Family has done rather well in attempts of creating stations to prevent attacks, or from unsavory characters to attack the planet. Considering the larger of the two we had was on Dohmus, the home of the Family, we were slowly moving shipments of gear, utilities, fabrication tools, as well as resources to Noverskaa. One of our heads happened to have quite the influence here. Hence our fortification of such a planet.

I came on business. Attempting to meet up with the one man who would be running the whole operation for the Family out here. Why? We acted quite alike. I had heard of the exploits of the being. A hunter who prized honor through combat. Or at the very least, operated in the same capacity as I. For that, I needed to touch base with him. Find a point for both of us to work on fortifying his planet, in turn, mine would be next. However, As I was currently walking down the halls headed towards our supposed meeting, Sirens went off.

Many items all at once went off. We were being attacked, and then boarded upon by Pirates, scavengers, or whoever they were. Calmly, I reached to my datapad. Pulling it out to see any of the reports that had come up. Armored to the teeth, and currently boarding the station. I looked through Camera feeds to see a very familiar set of armors upon those who entered.

They were Mandalorian in design. However, We had contacts within the Mandalorian Empire. I could only suppose that with the various recent Civil wars between the culture, that these people were the recreation of Death Watch, or some other offshoot of Mandalorians who didn't take kindly to the same values as the Mandalorian Empire. A shake of my head in disgust as I tossed my datapad onto the table and guarded up my loins. Preparing myself for a fight to hold this station. Hefting the massive blade that was the "Gardener's Sheers" over the top of my shoulder, and resting it upon the armor I wore, steps were taken out and into the main hall.

"Move to rendezvous with the Capo and aid him should he need it."

Speaking directly to the men who had been guarding me, most of them left except for two of them. These two didn't seem to get the idea that I could handle myself. Either way, my footsteps took me towards the docking bays where some may be headed towards. What I may find there, I hoped were some souls that my blade could reap.

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Objective: Kill.
Location: Docking area
Allies: Veman l [member="Vilaz Munin"] l [member="Koda Fett"] l Real Mandos
Enemies: The Family l [member="Shaun Castanic"] l [member="Strider Garon"] l [member="Via Dolorosa"] l


Preliat Mantis- the Wolf of Mandalore.

He had come for one singular purpose. He had not come bearing an olive branch, no mercy, no respite. No, he had come for one thing only- to kill. Not to plunder, to pillage, to rifle through the belongings of a fledgling criminal organization. He would leave that up for everyone else. No, no- Preliat had come to take lives. To reap souls. He ran his fingers over his face, coating his face in the three-pronged skull of Ramanar- of death. One of the Cuir Rekr- the embodiment of Death, to the Mandalorian people. The Wolf opened his weary eye, feeling the absence of the second, but blessed by the presence of the remaining.

He only needed one eye to see his prey. They were not targets, they were prey. He was the predator.

He checked the Heavy Repeater, cycling the barrels. He was a big man. He needed a big gun. For the raid, and the confined spaces of the spaceport, massive, overwhelming firepower would win the day. He slapped the powerpack into it, charging up the powerful death machine. He carried little else. A single wrist rocket. His armor, his crushgaunts, and of course- what would Preliat Mantis be without his Tomahawk and his Beskar knife?

As soon as the ship came into the port, there was an explosion, of gunfire, of blasters, of disruptors- screams and orders. Preliat was one of the first, and shouldered the heavy repeater up to his shoulder. A normal, smaller man would've used it like an emplaced weapon- and it was more effective that way, but Preliat Mantis was enough of a beast to send a rapid volley of bolts from the standing position, towards the family.

He waved his arms, encouraging his fellow vode to push forward, to slaughter them all. He turned his head, back to the fight. The Visor of the Wolf descended upon a group of criminals. They were literally sawed to pieces by a well-placed volley from his heavy repeater.
 
Allies: Not apparent.
Enemies: Dunno
People who I'm kind of near: [member="Shaun Castanic"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Strider Garon"] | @Via Dolrosa
Location: Docking Area, Close to the Action
Objective: Choose a side and escape.
Equipment: Leather duster, DL-44 Heavy Blaster

The corridors and halls of the greater spaceport were for a moment, flooded, with spacers and local engineers and maintenance droids fleeing from the oncoming wave of force. They seemed to part before Five, like a wave around a stone. Of course he was jostled a little, but the taste of fear, it was almost palpable in the air. It clung to them all. And in some part of him, Five did feel that trepidation. This was crazy. To abandon perhaps the only safe transport off this place, to run off. But at the same time, it was exhilarating. The primal adrenaline which had driven him back on Tatooine now pulsed through his veins. Was this that spirit of adventure Crick talked about? If so, he could get real used to this.

The wave now dissipated, leaving the corridor in ruin. Toolboxes were strewn across, spilling their innards across the cold durasteel floor. Crates filled with food, illicit goods now were trampled, and crushed beneath the stampede. It was then, Five began to hear the opening up of fire. Multiple hostiles, or at least people with weapons, tracking forward. Five reached for his pistol, some piece of junk he'd managed to barter off of a jawa, and crept forward toward the din. His body pressed up and against a wall.

Now the noise of battle became more, pronounced. Screams now began to echo through the spaceport as blaster bolts made their mark. Whoever these guys were, they had to be packing some heavy artillery. And they were on the approach to boot. The sounds seemed to get louder, as did the screams. Five then realised his mistake. He'd been caught in a warzone. He had, as smart as he thought his play was to find some new ride, he had wandered toward the front line.

Now, the first wave of retreating defenders began to come into view. It was a calculated risk, but given they were on the retreat? It was an easy play. Two blasts were levelled toward the group.


And they missed. Hideously. The recoil of the pistol strained his arm, and Five almost felt like he was going to lose it. A hefty grunt followed, before Five then turned, and dove into a droid maintenance alcove. He closed his eyes. Took deep breaths, and readied himself to try again.
 
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The Spaceport POV
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Allies: The Family, Civilians [member="Subject 5"], [member="Arnie Isaktalus"], [member="Atlas."], [member="Candez Stoon"], [member="Via Dolorosa"], [member="Strider Garon"], [member="Shaun Castanic"],
Enemies: Te Veman [member="Koda Fett"], [member="Bryce Americus"], [member="Tamara Wren"], [member="Vilaz Munin"], [member="Briika Munin"], [member="Preliat Mantis"]

The man at the radar saw unregistered blips on his radar. He attempted to use handshake protocols to find out whether it was friendly craft. Within seconds it was identified it wasn't. He hit the alarm button as claxtons went off alerting everyone within the spaceport and well as off world. From what he saw people were already on the move as craft got closer. He wished the heavies weren't offworld at the moment dealing with some problems in IP space.

The two guards of the ships heard the alarms watching as the pirates ran for weapons. "Well there goes our afternoon." As they readied themselves seeing a civilian running around they stopped him. "Sir either give us a hand or get out of here. We really don't need to many civilian deaths today or else the boss will reeducate us. Trust me when I say you don't wanna know."

Several guards were cut to pieces by the heavy repeater but one managed to get to a rocket launcher. "Come on don't jam, come on please don't jam." As he fired it at the ship the mando was in hoping to bring it down. The men and women at the airport were largely not equipped to deal with ships without the heavies present. He prayed it would hit or else they were done for.
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Vork's POV
Objective: find out what is happening
Equipment: Ghost Stealth Armour, Theia Glasses, Gravitas Series Boots, Technomancer Series Gloves
Weapons: Sunshot Pistol, LK Sweeper, Shiva Knife, first lightsabre, the lizard knights blade, IE-1 Grand Assault Rifle, IE-2 Guardian SMG

With me: @Jade Isara

Vorkaliin barass was at his HQ also know to many as The Lizards Keep. He was presently meeting with a new associate of his Jade. She seemed like a okay sort but while they were meeting an alarm went off. "Follow me." He would say bringing her into the Lizard's nest, she was only allowed in because of the possible direness of the situation.

As he got there he found out it was at one of his spaceports as he had also received a message from another capo on their way to assist. He would send a short reply "Thank you Shaun but you will be needed either at the space port or in space." He would then turn to the woman he had just brought on. "Come we travel to the spaceport."

It would not be long before they arrived using one of the many transports of vorks along with multiple numbers of his The Lizard Knights Men as well as some of his The Lizard Knights Snipers. Shame that he had to deploy his heavies elsewhere they could have ended the possible battle in a matter of hours. But nevertheless they would arrive and press back the hit and run squad.
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Location: Low Orbit, Noverskaa
Commanding a Neeran-class Raider Frigate
Allies: Te Veman, [member="Vilaz Munin"], [member="Koda Fett"], [member="Bryce Americus"], [member="Briika Munin"], [member="Preliat Mantis"] ; comm to [member="Tamara Wren"]
Enemies: The Family ([member="Candez Stoon"] | [member="Shaun Castanic"]) and others

THE BLACK HAND​

With his helmet's advanced HUD Rohak observed the numerous flowing datafeed coming from both the ship and the ground raiders. It was the Black Hand's first operation after [member="Ronan Vizsla"] had founded it. The crew and him were all still calibrating to the situation and to the ship itself but they were all, par for Rohak, dedicated to making their clan proud today so the spirit was incredibly high.

The frigate drifted positioning itself on the trajectory that was most used by departing flights. The crew were on alert and ready to utilize the vessel's numerous capabilities to disable any incoming ships and loot them should the occasion rise. Te Veman had been debriefed of the Black Hand's goal - no one comes in, no one comes out. Nothing new for a pirate but definitely something new for a man who had just become a captain. Rohak's experience as a captain began and ended when Capn. Ythra Berre was killed and he had to take the helm of the pirate crew succeeding in taking the crew off to safety from the Imperials.

Sometimes he wished he had Sab or Hira around. A wish he'd never voice to anyone.

:: Keep your wits about you, Tamara. :: His voice would crackle through Ronan's daughter's helmet. She had been a childhood friend before Rohak and his family left to the Unknown Regions seeking to hunt monsters for the Lords of the Fringe where the credits were good. For some reason, both Tamara and Hiron had remained as friends in his mind despite his aloof and cold nature. Perhaps there always remained a microscopic piece of childhood in one's heart for eternity. :: Getting killed on a backwater planet is no glory. ::

In essence, Rohak still remained more of a pirate than a Mandalorian.

So he hoped Munin, Fett and company would be capable enough to bring home a filthy bulk of precious loot.
 

Kur

Guest
K
Objective: Hold the Line​
Location: Spaceport​
Allies: The Family​
Enemies: Everyone else​



Interacting with: [member="Shaun Castanic"]​



Hal reclined calmly, eyes lazy, his sleek polished boots resting up on a table edge.

"Your turn, pretty boy."

Lowering his blue eyes with an effort, Hal looked at the humanoid opposite him. He offered a brief smirk, before throwing two cards onto the table. Sabacc was the game and Hal was doing very well at it. He hadn't even needed to cheat, which was saying something about his opponents. They were dockworkers and didn't seem to possess the more tactful methods of playing the game that came from high stakes matches, unlike the superbly tailored humanoid facing them.

"Oh no, looks like I win again," Hal said, disinterest showing on his face and in his voice. "You know, when I asked if someone around this port knew how to play Sabacc, I actually meant it? This has been a very, very dull affair, and I regret spending refueling time with you."

The dockworker huffed, throwing his cards down. He wanted to say a few choice words but also knew who the other man was.

"Yeah well, next time you're here, I'll make sure to call Ringo. He'll take you for everyth--"

Sudden alarms sounded in the distance, followed by muffled comm chatter and emergency calls. Hal's eyes closed for a moment, the eyeballs twitching beneath the lids, before he opened them again and stood with a sigh. He took the credits on the table, including his lucky card, before he stuffed them into his trench coat pockets and began stalking out of the dimly lit room.

"Raid, lads, might want to get back to it."

The automated door opened with a whoosh and Hal immediately found himself in the midst of organized panic. Security ran here and there, weapons emplacements fired outside the safety of the shielded spaceport hull, and civilians were doing whatever they did - namely flee or get in the way. Hal chewed his lip, scanning the hallway and deciding to head left. After several dozen meters, the humanoid ran into some familiar faces.

"Ahh... what's the play here, boss?" Hal asked as he observed the other man, noting his decidedly ornate and complex armor and weapons, smirking when Hal compared his own items in comparison. "Are we taking any alive? I wouldn't mind toying with a few of the raiders, keep them alive and talking after the dust settles. Or, kill them all, just as fun really. Your call."

Hal fell into step with Shaun and his lackeys, eyebrow raised as he regarded the others. They would probably die. Most lackeys did. Still, Hal kept an easy pace and simply followed with his hands behind his back and his coat hanging heavy around his legs, shimmering as the colors danced and played with the surrounding environment...
 
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Location: Docking Bay
Enemies: The Family l [member="Subject 5"] l [member="Hal"] l [member="Vorkaliin Barass"] l [member="Strider Garon"] l [member="Shaun Castanic"]
Allies: Te Veman l You know who you are

The ship behind Preliat Mantis took a rocket shot, exploding bits of metal and fire around the place. He wasn't too sure the extent of the damage, because his focus was on the fight ahead of him, not the damage behind him. He rolled behind a crate, presumably one used to hold some sort of deep-space equipment. Not fuel. He made sure he wasn't rolling behind a fuel container. That would be embarrassingly bad if he died like that.

He put the bipods down on his repeater, and stood up. The weapon in place, he turned his fires towards the Lizard Knights that came around. They were better trained, only one got cut down by his fires. The others took cover, rather quickly. Preliat stepped, turning the weapon with his body, towards a wimp with a pistol that took a wild shot near him. He fire at the cover the man was near, a droid alcove, intent on telling him to stay down.

He turned his weapon back to the Lizard Knights, intent on suppressing them while the rest of the Veman pushed into the spaceport and wrought havoc.
 
Location: Arriving in Orbit
Aboard the Salty Mynok
Allies: None in orbit
Enemies: [member="Rohak Vizsla"]

Candez nodded his head along to the music. The ship jolted as it arrived from hyperspace, and he barley felt it. So he kept to his blueprints, looking them all over. Scanning over them, looking for any faults as he usually did in his spare time. That or reading about guns on the holonet. What was new, what was hot lately, what was the best and what was the worst...He had yet to see his own weapons, but others still fascinated him on there. As he was about to kick back, he jumped when a voice came through intercom.

"Got an issue, Candez. Gonna wanna see it." Candez muttered to himself and collected the blueprints he had accidentally kicked off. As he headed out of the captain's quarters, he stood behind the two pilot seats. "What is it, Vel?" The Mon Cal looked over the scanner. For a ship of this type, one could say their crew was rather...under managed. She pointed something out, and he saw it. What was happening? Some blockade? "All right, crew. We got a situation on hand. A code...what was the code we agreed on?" "Orange." "A code orange. Thank you, Bob." The Togruta opened his mouth to argue that his name was never Bob but Candez was already heading away to prepare.
 

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