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AMBUSH. The Mandalorian Enclave’s expansion into Wild Space had sent the various criminal factions of the Frontier into retreat. Victories at Kaddak, Lyran IV, and V’Shar had all dealt serious blows against pirate captains, crime lords, and other scum and villainy.
But in their confidence, the Mandalorian Enclave had sent the bulk of its forces north to liberate the world of Krownest with the New Imperial Order from a Sith-Imperial Remnant. And with their borders undefended, the scum of the Frontier had seized their opportunity to strike.
Over the city of New Krostport, Hefi, there had been no warning when the first pirate fleets reverted from hyperspace; but soon, the capital of the Mandalorian Enclave was under siege. Their forces were too far away to be recalled in time, and if the city was taken, a greater secret was at risk: the discovery of the Enclave’s true capital, the secret Mandalorian world of Kestri. If that secret was revealed to the galaxy, then the new Mandalorian homeworld would be vulnerable. And that could not be allowed.
Desperate, a distress signal was sent out to all corners of space, begging for assistance before it was too late.
Objective I | A Ring of Spears Orbit, Hefi
Pirate forces have established a blockade around the planet. Assault their ships and fight back to break the blockade and re-establish orbital supremacy over Hefi.
Objective II| Against the Wall New Krostport, Hefi
Criminal forces fight in the streets of New Krostport, the faux capital of the Mandalorian Enclave. Fight them back and defend New Krostport and its secret.
Objective III | BYOO
Whatever stories across Hefi or R-Duba that intrigue you.
In this galaxy, there are few consistency's. Governments rise and fall, Force users switch sides constantly, and who is allied with another is like a revolving door. All these things and more change constantly, never stopping, never slowing. Despite this ever revolving tide of chaos, there is one thing that has always remained consistent, credits. Cold, hard credits make the galaxy go round. Governments rise and fall because of credits, people change their allegiances based on who can provide, and allies change based on who spends the most for others. With credits, there is another constant. Where money is to be made, there will be those making it, legally or not. In the case of the Krakens, usually through less legal means.
For generations, pirates and assorted scum had raided how they pleased, making a hefty profit if they played their cards right. That was, until the Enclave and their Mandalorians came, cutting deep into the profits of the Kraken Coalition and other pirates. This cut in profits was unacceptable, but they could do little to slow the tide. So they watched and waited, continuing to raid where possible, but careful to stay clear of the worst of the Enclaves forces. Inadvertently, this drew the Enclave away from their home, spreading their forces out, leaving home unprotected. Some had seen the opportunity and called to others. A message had made its way to the captains of the coalition.
"Members of the Kraken Coalition, hear me! It has been some time since we came together and we have profited this union. But there are others who seek to take this profit from us. The Enclave emerged, waging a war on crime, a war against us wonderful pirates. At first, it was amusing, for crime will exist so long as credits are to be had. Pirates shall always abound, so long as merchants sail the void! However, they have proven to be a nuisance, and they have cut too much into our profits. They have cost us many credits, making our operations on several planets all the more difficult. This is something we won't allow, not anymore!"
The sounds of orders echo out behind the speaker, even as they continue.
"Prep your ships and your crews, for soon we strike! We'll get our revenge and take everything not nailed down. Come my fellow pirates, soon we raid the blasted Enclave and their goody-two shoed Mandalorians. We shall raid them, for the credits and for the Coalition!"
Then it had ended, leaving the Krakens to prepare if they so chose. Time had passed and now the time to strike had come, the time to take back from those who had stolen so much.
"For the Kraken Coalition, take what you can and give nothing back!"
Objective 1: Lock down Hefi orbit and provide support to forces on the ground. Don’t let Mandalorians and their allies break the blockade. Hit and run or stand and fight, just keep them back.
Objective 2: Plunder the city of New Krosport. Deface their monuments, steal their valuables, and teach Mandalorians a lesson for interfering with the criminal frontier.
Objective III | BYOO
Whatever stories across Hefi, R-Duba, or Kerest that intrigue you.
The feeling of being where you have always been yet seemingly unfamiliar with your surroundings. The sounds, just a variation in the pitch and song that you have always heard, the smell a little more intense than you have known.
Verin sat in the command chair of the Grievous class Star Destroyer, having spent a good portion of his professional career at the helm of the Destroyers that served as the backbone to the Confederate Attack Lines. He felt the same flutter of anticipation as he looked down at the command deck, various droids and personnel wondering about, having only spent a short amount of time with the controls. They had run drills and tests on all manner of problems and scenarios, ensuring they would be able to combat any situation they found themselves in. Were they fully battle-hardened crew? Not so much. But they had zeal and energy and fight, fight in them that was tenfold the next man. For they were Mando’ade.
They fully intended to come along behind the blockading pirate forces, taking the element of some surprise and hoping it would be enough to carry the day. Long gone were the vast array of forces available to him. Not since Rhand.
"Make steady, try to keep them guessing what we'll do. I bet they weren't expecting us to be out here."
The alerts had caught them mid preparation, various space trials due to be held to further prepare the crews for prolonged combat. Verin was as proficient a naval commander as they came, perhaps second only to Vemric and, dare he say it, Kiff Brayde. He missed the young fool but was glad to have the wise and guiding hand of his former CO to assist in all things. A large portion of the available fleet of the Enclave was deployed over various worlds, far off fighting that would soon see them safe and secure from the raids of pirates that patrolled Wild Space. No such luck today.
‘Ensure all shields are fully operational, I want these interlopers dealt with as soon as possible. Prepare all fire stations and batteries for maximum ordnance.’
He looked down at the tactical display, keeping a keen eye on the unfolding situation. If they intended to bring in reinforcements, they would have to survive a wall of Roble’s finest and that was a task taken unenviably.
The small task force that sat above Hefi wasn’t fully complete, nor fully functional. But it would have to do. The collection of frigates, alongside the Grievous-class Deceptor were making headway, beginning to fan out and form as protective a line across the planet’s atmosphere as possible.
The Force. It cried to her. The girl paused midway in of her hotel room. She had been staying several days now in Hefi, the "capital" of The Mandalorian Enclave. She was trying to familiarize herself with the planet, despite her desire to remain on Kestri so much. Now, however, she just got this feeling. Was the Force warning her about something? About what? She looked down. Her red t-shirt and black pants really were not fit for danger. She did not even have socks and shoes on! The feeling was urgent, intense. She was so focused on training to become a Mandalorian, Gwyn was not at all paying attention to honing her Force skills, or Force Sense. Yet, the sense of danger was unmistakable.
She needed to gear up.
The girl turned from the hotel door and darted to her closet. Not even bothering with winter gear, something she was likely to regret later, she threw the door open. She pulled out her load bearing system and jacket, throwing them on as she further pulled out an armband with the Enclave symbol she had a habit of wearing. She had no beskar'gam, but she was desperate to visibly look Mandalorian. The Foundling tied the orange armband onto her upper arm and pushed more casual clothes aside, gazing at her weapons.
The girl took several weapons out and threw them onto her load bearing system. She also took her rifle out and flung it onto her shoulder. She yanked on fuzzy socks and tugged her jump boots on before she made for the exit. The Force was still ringing in her mind. She then took her suitcase holding her stronger, heavier sniper rifle and carried it along. She darted past the desk, swiping her one piece of Mandalorian armor, her buy'ce, and pulling it over her head as she darted from the hotel room, locking the door behind her.
She then took the stairs, dashing up to the top floor. If she made it to the rooftop of the hotel, she could get a good vantage point of the town below, and figure out why she was feeling this way. What dangers lurked in a proud city like New Krosport for the Force to wave its hands shouting at her?
Objective: Unknown
Location: Clueless
Allies: Krakens
Enemies: The Locals. .. What do you mean Mandalorians!?
He was just filled with confusion. The job had been simple, or so he was told. Hit this.. Hefi planet, steal some things, and leave. Nothing new, nothing special. Just pirates being pirates. But this wasn't just some random world. It took him a moment to realize just what was going on. This wasn't a simple smash and grab. These were damn Mandalorians! "Who the hell decided this was a good idea!?"
Xyoz roared out his frustration, though that was met with a quick hail of bullets as some Mandalorians noticed him. He gritted his teeth and hid behind some cover. The bag of goodies he had was pretty quickly left behind. Now was the time to get the kark out of here. Especially if.. Oh god, hopefully Shai Maji
wouldn't find out.
Sam stared up at the ships hanging in orbit before several explosions and blaster fire echoed from the distance. "Jenn, you are not gonna believe this, but I think Hefi is getting attacked!" She called out with her eyes still glued to the skies. Jenn was somewhere in the shop, she guessed by the forge in the back. Ever since they got the forge, Jenn's presence in the rest of the shop dropped quite a bit. She had a feeling that the girl was going to enjoy it way too much. At least she still helped out with the rest of the business.
Sighing, Sam turned and tossed the wrench she was holding onto a table as she made her way to the office space next to the workshop. The carnage sounded like it was growing closer each passing second... she was not in the mood to fix up her shop after only getting it off the ground for a few weeks. They barely had a client base as it was. "I dunno about you, but I ain't in the mood to pay for damages already." She spoke up as she opened a file cabinet and tossed a bunch of folders onto the ground. Finally she found what she was looking for. Her two pistols, still neatly tucked into the leather shoulder holsters. "Streak broken all over again, can you believe it..." She grumbled, seemingly not phased at all by the attacks going on outside.
Calmly she checked her pistols and slipped the holsters over her arms and onto her shoulders. She was the polar opposite of being ready for an attack. With only shorts, boots and a tank top on, she couldn't afford to take a hit... not that she was planning on it. "Alright, let's go shoot some raiders." She sighed, drawing both pistols and casually locking the doors and safety gate outside once both of them were out. Already she could see a number of people spray-painting the walls of a building with bags full of stuff laying on the sidewalk.
A hard frown curled onto her features as she watched them for a few minutes. "Hey, kark off!" She roared, drawing their attention. In a fluent motion her pistols trained on them and golden bolts spat from the barrels of the Mandalorian weapons. She only realized afterwards that Jenn had never seen her WESTARs before. That might be a long story to tell...
Each word was punctuated by duel volleys from her newly purchased pistols, firing a flurry of shots that flew towards the marauders she had encountered in the remote pocket of the city she had been working in. The Mother Abbess was docked securely nearby and the works she was undertaking would take a little while longer, especially now since the city was under fire. Where had they come from? How had they entered the system without being detected? What were the higher-ups thinking?
She ducked as a slew of bolts embedded into the wall next to her, groaning loudly to herself as her levels of rage began to peak. She was insanely irate, incensed by the audacity of common pirates coming into Enclave territory, sovereign soil, and abusing the people there.
"It's an outrage!" She barked, kicking a marauder in the chest with her right leg, immediately presenting behind herself with her arms outstretched, firing two more blasts down the alleyway that contained her action. She could hear, through the assorted din of explosions and gunfire, a loud voice, almost as irate as her own.
Such colourful language. It was music to her ears. She grinned, increasing her pace and straddling a street corner in the workshop district she had found herself in when the assault began. It was a female, who looked relatively outraged by the interlopers. Tee remained hidden, staying out of sight of the woman.
Tee clicked her intercom and messaged Vren Rook
"Vren, sweetie...where the kark are you?"
Ever since she managed to convince Sam to allow her to establish a forge in her shop, the Mandalorian spent most of her days learning the ancient and noble art of her forefathers... though one might call ''learning'' a generous word for her succession of failures at first. The secrecy her people shrouded themselves in irritated her for the first time in years- the only way for her to learn the intricacies of the process would be to find someone possessing that knowledge and ask them, which was simply out of the question. She had to figure this out herself.
She was in the middle of a delicate mixing of alloys when Sam's voice pulled her from her task, the girl dropping the tongs and cursing loudly. Running up to her friend's side, she raised an eyebrow at the sight of the mechanic digging through a file cabinet. ''My thoughts exactly'', agreed the girl as she took her revolver in hand, following the proud owner of their own little slice of paradise outside. Even though she remained very much aware of how capable Sam could be, she could not help but clear her throat, tapping her hand against her shoulder. ''Sam. Try not to get shot? I'm the one wearing beskar'', pointed out the warrior.
Once they were outside, she took stock of the situation, watched her friend open up with her pair of blasters... and made a mental note to inquire as to how she acquired them at a better time. Preferably, a time when neither of them were about to step into danger! Then again, she had to admit that this was... a lot more fun than she thought it could be. No need to hold back against raiders- no need to control herself. So it was that she rested her palm against the hammer of the revolver... and slammed it back down for each shot she took at the group, firing in rapid succession.
Location: 6 hours at class 1.0 from Hefi near a rearming base. Objective: steal munitions, destroy base Allies: Isidor JusteeneDispara other pirates Enemies: PVE station, 2 corvettes and some fighters
The cloaked Midnight Kyber drifted lazily through the system towards the intended target, she would get close then drop an Interdiction mine to help catch her allies right by the station. The mandos, they underestimates the Kraken Coalition, thinking them fools, but after this, they would know that their gains were only in their own heads.
Who in their right mind would genuinely attack Hefi, sure, the primary Mandalorian fleet had left and was engaged elsewhere, but it was still a planet populated by a heavily armed and fierce warrior people, even local militia would make an attack of that sort much too costly, and the moment the mandos got reinforcements, they would be doomed. No, Cass Gemini had a much more practice target in mind.
Their ruse has worked though, the Mandalorians genuinely believed that the attack was on Hefi and due to them being stretched all ships had been recalled from more isolated locations such as this, to help clear the criminals off the world. Most of what they would find would be sensor ghosts and hired criminals convinced they were getting an easy score, while the cat was away. A couple of pirates, notably Xyoz Maji
Had headed to Hefi, he was probably a little too unpredictable for a mission such as this anyway, but was a terrifying opponent and the bloody swathe he could cut would only make the ruse more convincing.
So hear they were, 3 hours travel from Hefi with even a 0.5 hyperdrive, looking at a small military outpost, with only a pair of corvettes in a loose picket. It might not seem much, but it was a rearming station and was packed to the rafters with high value munitions and other goodies. It was a score worth hitting, even if they hadn't lured away its protectors. There was the matter of the corvettes and of course the base defences, but once the Kyber declared and then its allies dropped into the Interdiction field in perfect firing range. It would quickly be overcome. The Locke and Key software was prepared and ready to vent the atmosphere from the barracks, and Dex was ready to jam their communications, very second of jamming would only add to that 3 hour window before the mandalorians could return.
Now, had she remembered everything? Stealth fighters cloaked and flanking to draw of the stations own fighters, cyberware ready, guns charges, mine armed and coordinates sent to her allies? She must be missing something? Ah, that was it, she poured herself a large rum and toasted to the crew who did the same back to them. "Good hunting my friends" she shouted.
The ship continued to drift closer, so close that the station loomed large, her alpha strike needed to be from point blank range so she could knock out the shield Generators before they came on line.
3..2...1.... fire
her ship launched a fully volley of torpedoes while still cloaked then immediately launched the Interdiction mine and decloaked. All across the ship, guns sprang into life. The torpedoes barely had time to arm before the slammed into the shield bulb, blowing it apart in a shower of sparks that lit up the sky. Cass punched the engines and the Kyber accelerated, narrowly being missed by a barrage of defensive fire as they struggled to find a lock on such a close target. A squadron of 8 fighters were scrambles and headed toward her ship, but her own fighters would be able to intercept them.
Step 1 achieved, in seconds her allies should arrive from hyperspace, the Interdiction mine would pull them out somewhere within about 5km of their target and they could open fire. The sudden arrival would hopefully throw off the defenses and give them the upper hand.
Dex gave Cass a thumbs up as on the viewfinder air was seen rushing out of ports on one side of the station followed by numerous bodies. That was the internal defenders weakened too. Step 2 completed.
Kestri was home, but damn it could get cold there. So even though it was sometimes tedious to play Sheriff in New Krosport, it was at least nice weather 80% of the time.
Leaning back in a chair on the front porch of Ra'ntisr Captiol Building, he held his rifle in one hand as the butt rested on the floor while he watched the people come and go in front of the statehouse.
It was a lazy day. His helm was resting on the floor next to him while he chewed on a toothpick. Tee was somewhere shopping or whatever while he did his shift at the front door. This was the life. Woman off doing her own thing while he did his own thing while Siv Dragr
was over in New Imperial country holding himself hero. Everything was as it should be - except he lacked a lake, a fishing rod and cold one right now.
He might still be able to get away with cold one here, at least. Fishing will have to wait til later.
Some distant blaster fire reached his ears while a few people seemed a little distressed as they rushed into the square. A frown creased his brow and he reached down to grab his helmet before pulling it over his head and rising to his feet.
He had just hitched up his rifle under his arm when the bane of his existence, for better or worse, crackled in his ear.
"Well, darlin', I'm on my way to you. SO WHERE THE KARK ARE YOU?" he countered back as he made his way down the steps and in the general direction of the more industrial area where he had left her to do his rounds.
[/center]
Objective: Escape
Location: Clueless
Allies: Krakens
Enemies: Not the Mandos, man! Jenn Kryze
| Sam Sheridan
Shai was going to kick his ass. There was no doubt about it. How was he supposed to know they were raiding Mandalorians!? He just jumped on the damn transport cause he overheard them talking about raiding. Some place was defenseless or something. .. Alright future note, at least ask where they're going before ending up there. Mandalorians and Pirates were in the streets killing each other. Violence ensued.
And for once he didn't want to be violence. Violent. Bah, he hated basic.
He crept through the shadows, avoiding any direct confrontation. His crew wasn't here, so at least he didn't need to worry about keeping them alive. He just needed to find a ship and get out. That should be easy, right? He rounded a corner just as a hail of bullets was fired. Unfortunate for anyone caught in it. Like him. Bolt after bolt slammed into his torso and he dropped without much more, a heap of smoldering flesh.
Then groaned.
His body knitted itself back together as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. "Kark that sucks.." He mumbled mostly to himself. He raised a hand, several of the fingers still in the process of regrowing, to rub at the side of his head before shooting a glare at the one who'd shot him. Sure, he wasn't going to go out of his way to harm any of the Mandalorians, but he was going to defend himself.
"Oi! That karkin' hurts y'know! Don't karkin' do it again!" He growled in annoyance as he stared at the Mandalorian and.. Wait why was there someone without armor. Didn't they always have armor on or something?
Location: Hefi near a rearming base.
Objective: Steal, fight and then, destroy the base
Ship: Blood Lightning
Tag: Cass Gemini
| Dispara
The unmistakable crack of a ship exiting Hyperspace announced another ship had joined the raid, the Blood Lightning arrived a few clicks after the Kyber did at the same location.
Isidor wanted to hit the Capital but soon, decided against it, as it would be a lost cause. Cass the beautiful, beautiful Cass found another solution, that won't get them killed, or swatted aside by Bucket Headed Warriors. Turn a numerical disadvantage into a much better way of hitting the Enclave, right at their Munitions Station. This was pure utter genius.
The target loomed into view and, the Blood Lightning headed towards it. The Coalition will show them all that they are not to be trifled with, no, today they are going after the infrastructure. Why get tied up in a fight they can't win, when attacking something else was more up their alley? The Mandalorians were too thinly stretched as is with their own fight back on the Planet Hefi. That was fortunate for the Krakens as their previous run-in with them ended poorly.
Isidor and his crew prepared to engage the defences, as his hacker got to work making the defences inoperable, the Ubese ordered the warheads to be prepped and ready to launch on his signal. This was going to be fun, this is going to be messy but, he simply didn't care, he wanted to destroy things, people too if need be.
This raid involved no impossible fighting odds the last attempt proved to be a case of running away and getting shot at which was way too close for comfort. Anyway, that was then, this is now and the objective was clear; raid it for ammunition and munitions and then, blow it sky-high.
As soon as the defensive fighters launched, the swarm of his own fighters lept in to engage the enemy, it looked like a very angry maelstrom of Hornets in space. The fighters were at least for now, able to stall the enemy which left Lightning to concentrate on the north side of the station with a volley of laser fire. They concentrated on the main power points and defence positions so that they were no longer able to resist any attack and be plundered of anything useful.
The warheads were launched, hitting a Bomber that had come out to play. Which means that they are trying to scare them. No matter, Isidor liked a good fight, he loved plundering the places he strikes even more. The trick is to avoid the storage areas. They will be dealt with later on in the raid, but not yet, first, they needed to cripple the Station's Security, which is easy enough when several ships are helping you.
Nikita and Pyotr directed the firepower to the targeted areas with such cohesion that everyone knew where to aim. They will get a raise when all is done, everyone will. They earned it. They themselves were not without losses, one-tenth of his Fighter Squadron ended up destroyed during the dogfighting.
Location: Aboard the battlecruiser The Winter's Kiss, in orbit of Hefi
Since her return to the galaxy, Lahmia deWinter had taken to doing what she'd been good at -- laying claim to whatever she wanted and not caring who cried the loudest. This galaxy was too peaceful. It had put her entire crew on edge since their return with nothing to focus them. Piracy was something they knew well as every day of their existence in that far off realm had been nothing but. It was this galaxy's version of pure, unadulterated, no-holds-barred bid for survival; a sad, shallow form of it, really, but Lahmia would take what she could get so her crew didn't mutiny out of boredom.
The Rim was the choicest plunder because there were fewer navies roaming about screaming about their authority or whatever. Much fun as it would be to take on a coordinated fleet of ships, even the Winter's Kiss had its design limits. Part of the reason Lahmia hadn't sauntered off to join any number of war fronts in the galaxy. Sure, they loved fighting to the death, but it was too orderly -- whichever side you joined expected you to do what they said when they said it. If you didn't join a side then both of them would shoot you. Outside of the galaxy it had been a wild frenzy with very few people ever trusting one another enough to ally and present their backside to someone. Here, inside the galaxy, that was expected. Not a habit easy to break. Spent her 'unnaturally' long life trusting only herself and her crew.
So, you could imagine a Pirate Queen's response to a bunch of White Knights moving in on her turf.
"Mistress,"her First Mate called out, "vessels on approach."
Lahmia relaxed back into her throne situated in the center of the command deck, her green eyes peered down the length and out the panoramic windows of the bridge out into space and at the planet below. The Captain of the ship slowly swirled the wine in her goblet amidst news of their 'host' coming to great their unwelcome 'guests.' "Moe us within range of our Assault Launchers, and target their largest vessel."
"Advance! Prepare to broadside the enemy!" the First Mate crowed loudly to crack the crew into a flurry of motion. They paused to look back at the red woman in command. "And what of these other ships in orbit?"
Ah, yes, the other 'pirates' here to blockade the Mandalorians. Some of them were familiar, after all they'd chased after the Winter's Kiss when it became known Lahmia intended to 'pay her respects' to the people of Hefi. Some of them were not. Didn't matter either way; none of them had sworn loyalty or death to Lahmia. "Leave 'em. Should they so much as paint us, confound 'em." They weren't friends and they weren't enemies, but if they so much as accidentally targeted her ship they wouldn't live to make that mistake twice.
"Now then," Lahmia lifted the goblet to her lips to take a sip of the wine, "ope a channel."
Cradled atop the pads of her fingers, the Captain held it idly before her as the broadcast channel was opened. "This is the Pirate Queen Lahmia deWinter, Captain of the Winter's Kiss, and Sovereign of thy Souls; surrender thy vessels, thy persons, and thy orb or be dashed upon the folly of thy pride." Lahmia spoke in an older dialect of Basic, one centuries old, which she saw little need to change even since her return to the galaxy. She had polished it a bit to make her intentions better understood to the inhabitants of the realm, but as for 'blending in' that was not something Lahmia opted to do one wit. "Thou hast till I align to obliterate thou to decide."
Gwyn kicked the door open, holding a blaster at the ready with one hand and her rifle case with another. With haste, she darted to the edge of the rooftop. She kneeled down, using her buy'ce to scan the streets below. So far, little was to be seen. But she could hear through the comlink in her helmet that a sudden pirate invasion broke out. She frowned beneath her visor, grazing the streets for enemies as she pulled her rifle out. As she set it up, blaster fire rang out below.
From her perch, the half Arkanian finally arranged The Devastating Chill DC-02, a Charric sniper rifle, and aimed it below. In the prone position, she peered through her visor and-
Oh no. Jenn Kryze was here too.
Gwyn instantly sighed, hoping she and Jenn could fight on the same side today, despite their rivalry. Jenn had someone she fighting alongside her, a chic firing her pistols with no armor. Huh. A non-Vod or Foundling Jenn tolerated?
The two were chasing a pirate by the looks of it. He was fleeing with valuables and darting away from his pursuers. Unless this was Jenn's standard fighting anything and everything, that was a pirate.
Gwyn snickered, aiming for the animalistic alien. She was careful to study his movements, remain calm, as her buir had taught her. From her sniper's ledge, she had the element of surprise. She was steady, she aimed...
Waylon didn't travel much, but his business took him with the Clan proper, and so he was on Hefi, tapped as a Clan Elder to represent Mereel. He was strolling the street in battered and aged beskar'gam that had seen better days. Strapped to his thighs were a gleaming pair of custom DE-10's with kryt pearl handles and aurodium chasing and inlay, and cradled in the aging mercs hands was a bryar pistol as battered and old looking as he, his brown and yellow armor bearing scars of multitudes of wars.
Clipped to his belt was a helmet, and his cape concealed a bowie knife like beskad on his left side. As he walked, a karjr he had had pointed out as being Vren Rook
passed him, with a walk that spoke of being serious. A walk that Waylon knew meant death was following shortly. Blaster fire had reached his ears as well and the Old Timer fell into step with Vren easily despite a face that said he was decades past his prime. For a moment he didn't say anything, and merely tipped back a beskar flask engraved with a Galactic Republic symbol and Mando'a, a war trophy from long ago. Steel blue eyes radiated nothing but calm as he spoke.
"Lookin for company, stranger? Bet you the rest of this flask I can nail the first one"
Offer unaccepted, the old man let lose with the bryar in one hand as his lean and wiry form dipped and he spun, yanking the bowie free and sending it end over end into the throat of a pirate in an uppper story window who then slumped against a frame. Spitting a wad of tabacc from his mouth he clipped the heavy helmet on from his belt and a tinned voice spoke next.
"That one don't count, lost the knife. Damn thing was only a few years old too. Next one better be yours, or you owe me..."
And like that, the sole reinforcement became a duo, and Waylon followed beside Vren silently.
The thunderous voice split through the battlefield, through the screams and bloodhsed, through the clash of steel and beskar.
"Mandalorians! To Me!"
Romul Saxon cut a fiery path through the army of scum and villainy, a towering, oppressive figure in his red-and-gold beskar'gam. The Warmaster of the Enclave fought with a two-handed waraxe, cleaving through metal, flesh, and bone in mighty blows. Blasterfire and projectiles did no more than bounce off of the thick beskar plating belonging to the Darasuum Tracyinya, Eternal Flame, Champion of Clan Saxon.
A marauder rushed at him, a war cry bellowing from his lips as he thrust at Saxon with a half-length vibrosword. Romul parried easily with the staff of his axe, before swinging down his axe on the marauder, nearly splitting the warrior into two. HIs axe came away from the corpse in a spray of blood and gristle, staining against his beskar'gam, adding to the dirt, debris and blood that was beginning to cover the elaborate engravings on the plating adorning his lower body. His breath heaved heavy, but adrenaline and stim pumped through his veins, and his eyes only saw fury.
This was the glory of battle he had craved for so long, but it was not on the field of conquest or crusade. It was at home, defending the faux capital of the Enclave from ambush.
The Mandalorians had agreed to collaborate with the Imperials in ridding an old Mandalorian world of its Sith Imperial remnant and freeing the prison camp that remained there, drawing a significant portion of the Enclave's military halfway across the galaxy. Another large contingent had left with the Quartermaster to Bastion, to escort her to talks with the Emperor of the New Imperial Order. That had left Romul in charge of the Enclave's security, with little men and material to cover the vast swathes of territory now controlled by the nascent Mandalorian state.
And in their momentary weakness, the pirates and criminal scum that the Enclave had waged war against had found an opportunity to strike at the heart of the Enclave's bureaucracy. The forces of the Enclave in the north were still far away, engaged with their own enemy; no help would come from them until it was too late. Romul had sent a distress beacon out to all corners of the galaxy, but he had no way of knowing if anyone had been listening.
For all he knew, the Mandalorians were on their own. They would win here or die in defense of their home.
"Akaan'alor!" a voice called out beside him. Marching into the battlefield was Gallius Saxon, one of Romul's right-hand men, with a horde of Mandalorians behind him. They cut a large path through the mongrels, easily overruning the position that Romul and his own men had been fighting for. "I bring you a hundred good warriors from the western quarter, along with forty-two Si'kahya."
"Good," Romul rumbled, putting the butt of his axe's shaft into the ground to lean on its weight, resting for a moment. "What are the tidings of battle?"
Gallius stopped next to him, pulling out a holomap from a small projector on his pouch. "The Capitol and Bureaucratic Offices remain secure. The Kelita and Kyrimorut Districts are overrun, as is the spaceport. We have some resistance north of the spaceport, in the Varos District. Guavian Death Gang and Droid Gotra forces, as well as rabble from a thousand different syndicates, make up the bulk of the army."
Romul nodded, hefting his waraxe once more. "Then we join our vod in the Varos District. Par Mando'ade!"He cried to his host, lifting his waraxe above his head. Near two-hundred Mandalorians took up the cry with them as they began to charge through the horde.
Gwyneira VizslaXyoz MajiSam SheridanTawnita WrenJenn KryzeVren RookDarius MereelRomul Saxon
and any others New Krostport had become a scene of chaos, and it would be up to the Enclave to quell it. Thonn had flown into action the instant he received the distress signal, quickly donning his beskar'gam and preparing what he'd need. He'd even made sure his the flamethrower mounted to his wrist was loaded up too, figuring it could see some good use. The goal was to discourage this rebellion, and being set alight seemed really discouraging.
His Z-6 cannon was loaded with plenty of power packs carried with him to replenish the ammo-thirsty beast. Thonn held this third most important when heading out to fight:
Bring a big gun.
On his arrival, he mostly stuck to the alleys and side passages, avoiding the heavily travelled roads as best as he could. Not out of hesitancy for battle – he was itching to unleash a maelstrom of blaster fire on whichever pirate he could. But there was a strategic intent to it; placement and the element of surprise counted for a lot in these sort of engagements. It'd get in particular way of the second tenet he held:
Shoot first.
Further, to just strut in the open and advertise that there was heavy Mandalorian infantry roaming the streets would tip off the enemy and attract bad attention. Probably the explosive kind.
Weaving his way through the city, he soon found himself in the industrial sector. He wasn't alone here; his hud had picked up the signal of several allies. Closest by was Vren Rook, along with another vode Thonn hadn't met before.
"Hail Vren and vode. Name's Thonn Rokkal." He introduced himself brief as he could to Waylon Meerel whom he was about to meet.
"Showed up to help clean up the karkin' mess going on. Good to come across you two." he added as he moved in towards them. True sentiments, Vren was formidable and deadly; Thonn didn't doubt Waylon was too. Finding the pair would fulfill his final and most important tenet:
Pride. Fools wore it like a crown, while in reality it only put blinders on the mind's eye. Dispara was usually not the pensive type. But a pet peeve of the eccentric pirate witch was when the pride of others left a pile of bantha poodoo on her doorstep. The collective, independent 'scum' of the region had had their fill of the Enclave's self-righteous purge and thought to 'stick it to the armored man' by poking the big Mando nest on Hefi.
Well, Dispara had had a taste of those crusaders and decided Mandalorians were a fine folk, until they got some high and mighty ideal. Then they were a total pain in the ass. In reality, they were even more relentless and formidable when they had a righteous cause. Even the Ashlan Crusaders could be bargained with, if it suited their agenda. But Mando's with a banner to wave were the worst.
So, when some of those prideful buccaneers thought they could give the ole Enclave a black eye while the bulk of their forces were busy being someone else's pain in the ass, Cass Gemini
floated an alternative plan, one that Dispara found much more suited to piratey folks. Hit and run on Hefi's rearming base out-system. The main event for some of their peers would be the distracting decoy for the small band of corsairs that would hit the base and make off with Mando goodies. Xyoz, ever the adorable but clueless Shisty, was dropped planet side to cause mischief. There was also a chance Joycelyn Zambrano
might bring a warship to Hefi. And rumor had it that deWinter was back, with a hefty battle cruiser. Her dramatics would draw Mando's like a racy holo-movie.
Dispara sat in the captain's chair of the Witch's Boudoir, streaking through hyperspace. the modified pirate corvette had no cloaking device, so their typical ploy was for the cloaked Midnight Kyber to creep near a target, then drop on an interdiction mine that would literally pluck her comrades from hyperspace. It had taken some practice, but the Kraken team had it down. And so it went at the station where Cass had parked.
Dispara's corvette was jerked out of hyperspace. She was late, as usual, and already there was damage to the station, beams searing through the void of space, and starfighters zooming around.
The half-Sephi had intel on what awaited them. Her role was to help occupy the corvettes. "Jammers on, ion and turbolasers targeting the closest corvette, charge up the rail gun." The pointy-eared pirate captain barked. the Twi'lek First Mate Tyra, who had lost her arm in a tussle with the Enclave at Yammaro Station, employed her new cybernetic arm to activate the sensor jammers that would scramble the Witch's signal on enemy ships, then the blue Twi-lek manned the advanced tac shield controls. Micro-thrusters mounted along the corvette's hull fired in a alternating banks as they maneuvered the nimble ship in a darting course around the picket corvettes.
Rapid fire ion batteries and laser turrets opened fire on the nearest enemy ship as the Boudoir streaked past. "Comet gun charged." The Dug weapons master called out. "Punch them." Dispara smirked as the big rail gun swung around and began to pump a hail of giant metal slugs at the corvette.
The cheeky blonde pirate captain activated her comms on a shared channel with Cass and Isidor Justeene
. "Sorry, late again, I know." She offered in way of greeting. She gripped the arms of the chair as the beetle-like corvette careened around the stern of the first corvette, its defensive lasers rippling along the Boudoir's shielded hull.
"I mean, jeeze. All this damn fighting! I didn't even know where I wa-" Midrant he stopped complaining about the circumstances in which he ended up on this world as his skull exploded. He dropped like a sack of meat, again, laying still on the road as blood oozed from where his head should of been. Only for a moment, though. His skull rapidly reformed, muscle overtook it. Skin, fur, all of it healing at an impossible rate. With a groan the Sangnir pushed himself to his feet again, shaking his head rapidly.
"Do you know how much of a karking headache that gives!? Stop karking shooting me damnit!" Grant it, he wasn't talking to the two in front of him. With disturbingly accuracy he pointed towards where Gwyneira was perched, his orange eyes narrowed in annoyance. "I will kill you all if you don't get out of my karking way."
More hospitable than Hoth, but still cold. Blistering winds did not hold back as they cut like knives through Iuuna's jacket. The young woman had traveled alone to Kerest having escaped her tutors and the knights assigned to her. The niece of Exarch Srina Talon
hadn't meant to go this far from home, and yet, there among the wintery landscape of barren wastes. Iuuna Talon wandered, her figure huddled into the jacket that hadn't been meant for temperatures such as the ones Kerest often boasted. Something out here called to the Echani, the Force all but begged of her arrival there.
The snow kicked up into the wind as it howled through the mountains and sang through the endless skies above. Her ship was not too far off where a trail of footsteps could be seen as she continued to adventure further into winter's grasp. It had been a small, single-seated craft that had automated piloting enabled. Snow and ice followed in her wake dancing upon her silvery coatthe hood pulled up over her ears. Ahead lay the ancient ruins of the once lively Kerestian civilization its natives having reverted to primal instincts, watched as the newcomer trotted through their lands.
