Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion The Frontier War: Iron Dawn | Mandalorian Enclave Dominion of Kaddak

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Alora Vizsla Aves Wren Kranak Vizsla Kranak Vizsla Shai Maji Shai Maji Vren Rook Vren Rook Tawnita Wren Tawnita Wren Thror Cal Vorn Thror Cal Vorn Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt Madlad Madlad Tae'l Vizsla Tae'l Vizsla

Thonn remained waiting and at the the ready. While shots had been fired and chaos unfurled, matters didn’t seem to be out of hand – yet. The walker lurched forth, firing volleys at those who were foolish enough to react to their offer with hostility. And so Thonn spun up the barrels of his Z-6 rotary repeater, while his eyes and HUD scanned the scene for those bantha fodder who had opted for death instead of prosperity. Finding targets didn’t take long. Three were cowering behind cover, and by the looks of it making attempt to get their bearings amidst the sudden carnage around them. There they remained in complete unawareness of Thonn, who aimed the spinning barrels of his rotary cannon squarely on them. A flurry of blaster fire erupted from the weapon, delivering death to those who had implicitly asked for it by rejecting Alora’s generous offer.

Such a violent display dispelled what inconspicuous the heavily armed Mandalorian might have had; enemy fire promptly followed it and tore into the buildings and pavement around him. It was Thonn’s turn to seek cover this time, using his HUD to give the area another scan and locate the position of further targets. He’d soon find them with Madlad plummeting on then from above; Thonn stayed his fire. He sure didn’t want to shoot an ally, and with the droid establishing control of the situation he had no further reason to shoot.

As he remained in position and ready to engage further enemies, a distress signal came through his comes. A vode had been pinned down by a tank, and needed immediate aid. Thonn, as always, had brought plenty of firepower. He wasn’t sure what answer he might have for a tank, but that was of lesser importance than answering the call. With a blast of his jetpack, he made his way towards Kranak’s position immediately. He could plan on the way; he needed to get there quickly first and foremost.

Reckless as his lack of preparation had been, he was at least correct on that count. The walker had followed, and was a very effective answer for how he could make entry and provide Kranak with his support. The war-vehicles weapons created a door out of an exterior wall with a blast, enabling his entry beneath it as it engaged the tank. Thonn spun up his rotary cannon with his feet planted firm in battle stance, anticipating what destruction the walker might bring upon the tank. Two flashes of light illuminated him as the particle beams blasted the tank, but glee would turn to disappointment when the tank remained there and seemingly unscathed.

But there were ground forces, and they were organizing quickly. Thonn didn’t have much choice than to hope the Walker would take out the tank for him – short of closing the distance and attaching an explosive charge to the tank, there wasn’t much he could do. And that would require getting past those very ground forces in the first place. He let loose a long, strafing burst of rapid blaster fire, sending some diving for cover while maiming and killing others. The tank make it’s retort, firing a shot that ended up hitting the shields and left the walker undamaged, but managed to cause it to stumble back and expose Thonn’s position.

Well, chit.

Now he was surrounded and open to enemy fire, which promptly came his way. A jet of flame shot from his jetpack as he launched himself upward, narrowly dodging a thrown contact grenade that shook the building with it’s explosion beneath him. The six barrels of his rotary cannon were still spinning, and blaster fire still erupting downwards at their foes. Return fire tore through the air around him with the occasional shot ricocheting off his beskar. An errant shot struck the side of his jetpack, shutting off one of the two jets and forcing a descent back towards the ground, albeit under control.

He at least managed to land somewhere that provided cover, but the enemy was advancing and with the failure to stop the tank, they were likely in high spirits. Not knowing what else to do, Thonn simply continued to fire while shots pelted him. Either he’d fight his way through, or earn the warriors death so many late vode before him had.

If he would, it would not be on this day.

The flash of lazer fire that followed shook the tank, and it made it’s prompt retreat. Without the support of it, those troops engaging him in battle too opted to fall back. No longer pinned down by enemy fire, Thonn stepped forth from his position, his beskar singed with pockmarks. The spent energy pack from his rotary cannon was ejected and fell to the ground with a clatter before he popped a new one in, picking up the spent pack soon after. It still had some juice left, and he wasn’t about to jettison perfectly good ammo when there were so many enemies present.

He’d heard the order Shai gave; and he’d not hesitate to move forth in the direction his vode needed him. With his rotary cannon fully reloaded, he spun the barrels up again as he moved forth, this time on foot, towards his foe. Once he’d found another suitable position to fire from he did just that, and a storm of blaster fire fell upon the regrouped thugs.
 


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LOCATION: Kaddak
Equipment: Cybernetics | Jet Pack | Beskar’gam | Weapon load out | The Echoy’la Sun
Allies: [ Ket Cros Ket Cros ] [ Faison Kelborn Faison Kelborn ] [ Obran Obran ]
Engaged with: NPC the Quarren Goddamoku Boogaloo and his forces. (Lvl 60)

Obran’s grin was telegraphed through the precise inclination of his head, the energy in his stance. What Jhira was unsure of was if the grin was for the glories of battle, or his simple amusement at the thought of turning down a Rebreather. Smooth, deadly; Jhira could move forward at speed with him covering her. Though it was fun to watch him through her HUD; she always admired excellence. His answer came as battle died down, and her own laugh ghosted out to meet his refusal.

The skill with which he looted the bodies earned a nod of approval. “Indeed; I am in favor of anything that gets us in and out faster. ” The bard gave a bow of the head, ceding conversation with the unknown Vod to her. A nod acknowledged his choice, and she turned her attention towards the ghost ahead of them.

As conversations went, Jhira had had more informative ones. The ghosted whispered ahead without synching Tac Comps or HUDs, neither offering a name nor Call Sign. On COMMs she told her team, ⌁ Designate unknown Vod as Call Sign Ghost. Try to keep him alive; he’s got that look about him.

They’d know the one. The one where nothing at all mattered but personally taking some dikut out. The one that too often led to double funerals, not an appropriately celebrated vengeance. Blaster fire was nearly as good as. Synced system; her sensors could track it, allowing her to avoid shooting her erstwhile ally. By the time she and Obran had rounded the corner and cleared the room, he was rubbing a Kerchief across bloodied visor.

“Clan Kelborn lives; I had feared all were lost. An honor to meet you, Faison Kelborn. I’m Captain Jhira Mereel, Call Sign Falcon-1,” A grin flashed, as could be heard in her voice, given that the Falcon was very nearly his Clan Sigil. “Can your HUD sync up with the Enclave or Breshig tech? I’ve got an excellent tactical suite on board.” One that could share and integrate data for up to 20 squad members and 30 foes.

The sigil of the True Mandalorians was blazoned across the front of her armor; the Canons of Honor immortalized on one pauldron, Clan Mereel’s badge with a scroll affixed upon the other. Sleek, custom jet pack adorned her back, and a small squads’ worth of weaponry.

She nodded her head at the traditionalist with the spear, “If quiet is what you are after, Obran is deadly with his spear. My own skills lie in other areas. Blowing things up, Aerial Combat.”

Ket’s quiet, competent presence was greeted with a warm, “Archangel, good to see you. Bring any tanks this time?”

Assuming Kelborn’s gear would permit, Jhira would upload the pertinent data to him - from targets to passcodes. “Our priority is taking Boogaloo out,” Almost she asked why he was here, but Clan Kelborn had earned its fearsome reputation for reason.
 
LOCATION: Kaddak
Equipment: Spear. Armor. Pew-Pew.
Allies: [ @Ket Cross ] [ Faison Kelborn Faison Kelborn ] [ Jhira Mereel Jhira Mereel ]
Engaged: NPC the Quarren Goddamoku Boogaloo and his forces. (Lvl 60)

The look. Obran had seen it. Hells, he mighta worn it. Without a word he marked Faison on his HUD. The possible last of a Clan, out for vengeance and fame. Now THERE was a story and song begging to be heard. Eagerness spurred his steps as he followed behind Jhira, spear at cross-ready and pistol holstered. Oddly, the big man was as quiet as a stalking panther, and forward he crept, still shadowing his chosen "leader". Marks like the Canons and Mereel and the True Mandalorians said he'd need to get her alone and figure out her story too.

Manda be praised, but he may have just found something to sing about when all of this was over. A wordless tune hummed out of his mouth as the green and brown armored mando moved, occasional glints of bronze and polished bone showing. None would ever mistake his armor, even though it was less worn because earned or for anything other than it being given to him because nothing else would fit his head helmet-wise, at the time of his verd'goten.

"Oya... Let's hunt the bastard...."
 
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Just when they had everything under control the droid arrived. It caused the Sith's smile to wilt ever so slightly and a roll of her golden eyes over toward where it had dropped in on the gathering. That the atomiton had captured the ring leader and coerced them to survival would no doubt bolster its ego. Just what the galaxy needed.

Zlova crossed her arms before her eyes shifted over toward Odasha. "Don't get distracted by the theatrics. You held your own. Never forget it." Sure, what the woman had done wasn't anything special or particularly noteworthy from a strategic point of view. Not everything needed to be objectively mind-blowing to be consequential. The Spiremaster lived and seemed to have learned self-reliance was empowering. Good. Perhaps these people weren't a waste of time after all.

Oh, yes, they looked like a complete waste of resources when they first arrived. Utterly worthless. Cowering in the shadows hoping the criminals wouldn't get them. Now? Well, now they had a chance to reinvent themselves. If they failed, they would fall back into being less than trash in Zlova's eyes. If they succeeded, however, they might amount to something worthwhile. It would probably take a generation or two, but even a Sith could hope.

"Hold on to that," Zlova nodded at the crystal dagger. "A trophy." The Twi'lek leaned in, but didn't really lower her voice, and added, "You don't always take trophies for every victory, but the ones that mark a turning point in planetary affairs? No one will mind. You can even display it over the podium if you like as a reminder of your own role in reclaiming your world -- I won't hold the generous sentiment against you." Of course, if a Sith displayed a knife for all to see it meant something entirely different. These people didn't need to know that, but if that's where the Spiremaster took it Zlova wouldn't hold that against her either. Their world, their government, their choice, right?

Tag: NPC NPC | Talohn Atar Talohn Atar | Mia Mereel Mia Mereel | Romul Saxon Romul Saxon | Leea Pandac Leea Pandac | Madlad Madlad
 
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He watches all of the foes flee, eyes darting around the room for anymore hostiles. Once it seemed safe, the cathar one smile to leea, giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Nice throw." He compliments before he makes his way back to the spot where the podium used to be. He then claps his hands to get their attention, a deep breath being taken as he attempts to regain his composure. "Allllright. I apologize for that disruption. I....sorta lost my cool there. But don't we all in the face of family being endangered?" He questions rhetorically, moving on quickly after. "Now. Since a Certain Someone cannot be trusted to act like an adult, he will be given a timeout spot for the rest of the meeting so he can no longer cause any trouble."

After Talohn makes that statement, Madlad pulls the old man into a headlock, limbs locking into place to make it inescapable. It's not tight enough to restrict airflow, but he certainly won't be going anywhere. Not to mention it establishes an ongoing threat to any conspirators pondering the idea of making a move on his behalf. Talohn didn't want to make such a show of force, no matter how minor, but it was necessary to prevent any further escalations. Plus it publicly humiliated him, which was a subtle way of Talohn getting back at the man for threatening the people he considers family. "Now..." Talohn clasps his fingers together. "Where were we? Oh, right. I think you can make assumptions about our attitude towards force users these days. There will be no purges." He confirms.

"As for what else you said. You want a space station, yeah? We can do that. It's only reasonable." He taps on his wristpad a few times, and the map of the galaxy that was previously being projected is replaced by a space station schematic. "Will this suffice?" The cathar questions, eyes drifting about to guage the council's opinion on the matter. His gaze pauses on the togruta council member. "Nice job not getting stabbed."

NPC NPC Zlova Rue Zlova Rue Mia Mereel Mia Mereel Leea Pandac Leea Pandac Romul Saxon Romul Saxon
 

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OBJECTIVE: Gaddamoku Boogaloo
TAG: Jhira Mereel Jhira Mereel Obran Obran Ket Cros Ket Cros

Mereel? The name wrang a bell in Faison's memory, although it meant little to him as he had been so uninvolved in Mandalorian politics. But by the look of the pair, it was clear they could take care of themselves as any self respecting Mando'ade should be able to. Faison could definitely find worse compatriots, but was mildly glad he didn't have to.

"Yes, it can" Faison replied.

'Because it's also Enclave tech.' He added internally. Although the cat was very likely out of the bag, he'd hold on to as much anonymity as to exactly why he was here in the first place for as long as possible. Granted, they had his name now - and he imagined it would be all too easy to confirm his membership within the Enclave at this point. Hopefully, they wouldn't ask too many questions. Because he didn't have any altruistic intentions for Gaddamoku.

No... far from it.

Faison turned to the door and activated his thermal sensors again. Half a dozen other guards remained scattered throughout the club, with one figure off by himself on the other side of the building. After tapping a few commands into his wrist-mounted interface, accepting the comm synchronization request from Jhira, his voice grumbled over the frequency:
"It appears there's a lone figure near the back of the building. If memory serves, that would be the rough location of his office. We should come from multiple angles to prevent his escape."

'Kark...'
Faison cursed mentally. 'If memory serves?' How obvious did he need to be? He decided to skim past it and ready himself. If the other two had any indication at all that osik was about to get real, it would confirmed when Faison met the pair's eyes/visors one more time before proceeding to the door. As he reached for the handle, he looked back and said: "He's mine."

At that, he opened the door. As silently as a stalking predator, he turned to the right down the corridor where a guard's back was facing him, the guard himself slowly striding down in a relaxed patrol. The only noise the guard would hear would be the slight sound of Faison's retractable blade extending from his left gauntlet. Before he had any time to react, a piercing pain would shiver through his body as the knife pushed through his collarbone. A gurgle escaped, followed by a plop down to the floor.

The corridor would soon open up to the main room of the club, where the remaining guards stood around - some carrying boxes to the back, while others milled about lazily. Faison waited, 'clicking' over the comm frequency to indicate he was ready. Once he received the confirmation from the others that they were also ready, he would throw a flashbang grenade into the room.

Moments after hitting the ground, the grenade would erupt in a flash of bright light. Almost immediately after, Faison pulled the second pistol at his waist into his hand, and let loose with the pair of weapons at the now vulnerable guards. Two immediately stopped moving as they writhed on the ground, blaster bolts impacting against lightly protected flesh as the incarnation of Clan Kelborn's fury unleashed his vengeance. As he fired, he would rush across the open area to make his way closer to Gaddamoku's office. After taking a glancing hit to his right shoulder pauldron however, he paused to take brief cover behind an upturned table, also taking a brief pause to check on the status of his newfound 'team' before proceeding further.



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The Merc quietly chuckled under his helmet before responding in kind. "Unfortunately no... Bring any more gravity belts that saved your rear when it mattered?" They really did get off easy on that mission. Someone should have been killed with all of those pirates but the Mando task force either had more firepower that could be brought to bear or the surprise really did make all the difference. Either way, he wasn't complaining when Faison said that his target was his collar. Less to worry about and He didn't have to do all the dirty work in torturing the bastard afterward.

And it looked like this mission was getting underway. He knew only a little about Clan Kelborn, the usual sob story of a decimated clan but it was time to right that wrong. The hired gun was clearly thinking the same thing as he stalked down the corridor. The lightfooted merc followed behind, verpine pistol at the ready. His rifle wasn't meant for close quarters so his verp would have to do.

The Kelborn's work was clearly impressive as he took out one lax guard with his gauntlet blade before moving on. He had experience as a killer, that was clear to see. Ket clicked back that he was ready and soon enough, a massive flash hit his visor. Well, it was now or never. The Strill quickly started firing off his LRH-5A in support of the lone gunman, hitting some of the guards Faison hadn't dealt with yet in the quiet style he was known for. Now, this was a gunfight and as blaster shots bounced all around the merc, he thought there was no better spot where he wanted to be. As he took cover behind a wall and reloaded, he only hoped the other members of the group could stay alive to say the same thing.

Jhira Mereel Jhira Mereel Faison Kelborn Faison Kelborn Obran Obran
 

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