The Maw's tactical brilliance had ranged from actual droning zombies to meticulous killers. In Waymar's small splinter of the battle, his opposition seemed far closer to the latter than the former. Only fitting. Not as if the Imperial Knight didn't revel in the challenge. One of the core beliefs espoused by Rurik Fel and the Imperial Knight was just that. To never stagnate, to always strive to be better. To always test one's mettle. Alas today would be another trial set in Waymar's path.
He had no choice but to face it with blade in hand and unbroken resilience in his heart. But all the same he was but the man in the arena of duracrete, steel and ash around him. But not alone, not at all. The stormtroopers surrounding him were perseverant souls all the same. They had to be. They were left with...a meager complement, not anything Waymar nor Vrask had been tooled to command. But this came from the privilege of coming into their own within an Empire that had matured past the days of the dogged assaults on Harnaidan, led by Irveric Tavlar at the front, outnumbered, outgunned, all but a whelpling rebellion ready to be put down like spring refuse. No- Waymar and the others had come up in the Empire with its best foot forward, gaining the advantage over the Sith and writing in the stars its own destiny. They needed to act as those they came before them did.
Air, armor, artillery or orbital supports were pipe dreams here. Quick deployable mortars and repeater positions were all but a luxury for impoverished men. But this is where leadership showed in its truest colors. Immediately, the errant advantage they possessed was snuffed away as these Maw troopers immediately clung to one of the most vital rules of combat.
Cover and move.
Smoke screened their movements, making a pin of any mortar fire mission wishful thinking and making a close confrontation on the ground an even greater calamity as it could very easily flush them into a situation which bred miscommunication and even worse, a possible blue on blue or blue on green. To add unto it- the civvies were not far from the field. The Maw were not the New Imperials who would offer the gentlemanly courtesy of warning a world under the threat of invasion before star destroyers ever appeared in orbit, a necessary evil (or perhaps 'good') that prevented the now defunct 'ORDIS' from smearing the image of the New Imperials in streaks of the blood of innocents.
The Maw had no moral code, only the bloodlust for chaos and destruction.
They were closing the gap, clinging to the walls of the surrounding buildings to erase the advantage of overwatch they had from Vandal Squad.
Waymar's immediate observations became clear when smoke popped and enveloped the area only to be reaffirmed by the man himself.
<"We're blind from up here, our mortars can't get the angle on them, Knight. They're closing the gap on us and popping smoke to conceal their movements."> The Storm Commando stated, clear disdain for the situation in his voice all but scouring the battlefield through the scope of his sniper to pick up Maw stragglers. He hardly knew what he was shooting at, only that he was pulling the trigger and silhouettes were falling in their limp dance to the floor.
Whatever unit they disposed to distract the sniper positions was well enough fulfilling its task as the Storm Commando Sharpshooters set on them like Msqitos to bare skin.
<"Understood."> Waymar replied, clutching the hilt of his argent blade as he peered down the street to see the forward section of heavy metal Maw troopers moving toward the building.
The nearby stormtroopers had already flicked to their thermal vision, notated by a distinct purple reflective sheen that came over their thin eye slits.
<"Post up a repeater here and lay a beaten zone on the corner of that building, they aren't leaving that street."> Waymar ordered, gesturing to a blown out window.
<"Aurek, hold up here- cover for the medics and wounded- lay the punishment on em. Delta, on me. We're moving to envelop."> He commanded, making way from the base floor of the building before he peeled around the opposite direction, away and around the tower in the hopes of snatching the advantage of this forward unit.
The savage drumming of crimson repeater rounds began to sound from their original position as Waymar led the troopers around, disengaged saber clutched tightly in his right hand. Reaching the corner of the tower, he craned his neck to look around it before peeling back around.
There they were. He grasped a thermal imploder from his belt before motioning down the line to follow his lead. He turned to toss it in the direction of Ozma's unit as two troopers stepped out into the open, laying automatic fire in their direction and the rest of the unit took to filling the open street between that building and the next, taking cover where they could find it. Burnt out speeders, urban rubble or freshly made dead. Didn't matter.
Then Waymar properly joined the fray, the smooth hiss of his argent blade coming to life calling all eyes to the Imperial Knight before he cast his ethereal line into the opposing unit to wrench one toward him, immediately moving to impale the Maw marauder on his silver blade to create a gruesome meat shield.
Atlas Drake
Ikenna Tahj
