Mission Thieves Landing [Open to Iron Cov. & Galactic UW]

[Kjartan Hammer-Hand]

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For centuries, The Outer Rim was widely considered to be a hive of scum and villainy. Yet at its height, The Enclave brought stability and safety to the region - putting to rights the lawless stretches of space while standing in defense of those who could not stand for themselves. Yet with The Enclave’s collapse came a return to anarchy. Within this chaos, piracy and strife arose anew - forcing those who called the region their home to fend for themselves in a desperate bid for survival.

A major focal point of this woe is a pirate haven built into a marooned asteroid in the dead of space. It has been known by a variety of names depending on who you ask - “The Rock”, “Thieves’ Landing”, “The Pirate’s Moon”; yet regardless of what you call it, this base has been a blight upon the sector for nearly a decade. Strategically nestled within striking distance of Hefi, Garroba Prime, and Tao - millions of credits have bled through the pockets of shipping concerns and planetary governments alike. Should this threat be eliminated... it would stand to reason that those same entities would be eternally grateful for the assistance, with such brave souls also standing to gain a tidy sum of credits and material in the process.

Through the efforts of the Nynir'kad, and those who led ‘less than savory’ lives after the fall of the Enclave - the Iron Covenant has procured the location of this station. Perhaps it's time for them to deliver their own brand of order - forged in beskar and fire.

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OBJECTIVE I - SCUM AND VILLAINY

Although this “Pirate’s Moon” is a well kept secret from what heavily strained law enforcement exists in this region, it is a very well known haven amongst those who have need of it - and those with the right connections. Infiltrate the station using whatever covert means possible; posing as a gun for hire, a seedy merchant, or a boisterous pirate looking for respite - and when the order is given, take control of the station’s command centers through whatever means possible.

Give no quarter.

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OBJECTIVE II - THE DREAD HORIZON


Anchored alongside the station is a massive ship - a stolen star destroyer of unknown make given the extensive retrofits and modifications she’s undergone. While her original make and model is a mystery - her name is not. “The Dread Horizon” is a famed ship, reported to be directly responsible for the loss of countless merchantmen throughout the hyperlanes of the Outer Rim over the past decade, only to disappear from use over the last few years. Yet the reason has soon become obvious, as she now stands guardian over the haven.

Board the vessel, execute the crew for their acts of savagery, and claim her for the Iron Covenant.

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[Romul Saxon]

F L A M E W A R D
Wild Space​

Tags: Celt Saxon | Kamon Hourn | Carduul Akahl | OPEN

A quiet fury simmered in Romul Saxon.

He remembered bringing peace and order to the Outer Rim. Many Mandalorians had died fighting against the lawlessness that always gnawed at Wild Space. Yet these systems had rejected their Mandalorian protectors, spat on them, in favor of what? The Jedi, the Sith, even the cowards who had fled from the Enclave, they had all forgotten these peoples.

Romul harbored no love towards them nor felt an obligation to defend them. But his sense of justice was based on honor and debt. To him, the Outer Rim worlds were indebted to Mandalorian sacrifice. Now, he simply did not care to deepen their credit, but for the benefit of the Iron Covenant.

From the bridge of the Gra'tua Dral, Romul's flagship, he watched as the infamous Dread Horizon, once terror of the outer rim, drifted listlessly, rendered immobilized by the overwhelming firepower of the Mandalorian warship. Romul did not smile; his brow furrowed, the skin around his jaw tense, his lips turned downward in a brooding frown. His patience was nonexistent today. "Prepare boarding teams. No quarter will be given. Spare those only who might divulge information useful to the Mando'ade." He commanded.

He hefted his war hammer. "Gallius, you have command of the ship." He turned to the Alor'ad. "Inform Cel that I will join the boarding party." Today, the Iron Covenant would proceed unimpeded.

 

[Tal Kaja]

Tag: Open

Earlier…​

Inside a derelict cell onboard the same vessel about to be stormed, sat a young humanoid of hybrid features. He was cuffed with binders on his hands as he sat with his back to the door. His intense brown eyes stared down at the filth ridden floor. A womp rat scurrying from the opposite side to a hole at another point, screeching at him. It had been several rotations since being captured and the young man gritted his teeth in both anger and shame.

The hum of the ship echoed outside, reminding him of this humiliation. Squeezing his hands into fists for several seconds he at last let go. He spat some blood to the side, minutes ago, some of the raiders had worked him over. Supposedly it was to beat information out of him, but he suspected they were just getting their kicks out of beating a restrained Mandalorian. Their laughter and taunts stung more than the actual beating itself. He hung his head even lower, thinking how the scum have his armor and weapons.

Subsequently his despair soon turned into determination. I have to get out of here…somehow. Tal Kaja thought. There was so much at stake. His home was under siege, his clan fighting for their lives even as he rots away in here. Tal turned his head up to the door behind him.

Sitting here and pitying myself is not going to get back my armor, my honor. Nor save my kin.

With that in mind he began to force himself, grunting in pain. Fighting through the torment he got to his feet. Just then the entire ship shuddered and Tal was knocked to the floor, and winced. The shaking continued as if an earthquake and then he heard alarms going off, followed by panicked footsteps and cursing outside.

Just as he was about to ask himself what's going on, it suddenly occurred and he grinned savagely. "They're under attack," Tal whispered.

He can use this chaos.

Just as he was about to get up again when he noticed a metal shard just inches from his hands. The darkness in the room had been concealed from him until now. Without hesitation he seized the piece of metal and began to cut into the binders even as the bombardment raged on. He drew some blood in the effort but didn't care, freedom was near.

Don't know who it is, whatever they are friend or foe they just gave me the opening.

Present​

It took time especially with the constant rocking of the ships but Tal finally cut the binders off. Rubbing each of his hands the young hybrid then got up and readied himself for the next part. Having spent some time here he noticed the door lock was not efficiently fastened as it should be. He shook his head, murmuring, "They'll regret this, I'll make sure of it."

Tal proceeded to jam the shard into the lock, twisting and turning it for several more minutes as the bombardment died and the lights flickered off and turned off before going into emergency red. He stayed at it until finally the door hissed and slid open. Smiling in brief relief Tal forced himself to focus.

I'm not out of this yet.

Still griping the shard he looked back and forth in the corridor before stepping outside. He was about to make an exit from this section when a woman's voice shouted. "Hey let us out!" Alarmed at the sudden voice Tal twisted around seeing a tan Zabark female with brown hair looking at him from another cell.

For a moment he hesitated, considering taking his chances but the girl yelled at him.

"Hey don't think about it. We need each other. All of us."

"Us?" He asked before some prisoners showed their faces at their cells, clamoring and yell off to be freed. He looked around, fearing the pirates would hear but none came before he sighed, concluding. Greater strength in numbers. As if reading his mind the Zabark gestured to the left side; "Head for that console, it should unlock all the cell doors."

Seeing it he rushed over while being cheered on by the other captives. Just as he was about to reach a Klatoonian pirate armed with a vibrosword ran out of the corner and crashed into Tal. Desperate, Tal tackled the brigand to the ground and began stabbing him repeatedly as the pirate cried out in agony as he was bloodied by his attacker. With a final stab to the throat Tal ended him who gasped his last breath.

Breathing heavily Tal forced himself up and spat at the corpse before he began working on the console. It only took a minute before all the cell doors inside the vessel opened up. The other prisoners, including the Zabark lady. Some cried in joy or cheered before they heard screaming and shooting yards away. The pirates now know the prisoners are loose all over the ship.

Tossing the red stained shard aside Tal grabbed the dead pirate's sword then his blaster pistol and finally the commlink while the others looked on. Now armed he turned to them and said.

"Let's move!" He ran the opposite way, soon joined by most of the others. In the back of his mind he thought. Now I just need to get my armor and gear…

 

[V01D Ω (Void Omega)]

V01D Ω

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Void sat in the corner of the bar at the Thieves' Landing station, feet propped up on the table, sipping some whiskey. It was all part of the show. You went to a bar; you were expected to drink. Considering Void didn't have any kind of digestive system, alcohol would have no effect on him, but he could still hold it in the pouch that imitated his stomach. Flammable liquids could come in handy at times.

The three droid brains were busy scanning everything and chatting amongst themselves in the back of his mind. He simply ignored them and twirled a brass coin across his knuckles. He was rather bored. There was not really much going on lately. Nothing satisfactory, at least. He was an outlaw for fun, not because he needed money. He literally had zero upkeep to survive. But crime syndicates came and went. He supposed that was the nature of criminals. Eventually they either got caught or stabbed each other in the back.

Maybe something interesting would happen soon.

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TAGS: OPEN​

 

[Kjartan Hammer-Hand]

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OBJECTIVE 1: SCUM AND VILLAINY | ABOARD THIEVES LANDING STATION
TAG:
OPPS: V01D Ω (Void Omega) | [OPEN]
ALLIES: Signy Bralor | Vara Rasha | Yuri Maji​

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KJARTAN HAMMER-HAND​

THEME​

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At the outset of their stay aboard the Pirate’s Haven, Kjartan and company had set about drinking their fill the night before - engaging in all manner of merriment and revelry. Although Kjartan did curtail his usual debauchery, for two key reasons; the first being that his gods forsaken daughter stowed away aboard the freighter they arrived in (and he was not about to let her drink more than 2 cups of ale herself, hence why he couldn’t give way to more and become blind to her antics), and the second due to the fact they were here for a mission.

They had arrived in advance of the Iron Covenant's assault, to infiltrate and disable this station through any means necessary. Naturally, the Kjartan was an obvious choice to lead the team, given his status as an old pirate with connections on this trash heap. All they had to do what get moving, and make their way to the command center - all while maybe sowing some mayhem along the way.

Kjartan awoke and emerged from his lodging, activating the secure comm channel between him and the others. According to his chronometer, they only had an hour or so before things began to pop off. <“Team, report in.”> He began, uncharacteristically concise. He began making his way to the cantina as a sort of rally point.

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[Carduul Akahl]

Tags: Romul Saxon | Celt Saxon | Kamon Hourn | Tal Kaja | Open

Carduul never truly had much time to pay towards the Outer Rim, save for the few worlds that held an abundance in one resource or another. His attention had always been towards that of the Core Worlds and Mid-Rim, in securing a strong and prosperous future for the Mando’ade by fire. Still, he would’ve been remiss to not know of the efforts the Enclave went through to establish themselves as the guardians of the Outer Rim. Every small effort that they did to clear away all the blood that has been spilled, to try to prove to the galaxy that they were not bloodthirsty villains many saw them to be.

All of that had been wiped away in favor of others, now. As the galaxy continued its cycle, it was only the natural way of things. Chaos had taken root in its place. Freedom was a beautiful thing, that much Carduul believed…but there was a fine line between ‘freedom’ and lunacy. Piracy was something he had never come to tolerate- something that had to be harshly taught to many newfound subjects and Mando’ade during his time. Several that had come into his service had once been such participants—whether by coincidence or forsworn loyalties. This would serve well as a message that even after all that had transpired, their means were still capable of dealing with such a thing as this.

“We’re on approach vector now.” Spoke Garrus Bralor—once a Field Marshal amidst the Crusade, now merely another Mandalorian trying to do their part—in a heartened tone of voice. It had been some time since forces had been deployed in such an outing. It only brought all the more nostalgia for the Mandalorians still swearing to follow him through hell and back.

“I trust you have operations here well-in-hand, then.” Said the red-cloaked figure in affirming reply, just as he turned about from the viewport and began to stride towards the exit of the bridge.

There was a brief period of silence, briefly dumbfounded. It was true that Bralor had since grown used to his station in the time he has held it…but where did that leave the other? After a moment of process, a dry laugh escaped him with a confident nod. “Aye, Al’verde!” He should’ve known, of course, that he would’ve sought to refamiliarize themselves with what a leader ‘ought do—leading from the front.

Thus, weapon in hand, Carduul Akahl had taken the next boarding pod. Not long thereafter, the sudden shriek of metal digging into metal, acceleration and full-stop deceleration, had marked they had arrived to their destination. Crusaders, Mandalorians- they all craved the battle a’fore them with a burning fire that had been untended, and the age-old armor glinted against damaged lighting as the ramp opened to the interior. He, for one, was eager to join them as blaster fire began to ring out amidst the corridor he had incidentally found himself in.

 

[Darion of Myrkr]

Darion swung the mighty beskad in a hard, clean arc and split the pirate in half. The blade went through him as though he were no more than cloth, and blood burst against Darion's visor and ran down across the old gray plates of his Crusader armor. It was warm and bright, and he felt alive in the way a man does only in battle, which he had not felt for a long time.

He had not wanted the order to infiltrate the station. He would have refused it if it had come. Infiltration was part of war, yes, but it was the patient part, the creeping part, and he had little love for it. It was better than the sly rat work the Jedi and Yuri had used against the Imperials at Mon Calamari, and for that, he gave it a little respect, but not much.

This was better.

This was where a warrior proved himself.

In the heat and the noise of fighting, when steel met steel and a man stood before you knowing that one of you would die. You met him with your blade and your strength and nothing hidden between you. You saw the life leave him and you knew it was your hand that took it.

That was the only true measure.

Darion moved forward through the passage with the heavy blade low. He had been the first into the fight, the first to the fray, the first whose steel found blood.

Behind him, he heard the others coming.

He turned his head and looked back over his shoulder and there was a hard smile on his face beneath the visor.

"Come then," he said. "Are you warriors or old men grown soft in their chairs? The enemy waits ahead. If your blood still runs hot, follow me."

Carduul Akahl Romul Saxon Celt Saxon Kamon Hourn Tal Kaja