Welcome to the fold (Mando Dominion of Adumar: 100 post goal)

[Ordo]

Ordo's big boot crashed through the door of the Adumaran leaders office. He was there to being the Adumarans into the fold and thhat was what he would do. He walked in weapon drawn.

"Last chance." He said as he aimed at the gathered group. "Choose fast, I'm hungry."

 

[Nolan Detta]

Nolan had come down in the drop pod with the others. Utilizing his jet pack, he came out like a rocket at the resisting forces. Wielding a scattershot, Nolan began to blow away any and all in his trajectory. He was a brand new initiate (slightly redundant I know) and had to prove himself a true Mandalorian to his vod. He landed a few hundred meters from the drop pod. He ran into the hangar after @[member="Kable Detta"], his clan mate.

 

[Mac O Shenanigans]

Mac continued to work down the street, his goal the flight control tower. Turning to @[member="Anija Ordo"] , he gestured ahead, "Your doing a fine job, wanna pull the guards fire as I unload on the tower?" Oh sure, Mac could lob those HE rounds safely enough, but who knows what kind of potential Vode could be found from Adumar...

Waiting a few seconds, Mac let Anija decide if she was going to draw the fire or not, and simply shrugged. "I'm s'ooting in one minute. It's your c'oice if'n you want to draw t'eir fire..." It was then Mac moved into position in a crouch, starting his silent count. As the rest of the Mando'ade fought, Mac sat with his back to some cover. Slapping in his last mag of HE rounds, he closed his eyes. As his count reached zero, Mac stood and fired at the tower. It was barely 100 meters away and roughly 30 tall, well within range for Mac fun stabilized rounds to hit the control room at the top. The Strill 2000 spat fire and barked thunder as almost three dozen rounds were delivered, rendering the tower permanently off line.

" @[member="Ordo"] I just took out t'e control tower, any fig'ter cover will be minimal at best."

 

[Anija Betna]

@[member="Mac O Shenanigans"]
@[member="Ordo"]
Anija turned slightly as Mac spoke and her eyebrows rose. 'Draw their fire...' He'd said. Swallowing, she measured the distance between their position and the tower as she crouched next to him, her ripper resting on her knee. "Sure... why not... Someone has to do it. I'll try not to get myself killed.." she replied, grinning slightly as she pushed to her feet. As she did so, blaster bolts lanced towards her from the tower and surrounding rubble.

Narrowing her eyes, she reached out with the Force, trying to sense where their attackers were. It wasn't something she did often, and it wasn't as reliable as she'd like... but it would hopefully help in all the chaos. After a few seconds, she nodded to herself and pulled a grenade from her belt as she rolled to cover. Counting to three, she pulled the pin and tossed it towards where she'd felt the guards to be. She followed it soon after by another as she laid down suppression fire with her ripper, picking off the ones she could see. A few seconds later, she heard the Strill 2000 open up on the tower. This lasted for a minute or two, but after that, there was next to no return fire. "I.. think we got most of them, vod..." she told Mac over the comm.

 

[Neskar A'toll]

Neskar had decided. No longer would he strafe from allegiance to allegiance as a mercenary of yore. He would fight for his people. He would fight for Manda'yaim. And when this epiphany came, he was skinning that Arctic Tiger, with blood and gore on his sweaty palms, and he left. He gave in the bounty and got the credits and drank, for it would be his last. For now, was the thought that went through his mind, but he extinguished it. No more, he had decided. No more slaying for crime-lords, when the Children of Manda'yaim were being slaughtered on the fields of war. No more.

He flew over the skies of Adumar with a slug round rifle in his hands, and war in his eyes. He glared downwards at the action, and wondered where to join in. His actions may be worthwhile, he realised. Every little helped, or something. A flight control tower, he saw, under assault from his vode. A good target, he thought, and he smiled. Descending from the skies, he unleashed a volley of fire upon a sharpshooter atop the tower, and dashed him in a patter of blood and bullets. He landed next to the body, and deactivated the jet-pack. His beskar'gam make a menacing noise as he paced across the roof, to whit he stopped in the centre. A decent sized detpack could punch through that concrete, he was sure of it. Time. Time for war. I almost feel sorry for these poor sods. A gauntleted hand fell to his belt, and clutched a detpack. He punched in a few buttons, and dropped it so it fell on the concrete at a flat angle. Reactivating his jetpack, he rose back into the air and grasped the detonator with an almost child-like glee. War suited him, much more than grunt mercenary work. And with raised thoughts, he detonated that detpack, and watched as a plume of smoke erupted from the top of the traffic control tower, allowing him access. Now for the good stuff. I do say, I much prefer this to what I did before. Something about doing something you love would fit in here.

 

[Davin Starrunner]

Davin was slammed into the control panel in front of him as another concussion missile hit amidships. His R2 unit beeped alarmingly at him. He looked at his displays and frowned. His aft shields were gone and his forward shields were down to 10%. One more hit anywhere on the back half of the ship would pierce the hull and might finish this fight. "R2! Divert everything except engine power to the weapons." If he was going to go down damn it, he'd going down like a true Mando'a and take as many of these bastards with him as he could. His scanners showed that four fighters were left attacking him. He twisted and jinked as he tried to make his way toward his fleet. As much as it would sting his pride, Davin put out a priority distress call stating that he required rescue. He also ordered the gunners on his turrets to get to the escape pods then set the pods to auto eject as soon as the escape pod doros were closed.

Davin twisted his ship which was groaning like an old woman trying to do handsprings and managed to bring one of the enemy fighters into the brackets of his forward laser cannons. Jamming on the trigger, the forward cannons roared shredding the Adumaran fighter. Davin heard a beeping noise and nodded at seeing two escape pods launch toward the planet. He was pleased that at least his gunners would survive this encounter and tell his story to the rest of the Mando'ade.

It wasn't until the other two Mandolorian warriors sat in seats next to him that he realized that they jettisoned the pods to keep him from sealing the cockpit and forcing them to abandon ship. Davin looked at them sharply and they both the just smiled back at him. Davin guessed that he should've known better. Mandalorians weren't exactly known to abandon ship when one of their own was still fighting. He couldn't help but laugh as he jinked to dodge incoming laser fire from the three remaining Adumaran starfighters while the other two began assisting his R2 unit in patching systems and bypassing damage. Davin vaguely began hoping that they might acutally get out of this mess in one piece...

Until his scanner screamed a missile warning at him...

He looked down and saw that the last three fighters each launched a pair of concussion missiles at his ship. Since he was out of decoys and his ship was already severely damaged, it was a good bet that this was the end of it all. Still he moved, jinked and dodged to try and avoid the missiles. He also managed to fire a salvo of laser fire at the three fighters though he didn't know if he scored any hits. Finally, one of the missiles hit his ship and sent it careening out of control and slammed him against the control panel. Another missile hit and threw him from his pilot seat on to the floor. A third missile hit and the impact could be felt all over the ship. The last thing Davin Starrunner heard was the dreaded scream of escaping air due to a hull breach.

And then blackness took him...

@[member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Captain Larraq]

Rygel Larraq had made three stops in the past few hours. The invaluable assistance of the slicer had helped to smooth over the rough spots in the negotiations, leverage for superior deals, and to back opposition into corners. Truth be told, as he sat in a lounge chair aboard his Galaar-class Shuttle, he wondered why he didn't utilize slicers more often.

Larraq had heard over comms that the Mandalorians were doing well, but paid little attention to it. He had one more meeting to take advantage of before he'd be able to truly capitalize on this little venture of his. The country he was negotiating with controlled all the factories on an entire continent. And Larraq wanted those factories to produce nothing but Mandal Hypernautics designs, using Hyperion Mining's materials, and selling to contacts that he approved of. It as unabashed insider trading, but Larraq didn't care. He would have all the benefits of actually purchasing the factories himself without any of the cost.

As he stepped off the shuttle and approached the office building, Larraq couldn't help but to smile.

 

[Captain Larraq]

What Larraq could only assume were junior employees of the company waited to greet him as he stepped from the shuttle. They wasted no time in escorting him to their employers. By now, word of his actions and accomplishments had likely reached nearly every corner of this country. And the obvious results of the Mandalorian offensive of Adumar were likely weighing down on them. The Mandalorians would soon rule this planet and the wiser of the politicians and businessmen were eager to secure their continued existence while the planet was under new management.

Larraq followed the small entourage of young men in business suits to a guided elevator and stood silently while it ascended the building. Hands clasped firmly behind his back and jaw locked in place, Larraq was purposely exuding calm confidence and militant professionalism on top of an apparent indifference. He wanted these men to be uncomfortable around him. He wanted their employer to be uncomfortable. He wanted them to question themselves at every turn. Doubting themselves would lead them to offer up business proposals that they would not otherwise even consider. And all Larraq had to do to accomplish this would be to appear... bored. Indifferent. As if he could simply walk into any other office on the planet and get what he wanted. He wanted these businessmen to feel insignificant.

Because they were. What Larraq wanted could just have easily been obtained through credits transactions and land purchases. Or though assassinations and liquidations. The route Larraq had chosen to take was the cheapest solution that required the fewest body-bags.

He'd had enough blood on his hands in recent years. While he was still able to sleep soundly at night, he was loathe to cause mass casualties outside of the fields of combat.

So this was the route he had set himself to on Adumar. Coming to a conclusion...

As the elevator finally slowed to a stop and the gilded doors slid open, Larraq had to suppress a smile. He would soon control every factory on the continent, dedicating each one to producing missiles and starfighters for Mandal Hypernautics.