Welcome to the Jungle [Horde, Mando, Circe, Others]

[Aedan Miles]

Aedan Miles grinned darkly as he heard the sirens and call to arms looking around he barked out orders the droids activating they made their way into the Umbra-class dropships settled nearby as the pilots hurried into their fighters. Aedan started to prepare to take off connect with the mandolorian in charge he called out calmly. "This is Aedan Miles with the Corsair mercenaries we have droids inbound in 2 minutes and air support in bound immediately requesting knowledge of airborne targets or if they are all ground bound?" Aedan slowly took off as he waited to hear from the Marshal of the mandolorians. He pulled up and around in a quick circle towards the correct heading as the rest off the fighters came up the last of the droids moving into the dropships as the fighters flashed towards the prison quickly. @[member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Sturgis Tal'Verda]

He wanted to talk to the Mandalorian, to know where he had been, what he had been doing, but his situation was dire. He looked at the people around him, many of them wearing the Red Legion armor, some of their faces exposed showing expressions of confusion and fear. He frowned at them behind his helmet. "You heard the man, get to it!" he shouted. Pressing the key again he sighed heavily, "If this is some sort of trick..." his threat fell empty, for if this was a fabled ghost ship as he assumed, he was sending his men to their deaths and could do nothing in retribution or revenge against the ship. Only time would tell.

In the mean time, he had a planet to defend. "Call the reserve, we need them now!!"
@B'Arin Graad

 

[Pa'Kar Sang]

What was happening? Where were they being sent to a Ghost Ship to take survivors? He hadn't been there when Graad had been killed, though he had heard stories of his defense. He held great respect for the man...But what was the point if they were already dead? Loading into a Tra'galaar transport along with two others they launched from the station, dodging the dogfights and starfighter fire from both sides to get to the failing Kad'ika cruiser.
@B'Arin Graad

 

[Garrus Garon]

...jolted by the nuclear explosions ripping across the surface of the planet above while he descended on the turbolift with the rest of the Mandolorians Garrus would have reached out and taken hold of one of the railings on the lift to support himself. It wasn't long before he heard Strider's voice as well, commanding the defense of the base, and turned his attention towards his brother Garrus would have stated quite clearly..."Where you go; I will go."...he'd come here to safeguard his brother which meant that he'd be here to ensure that Strider lived through the battle mostly unscathed. Not that he doubted his brother could handle himself when it came to combat but Garrus was meant to serve a purpose.

He wasn't sure if they would return topside and defend the base from above ground however he'd add..."Lots of narrow corridors down below. It could be easier there."...selfishly Garrus was thinking about himself. He'd do his best work in close quarters. His hold on the Blaster Rifle tensed, he stood straight beside Strider again, and looking at the other Mandolorians that occupied the turbolift he'd offer a nod of his head. Garrus recognized the Manda'Lor but that was pretty much it; he didn't follow the faces of many other men regardless of rank or reputation which may have worked against him on occasion though just as often as not it wasn't important.

When Garrus heard another Mandolorian, a member of Clan Detta say that he would take point, he'd have chuckled a bit and began to head off the turbolift. He assumed Strider would come with him but in the case his brother wanted to fight up top he could always turn around. Marching into the base Garrus would find a container down the length of a corridor and set up a defensive position there; his Blaster Rifle aiming ahead as he readied for combat...

@[member="Kable Detta"] @[member="Gilamar Skirata"]@[member="Strider Garon"]​

 

[Darren Onyx]

Onyx sat there, eyes closed tightly. The meditation room was larger then most, built to hold group meditation sessions. But Onyx was alone today, in this meditation room on this transport ship, a large junker he stole awhile back on Corellia, thinking of everything that's happened. It didn't feel great, in fact it hurt to think of it all. To think of all the friends he had lost, all the enemies he made, all the times he tasted death, all the memories of lovers long gone... everything pained him. Everything was pain in his life...

In his mind he talked with himself, trying to move on from the past. But it was hard for someone like him. He was someone with a past, a history of being in trouble. He grew up a criminal and a disgrace to his family. He killed his father for crying out loud! He wasn't a good soul or someone who could be redeemed. He was just a dark shell.

He wanted more then this though. He dreamed, once, of starting a family. Or having a wife, someone he could love and someone to love him back, and having a few kids. He would be a father, a man of the house. He would raise his family, if force-sensitive, to be Jedi and follow the correct path instead of the one he had chosen. He wanted that. He wanted to spend his last years in peace and without war or hate or anything that had gotten him where he was now.

But he couldn't have any of it and it was, finally, clear what fate wanted. It wanted his life to be destructive and wanted to leave him broken and unfulfilled. It seemed that way at least. And now he just meditated on it, not knowing what else to do with himself. He had no friends to call upon- no loved ones to help him up and out of this dark pit. They were gone and his enemies surrounded him everywhere.

His mind then shifted to Circe, one of his last remaining friends. She was recently captured by the Mandalorians, who Onyx greatly despised. He had heard rumors of where she was taken, which he later confirmed while investigating it on Korriban, where the old libraries of the Sith lay in ruin. Through them he discovered the heavily guarded prison. Part of him wanted to believe she would break out. But then again, he knew she couldn't on her own.

Opening his eyes he stood. Standing in the center of the room he sighed. In the years he was away, training himself in the Unknown Regions, he felt alone. Circe was the one to bring him back. Without her he wouldn't have survived long after returning. He owed it to her... And now he was ready to repay the debt.

He nodded to himself, he knew what needed to be done. Walking out of the room and into the cockpit, the two rooms were connected, he sat in the pilots chair and punched in coordinates, to the planet known as Mykr. It was here that Circe was being held.

It took a few hours but he eventually came out of lightspeed. As the ship slowly approached the planet he stood again. He walked over to another room, a much smaller room that was the armory. It was just a closet but Onyx had put his weapons and armor in there. He reached for his cloak but stopped himself. The cloak was black and was torn. Holes were everywhere as was ash. He had always worn that cloak, from the day he murdered his father and on...

He looked down at a small box. Kneeling down he opened it, revealing a white cloak. It was his Jedi Robes, which only wore during the short time he was with the Order. He put that cloak on. He wanted to leave his old life behind and rejoin the light. After putting it on he, piece by piece, slid on his Mandalorian armor. The dark red armor fit perfectly with the cloak. As he finished he reached over and pulled up his hood.

Then he grabbed his weapons. Two blaster pistols were strapped to both sides of his waist. Along the front of his belt were several thermal detonators. He also added a custom knife holder that was attached to his chest plate. It was there that he had a large knife, one that could easily cut through flesh and bone. He also took his E-5s sniper rifle and had it over his back. Finally he had two weapon slots left on his belt, one on each side, built for holding lightsabers. He grabbed his two lightsabers from the armory and looked down at them. Grasping them tightly he nodded.

He was ready. But something was missing. Examining the locker he couldn't find the most important piece of his armor, his mask. His infamous mask, fashioned after Revan's, was his pride and joy. He always had it. He went to great lengths to retrieve it from his greatest enemy, John Harrison. But when he got it back, he never lost it again.

He felt nervous for a moment, thinking he lost it. He turned and looked around the cockpit, finding it sitting on one of the terminals. He walked towards it but stopped. He created his mask a few months after becoming a Sith. It was something that, even when he was a Jedi, stayed with him through everything. All the things he faced, he faced while wearing that mask. So he stopped himself. He wouldn't face this, something that might be his greatest challenge, with it.

He nodded. He was ready. All he needed was the right time to land and strike.

 

[Carn Dista]

@[member="Ember Rekali"]

From somewhere within the Galaxy, Carn realised that Ember Rekali (even though he had never met, or heard of the man before) had a glorious amount of common sense, and would be most deserving of a handshake in recognition of his talents.

 

[Nyxie]

Beep-beep. Beep-beep. A short ping on the open length holocoms came over.
"Looks like I'm late to the party...." she said moments before the com went dark and her craft's signal became lost again, "Magnolia Wing, free to engage."
A while back, the Horde - or at least her efforts and assets on their behalf - had procured a few moderately large Mnenchei Dominion Royal Navy ships destined to be moved to the Republic Mnencheiasus Corps. Not even scratching the surface of the combined forces' full military power, the loss of a few ships went largely unrecognized and not pressing, in part thanks to the Ankai's meditations of knowing exactly where they went. After all, advanced technology she herself had helped develop was used to do the deed, and records of all of its data always circulated to her grasp.
A Sadow Cruiser, refitted from their former shells, fell out of hyperspace somewhere distant from the world but it still within their view. Without a single pause, they hurdled forward towards the other side of the planet at full speed, knowing full well that they likely weren't returning home if they encountered any Mandalorian fleet resistance due to their solidarity and lack of aerial counteroffenses. It did not matter, for the men and vong caught under Ashelotte's charge were utterly dedicated, if not to the high prophet to a high paycheck. It was too late for any of them to turn back now. Pools of PSIS-M-stealthed gunships engaged a charge of the system and descended onto the planet below in utter secrecy - the mix of their absence in the Force coupled with the vessels' sensor masking making them impossible to target or even detect unless visually, as nearby sensors would only pick up sporadic and unstable anomalies. There were a good twenty four of them; enough there to hammer a small army if they could come in completely undetected until the first warhead struck.
Split into two groups of twelve, the two Astra squadrons closed in on the area via pincer, the obvious signs of decimation present at their very low but aerial altitude, the radiation simply bouncing off their shields and filtration systems if they'd pass over ground zeros. Minutes later, when their jamming systems lost their first couple of charges, they engaged. Suddenly, one indiscriminate ping over their systems notified them that they were finally in the operational range. Each gunship held six warhead tubes which all went off in succession. The massive cumulation of 144 explosive submunission warheads hurdled at high speeds towards the base and all of its surroundings. Perhaps some could possibly be tracked and possibly even intercepted by automatic turrets and AA fire, but the sheer quantity made it impossible to decimate their numbers. Shrapnel of the burst heads rained down over the area; Steel Rain, it would utterly wreak havoc on infantry units and light vehicles. And they still all had five more shots left....
Several turrets - the ones too armored to be destroyed or too well concealed to be fought off - were met with turbolaser fire from the gunships' dual cannons. So far they had not sustained losses of but a single ship, but the damage they had just caused was momentous and without mercy for all those stationed above or in the woods.
The com lines were still dark, and the ships all began hitting the next charge of their sensor array jammers as they prepared to carry out the next fly-by sweep of unified steel rain and cannon fire. If left unchecked, this could go on up to six times before the surface saw any mercy. All that was left was for those on the ground to reach the scratched but undamaged turbolift and scuttle down to carry out operations on their own, below.

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

The explosion rocked the underground prison, shaking the transparent tubes that held the Ysalamiri. The small, furry lizards hissed and squeeked in protest as they scurried through their giant maze in confusion. Thrown forward a small bit, he grasped the walls, anger gripping his features, hidden behind his black visor. "Karking Hell! What's happening up there...?" Of course, Strider, his long time brother in arms and Field Marshal was already one step ahead of him. As the lift finally made it to the underground prison, emergency protocol had already begun. Mandalorians clad in their armor could be seen running from place to place through the halls.

The body language of the Mandalorian operating the lift screamed disappointment, mostly due to the horrible timing of the assault. <Don't just stand here, open the damn gate!> And with that the beskar bars that blocked entrance into the prison slid up and the transparisteel door of the lift slid aside, allowing the small group of Mandalorians into the prison. <What's the status of our prisoner?>

<Luckily, it seems we are deep enough underground to have avoided an EMP blast and all systems down here are fine.>

A solid nod came from the old man as he sighed and shifted his shoulders in his armor.
@[member="Garrus Garon"] @[member="Strider Garon"] @[member="Kable Detta"] @[member="Ordo"]

 

[Ordo]

@[member="Gilamar Skirata"] @[member="Carn Dista"]@ Garrus Garon @[member="Strider Garon"]

Ordo was not surprised Circe's many mates had come to tool it up and strike the prison and unlike most of them he had spent years training ro kill force users without the force.

He checked his gear and looked at his reflection as he held his buy'ce in his armored hand.

"Do you guy's think I should grow a beard?" He said as he finally put his helmet back on.

He held unslung his Gladiator and did a physical check of his weapons. Ripper, beskad, Fett Kal, grenades, rancor grenade luncher, flame gauntlet, crush gauntlet and lightsaber yup it was a good day for someone else to die. A damn good day, indeed.

 

[Aedan Miles]

Aedan Miles and his squadron where nearing the prison when he saw the fire from above hit and he cursed loudly and opened coms with his units and the armada placed a short hyperspace jump away. "This is Miles we have ships near the surface no radar contact look for visual contact." His fighters pulled up slightly so that they were hopefully above their targets and then turned a bit so that the pilots could get a look down toward the prison and started scanning for them. One of his pilots suddenly gave a cry to his right as they were circling the prison "Boss I got eyes on ships firing at the prison to our right and low." Aedan looked over and caught sight of them giving a nod as he started to pull around towards them flicking a few switches as the shields of his fighters were evened out. "All fighters prepare to engage enemy gunship analogs." There was a chorus over affirmatives over the coms before the 12 craft neared their targets and let loose a mixed barrage of laser and ion cannon fire. @[member="Ashe the Reaper"]

 

[Nyxie]

From the supplementary PSIS optical sensors, the adjacent wave of gunships saw the flight of fighters nearing around the opposite flight. The first flight leader notified all craft via simple radiowave console ping. Most of the pilots checked their sixes through small reflector panels inside the cockpit, while their gunners prepared to turn around the small composite autoturrets in the wings to fix on the target via analog. For the greater portion of this fight, they'd be nigh invisible to all forms of sensory Force included, but would suffer similar deficits to targets not immediately in or near their twelve where the optical cameras were. They continued the second strike, another 144 burst missiles causing even greater deforestation and casualties to infantry and light targets, while preparing for the fighters to come into firing range. Before the counterstrike fireworks of the squadron of gunships could shoot off into the sky, a single low-altitude craft gracefully and carefully pierced through the treeline beyond sight. As the two flights of Astra were about to pass each other again and prepare for a defense and third sweep, it sprung forth behind the flight of enemy fighters in their distraction, quickly climbing to meet their altitude at now open throttle.
There wasn't a single fighter in the wide galaxy that ever successfully shot down this particular model of craft. Even the richest of buyers didn't have the honor of being considered worthy of preview for purchase, and truly she was an endangered species.
Suddenly, two fighters found themselves at the short end of a nearly-point-blank repeating barrage of quad machine blasters that overwhelmed their shields and would very likely tear right through their hulls with chilling efficiency at that range. The only craft not masked, the exclusive elite fighter her Electrum-trimmed MMS-510 got a quick and solid simultaneous lock on two other craft with its HRE missile drivers, which were fired as soon as the previous two craft were cleared. It pulled up hard right as the fireworks began and made an immelmann and returned to the small clearing veins within the treeline. With the missiles impending from behind, tiny composite beams began shooting back at the pursuers as the gunships in the front took ample care to fire their twin laser cannons forward just above the second gunship flight. In the meyhem the gunships began taking a pounding just as quickly as they returned the favor. Several had needed time to recuperate shields while two had been solidly shot down by ion fire and stray beams, a third being utterly destroyed in mid air.
"Hold your formation and continue flight pattern pi!" one of the Vong officers commanded.
They knew very well that they could regroup but be easily outraced and picked off from behind, or continue to do opposing, passing sweeps as two groups which forced the fighters to take light fire from not only their targets, but more specifically cannon fire from the oncoming gunships. It was tactically flawless, and their commander would truly have Ashelotte's respect to successfully counter such an effective dual offense-defense strategy. Hopefully no one would pull a cheap shot and start hailing them all with ion battery fire from a capital ship. Ashe found such a thing particularly reckless considering the proximity of the enemy fighters to her own gunships, but she wasn't willing to put it past the Mandolorians and their allies to sacrifice for the 'greater good.'
Meanwhile, Ashelotte hoped that whatever allies or delegates she inadvertantly had would take the opportunity of the clearing of forestry and patrols to land and begin the tactical raid on the underground facility.

@[member="Aedan Miles"] @[member="Circe Savan"]​

​

Spoiler

(((Note: Ashe is in the electrum fighter and in the time it takes for a craft to notice and turn around, hers would be nearing completion of its aerial manuever and cutting through tight clearings in the woods, soon to be out of sight.)))​

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/23411-astra-class-gunship-resub/​

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/15423-psis-m/​

In case you wanted to reference them again at any point. ​

​

​

 

[Aedan Miles]

Aedan Miles heard reports come flooding in from his pilots all of a sudden. Two fighters destroyed pilots ejected dropships would recover the pilots after they dropped off the droids. Two fighters heavily wounded falling back to base before they were destroyed. Even before the reports were over Aedan was inverting his fighter and diving suddenly cutting thrusters and kicking in his repolsurs so he was facing the way that the enemy had left he suddenly cut the repolsurs and pushed his throttle to full jetting after it. The other pilots of the infamous Dragoon Squadron continued to pour fire at the gunships as they closed their astromechs quickly adding more power to front shields so that they would hold up against the head to head pass. Three of the remaining fires launched proton missiles straight with a timer fuse. While this was a dangerous maneuver the torpedoes would detonate 5 seconds after launch the pilots hoped this would place them within the group of gunships but it was hard to calculate without good sensor data. After the pass the pilots would all attempt to come around yanking back on their control yokes almost madly as they tried to pull around behind the enemy.

The three Umbra-class dropships were inbound around this time aside from the pilots and gunners the only things they carried were 20 CIS battle droids each with a freshly painted Corsair emblem on their chest so that they would be recognized as belonging to the Corsair mercenaries. The dropships set down and their cargo doors open and the droids charged out of them and onto the battlefield raising their weapons as their sensors activated scanning the area for any living enemies. If they found none they would begin moving towards the turbo lift into the Jail proper and set up a perimeter around it any Mandalorians in the vicinity would be approached by a droid with slightly different colors and it would salute before intoning in a robotic voice. “All Corsair droids are in position and ready to defend we have been placed under your command while Captain Aedan Miles leads the air team Sir.”

Aedan Miles losing sight of his target did something rather unusual he kicked in his repolsur lifts again and floated there his eyes viewing the area before him as he waited for the mysterious fighter to make its appearance once again. His hand rested calmly on the control yoke before him as the young man prepared to engage an unknown enemy in a fast fighter. He smirked as he looked back at his ever present companion R8 and muttered half to the droid. “This will be an interesting fight R8.”
@[member="Ashe the Reaper"]

 

[B'Arin Graad]

B'Arin ran through the corridors of the cruiser, desperately willing the ship to hold together a little longer. The ship had done well to stay together this long. Just a little while longer... Turning one corner, B'Arin found a pair of surviving Mandalorians taking care of yet another one of those strange creatures. "Ner vod!" The pair turned to look at him and quickly fell in line with him as he continued running towards the hanger. Once there, he saw dozens pushing aside the ruined wrecks of the ship's old transports. <"Atin! How many do we have?"> B'Arin shouted in Mando'a before a crash caused him to spin around and see several creatures charging towards the group. <"We've counted eighty-nine so far.">

Hearing the first transport, B'Arin took a blaster rifle from one of the other Mandalorians and shouted, <"Alright boys! Ride home is here. Get your asses on those transports unless you want to be bug food. Wounded first."> No Mandalorian wanted to be the first one to leave a fight, so B'Arin had to kick the closest one in the sheb and get him moving. The rest began to follow suit. He knew that there wasn't enough room for them all, as only three transports had shown up in close formation. He looked at one of the pilots and tapped his helmet to open a com channel. <"Get these wounded out of here. We'll hold on for the next round of transports."> A second crash revealed dozens more of the arachnoid creatures charging at the Mandalorians. <"Hurry!">

@[member="Jaden Taacyn"]

 

[Pa'Kar Sang]

What sort of karking space hell was this? The strange creatures theses Mando'ade had been fighting. He wondered if they had been fighting them this entire time. He didn't wait around to chat the soldieres up in order to find out. He took the hint and shoved his way through the crowd of Mandalorians that had boarded the transport to make his way to the cockpit. <He said they'll wait, we need to go, now!> With that his co-pilot closed the ramp, the sound of blaster fire became muffled by the beskar and durasteel boarding ramp. Cursing under his breath he commed the other two shuttles.

<Alright, time to head out! Send word for another group!>
@B'Arin Graad

 

[Sturgis Tal'Verda]

Of course, once the assault began, the defense of the planet became much easier. With the top dogs of the assault seemingly absent, the few ships that were being sent were easy pickings for the turbolasers and turrets of the two Star Destroyers and their accompaniment. The fighters were ripping dropships apart, and to be honest, Vhett's most pressing issue was the evacuation of the cruiser that was falling apart and headed planetside.

 

[B'Arin Graad]

The sound of alien screeches was punctuated only by the sound of precision blaster fire. Each Mandalorian alive on that ship had learned, the hard way, what sort of foe these things were. One of the creatures took a shot to the head and fell over dead. While the rest kept marching on, two others stopped and began to rip apart the body in a frenzy. That was the sort of honorless dogs these beings were. Despite their diminished numbers, the fifty some odd that had been left were all in near perfect health, so their overall combat efficiency was greater now than it had been when they had needed to tend and protect the wounded.

As the next pair of transports came in, the ship shuddered and began to noticeably list towards the planet. The space just outside the shield began to glow a faint red as the friction of falling into the planet's atmosphere began to heat up the hull. <"The ship's not going to survive re-entry. Pack as many onto the transports as we can. I'll take whoever's left and get off another way."> There was some protesting, but soon he was left with a mere six Mandalorians now. But that would be enough. <"Go!"> B'Arin turned and charged towards the creatures, snatching a vibro-dagger from his belt and beheading one on his way past. <"We have to get to the armory."> One of the Mandalorians protested. <"But that's where those things rest! They've got their queen in there."> B'Arin grinned savagely behind his helmet. <"All the more reason for us to give her a Mandalorian send-off before this thing hits the ground.">

They continued to fight their way towards the interior of the ship, even as a horde of creatures swarmed behind them. They were as much running toward an objective as they were running away from impossible odds. As they rounded a corner, B'Arin pulled his one of his last two grenades off his belt and tossed it behind them. The deck shuddered and pained screeches filled the air with the nauseating scent of scorched carapace. Unfortunately, secondary explosions began to tear through the ship and the entire thing gave an ominous groan as it was suffused with fire and plasma trails. <"Hurry. We don't have much time."> The armor wasn't too much further and appeared suspiciously unguarded.

Two Mandalorians took point and opened the door. After a moment, they gave the all-clear and the rest followed them in with B'Arin bringing up the rear. Inside was a gory mess. Most of it had long since dried, but the visual of it was none easier to look at with time. The source of this travesty was a massive creature in the center of the Armory. Easily ten times the size of a full-grown Hutt, this creature was anchored down by a number of biological webs and claws. "You ugly schutta..." He pulled the last grenade off his belt as the Mandalorians all grabbed their signature jetpacks and slid them on. "You've given us a lot of hell these past few months. I have to say, I'm almost sad to see you go." The she-creature shrieked and clawed impotently at him as he chuckled. "I wanted to leave you a little present. Something to keep you nice and warm." The grenade whined as he pressed the primer on it and tossed it.

As it arced over her head and bounced off the wall, for an instant it glowed like a miniature sun before erupting in a massive, destructive blast that obliterated everything up it touched, stopping a bare half-meter from B'Arin's feet. When the light faded, the queen was no more. However, this final explosion had proven too much for the ship and as explosions rocked the exterior of the ship, it snapped into two pieces. The forward section of the ship bent backwards as the stress proved too much for the aged frame and began to fall away. The rear of the ship, and larger half of the two, began to tumble as it descended. Inside, the Mandalorians all struggled to stay upright as they moved towards the space where the alien creature once sat. The thermal detonator has blown a hole through the outer hull, just large enough for a man to climb through. <"Go, go!"> Into the fiery contrails, the Mandalorians jumped. By the time the rest had jumped, the ship had tumbled such that B'Arin had to activate his mag boots and climb out onto the hull.

When he was clear, B'Arin gave a quick glance to where the ship was going to crash. Through the fiery view, he spotted a number of transports unlike any he had seen used by the Mandalorians before. On the way down, he had heard chatter that seemed to indicate that something was going on on the planet. If there were enemies of the Mandalore here, then these were most likely the transports they had used to get onto the planet. So much the better then. <"Consider this my hello then, bastards."> With a gesture, B'Arin jumped off the ship he had called home for so long and zoomed away. Unable to not watch the ship's final end, he turned and watched as the ship first touched down. It ripped through the trees like they weren't even there and bounced once. When it came down again, it crashed right through the transports before the reactor's containment field failed and the entire area was vaporized in an explosion that could be seen from space. <"Farewell..."> B'Arin whispered sadly before turning and flying off, leaving the smoldering wreckage of his home behind.

@[member="Kasamann"] @[member="Jaden Taacyn"] @[member="Sherruk Vhett"]

 

[Aleidis Zrgaat]

@[member="Ordo"]

Aleidis Ijet was, to her core, one of the good guys.

And not a templar 'HNAAAAAR KILL TEH EBUL' good guy, either. Pacifism made sure that hadn't ever really been the case. That, and the fact that she had to wear a special belt to make sure she wasn't instantly killed by a hard slap or stray jostle.

Her shuttle screamed out of warp above Myrkr, cloaked from sight, sensors, and sound by a protective weave of the White Current - a skillful application of the same way Je'Gan Olra'En used to get around the universe. Granted, she couldn't cloak a ship nearly as comprehensively as he could, but not being as good as the best illusionist in thousands of years was just something she'd have to resign herself to. She didn't mind, really. The planet was, according to the research she'd done on the way over, infested with reptiles that nullified the powers of Force users. Doubtlessly, that meant her own abilities were useless on the surface, which meant that her cloak would only get her down to the surface.

From there? She'd have to figure it out.

And that wasn't a great feeling.

But Circe had once saved the life of her most treasured companion on a a mess of a jungle planet like this, and had asked nothing in return for it. Aleidis had to try and return the favor, and hopefully she wouldn't be killed in the process.

Sensors told her that a chunk of the planet's surface had been heavily irradiated by nuclear weapons or something like them, which was problematic. Not because of radiation - Aleidis could deal with cancer quite handily. In fact, healing that sort of thing was something of a specialty of hers. No, more worryingly, the radiation would fry her inertial belt - complex electronics didn't do well in such conditions. As valuable as it was, she couldn't run the risk of losing it. It'd have to stay behind. Her cybernetic arm might get fried, too, but as simple as the cheap prosthetic was? It might be alright, and if she lost it, it could be easily replaced. If it started acting up, she'd just disconnect it and leave it in the dust.

Of all the teenagers in the universe, the one who'd used a web of carefully chosen lies to wrap the Galaxy in a half-year's peace was coming to Myrkr to politely ask the Mandolorians to release the most reviled woman in the system. Or, you know, sneak into their prison and do it herself. Because that was a totally realistic plan - just walking into a prison belonging to the most elite warrior caste in the Galaxy, without Force powers to aid her.

Aleidis sensed @[member="Ember Rekali"] meditating in orbit. In that moment, she instinctively knew that he was aware of her, as well. The best defense against the White Current was the White Current, after all, and if you were imprisoning a Fallanasi-trained woman, you'd want somebody who could sense her potential students coming for her. Aleidis hadn't ever been taught by Circe, but she knew there wasn't much Ember could do to stop her from reaching the surface of the planet. Once she was on/near the ground, anybody would be able to see her. Hopefully, they'd be too distracted by the battle to care about a thin girl trying to invade.

As her shuttle breached the atmosphere, Aleidis reflected that the irradiating blasts had done her the small favor of killing a great deal of Ysalmari - she'd be able to get closer to the surface before leaving the embrace of the Force. Popping a couple of tablets to help deal with potential radiation sickness down her throat, Aleidis slung her ever-present satchel over her shoulder and briefly checked it's contents.

One lightfoil, one flare gun, one datapad (that would likely survive just fine). Trail mix, flares, and first aid supplies. A handful of credits, personal identification, and a picture of, in her opinion, the most important Togruta in the universe. There were more saucy ones on her data pad, but the picture of Codi throwing up rabbit ears behind her head at the end of their first mission together as Jedi Knights was her favorite.

Alei's shuttle touched down briefly on the surface, and the Ghostling took a moment to gather her thoughts, then unclip her inertial belt. Gravity asserted it's tyrannical force on her body and, for a sickening moment, her organs settled. Uck. That was still the worst feeling in the world. Leaving the belt on the shuttle, Aleidis instructed it to orbit another planet in the system until she called for it, then stepped off the craft and into the irradiated field left by the Horde's attack. Although she couldn't feel it, the Ghostling knew she was becoming saturated with radiation and would have to hurry.

And so she did. Cutting a wide berth around any battles that happened to be raging in this hellhole, a small, thin girl without so much as a shred of armor on nimbly cut her way over the burnt wasteland. In flowing green trousers and a matching shirt, she stuck out a bit. But then, she'd been planning on breaking in with a jungle for cover. So much for that. Radiation tablets and healing skill notwithstanding (not that she could heal on this planet, anyway) she'd have to hurry!

 

[Strider Garon]

Haran: Underground Prison below the ruin base with only one turbo lift entry in the ruins of the main house.

"Lets find out Mand'alor!" Strider nodded in agreement it was best to find out the condition of their highest profiled prisoner. He then looked back to the Detta brothers and his very own brother Garrus Garon. "I want you three to stay here and cover the only entrance into this facility. Anything that comes down that shaft i want you to deliver nothing short of grotesque violence upon them"

Strider Garon then would lead the rest up the hallway with control opening to doors into the main circle. Once through the doors Strider gave them a wave out of appreciation and moved on towards the CF-1 door. "Control give us access to charlie foxtrot one!" he commanded on prison's private com frequency, looking back to Ordo "A beard would be an improvement vod'ika!"

The control repeated the door back and few seconds later the large blast doors slid open. Circe was dead center and suspended in the Containment field. At the moment she looked unconscious but reading the monitors she was still very much alive. Strider moved into the room, his eyes glued to the plant "So much being sacrificed at this very moment for this chakaaryc. Maybe we should place a bolt to her head, cremate her and be done with it?"

@[member="Ordo"] @[member="Gilamar Skirata"] @[member="Garrus Garon"] @[member="Kable Detta"] @[member="Nolan Detta"]
@[member="Circe Savan"]

 

[courageisthekey]

What the hell was he doing?!? Miniature nuclear weaponry? WHERE WE WERE FIGHTING? Within three seconds several of the mercenaries in Group A were blown apart. Two from an explosion, another from the Mandos guarding the prison. Kionis dra frai trov eckim no sec! Don't ask me to translate that. It's not appropriate to say. Even for a soldier, pirate, or pilot. Morganians get serious with their swearing. To translate it... No, I have to focus on other things at the moment. "Avoid explosion sites and keep away from the zombs that carry bombs. Do you best to clear the area of Mandos, then we'll figure out a way to get inside!" I ordered, speaking into my comm. The others nodded before entering radio silence. Didn't want the enemies to know EXACTLY what we were gonna do. I may only have a little bit of experience in leading, but I'm not that stupid. Group B continued with me, advancing forward while attempting to avoid the radiation. I knew what it could cause. But I had gone through cancer once. Going through it again wouldn't be fun... I could handle it though. What had plagued me had been an advanced stage of one of the rarer kinds of cancer. If I survived that, I'm sure I can survive a little radiation sickness.​

​

"Benny, you go around to the right with Jip, Esker and Rein take the left flank, both divisions take one other with you. The rest of you go straight forward. I have something that needs doing." With that I split of from the group, rushing up into the trees. The branch I desperately wanted to step on was currently occupied by a very, very stupid lizard. One strike from a silver lightsaber ended it's pitiful (but force-weakening) existence. Moving it's corpse over I crouched low, looking over the chaotic scene. There was far less cover out here now (thanks to Mr. Asshat's nukes)... I wouldn't be able to use the trees for much longer. Before I could get down and rejoin my men, I noticed a flash of green below me. There was... a teenage girl? Just running through the area? What the- "PSST! Lady! You er, you really don't want to go through here!" I called, trying to be both loud and quiet at the same time. Quickly I jumped to the ground, doing a clumsy roll to ease my landing. Next I started after the woman, easily going a bit faster than her (Space Elf, if ya forgot). Who was this lassy? What was she doing here?
Then it hit me. She was here to save Circe.​

​

MEANWHILE:​

Esker had been a mercenary for a long, long time. He had never attempted something this ridiculous. But he charged forward anyway, blasting away at any enemy who stood in his way. Didn't even flinch when Rein was shot down a mere meter away. The man had once been a Mandalorian himself, he knew how to fight. And he knew that to die in a fight like this... one so epic... Well, Esker was satisfied with his life. If he died here, he would die with whatever honor he had left. That was good enough for him. Group B (what was left of it, 9 mercs) reunited with Group A (8 left of their original 12), attempting to hold the entrance to the turbolift. One of the lads, a man named Grant, got an idea. He pulled a poison gas grenade from his pack and launched it down the shaft (after activating it). If any Mandos down there were nearby and didn't have breath filters... They'd have some time to get one. Not before they were exposed to the gas, of course. "Ya moron! We need to go down there in a bit!" Esker yelled, slapping Grant aside the head. The man shrugged and simply said that the gas would disperse. Eventually it wouldn't be in a big enough concentration to hurt them.​

He hoped Nacht would take her time.​

@[member="Aleidis Ijet"] @[member="Strider Garon"] @[member="Garrus Garon"] @[member="Kable Detta"] @[member="Nolan Detta "]@[member="Ordo"] @[member="Gilamar Skirata"] @Anyone else I missed.
​

 

[Garrus Garon]

...Garrus didn't need any further instruction from Strider before he replied..."With pleasure."...while positioning himself defensively behind the containment crate that he'd located in the hallway as it stretched further down away from the turbolift. As he stood behind the crate Garrus would have knelt down onto a knee and aimed his Blaster Rifle ahead towards the turbolift; he'd use the crate as a support for the weapon and steady its butt back against his shoulder so that it could absorb any recoil. Underneath his helm Garrus had also turned his attention so that he could regard both of the Detta Brothers that Strider had left him with while the others went to another area...

...their orders had been clear, hold the corridor leading out of the turbolift, and they were simple enough. Garrus hoped that his two cohorts understood them as well as he did. Looking ahead Garrus would have heard the grenade as it fell down the turbolift shaft and impacted with the floor before exploding and dispersing its content of poison gas. Optics and hearing sensory in his helm provided him with senses that were attuned beyond normal and Garrus would have seen the grenade and ducked behind the crate completely. When the explosion was less than he expected he'd rise back up from behind cover and look towards the shaft again...

..."Poison Gas."...he'd grunt as the filtration system in his helmet activated before adding..."What is this amateur hour."...then he'd level his Blaster Rifle towards the turbolift shaft again ready to lay down suppressive, and deadly, fire on whoever made their way down it and into the open. The Warrior had a sense of humor..."Oh no. Gas. I'm dying."...he moaned out, clearly mocking the attackers, while he continued to aim his weapon ahead and wait...

...patience was a virtue in this type of engagement...​

​

@Strider Garon@Kable Detta @Nolan Detta @@Vanessa Nacht Seele