Jurr Awaud
Character
"Zygerrian Atmospheric Defense, here is Death's Hand of Clan Kryze! We are here to support you! Don't fire on us!"
"Copy that! Go to Royal City at the capital mesa. Our guard regiments are under heavy pressure and retaliate against the slave districts! Help them!"
"Copy that, Death's Hand over and out!"
R'rul laughed growling. "Clan Kryze? Seriously? The crazy Dar'manda Di'kut who believes to be the dark messiah?" The Togorian Mandalorian checked his heavy repeating blaster for the tenth time.
"The bolder the lie, the more believable it is", his ver'alor Cleaf answered stoically and checked his own weaponry again.
The Kom'rk-fighter/transport roared into the stratosphere of Zygerria and the forward shield were lit with fire.
A beautiful world from high above with lush plains and highland, but a slaver world. Lowest scum in the galaxy.
But the smoke collumns of burning cities showed how very wrong the peaceful impression was.
"Here is the drill", reminded Cleaf his men and women securely strapped in their seats over the drop doors. "We land in proximity of a transport ship, secure it in a Black OP and fill it to the brim with freed slaves and get beyond the Lagrange Point before they could raise any planetary shield.
The use of violence against the bad kitties and their cat owners is approved as long as the mission is not compromised."
A series of slight concussions at the hull was felt and heard. "What was that, pilot? Air defense? Are we compromised?", Cleaf radioed to the cockpit.
"Relax, boss, it was just an air patrol of six Brezak-riders. They would never again stand in the way of a flying Kom'rk."
The whole squad of 24 Mandalorian commandos laughed heartily. Nothing could raise the mood better than dying slavers.
The pilot added. "I see a trade federation freighter in the vincinity of the fighting zones. Most of the clanker guards seemed ordered away."
"This looks promising! That is our target! Prepare for deployment!"
"OYA!"
The unique method of air to ground deployment by jetpack out of a flyby was always a Blitz for enemies. Nobody had ever reached the level of perfection in this like the Mandalorians.
Drop doors opened and 24 commandos rained on a surprised troop of battledroids and an unlucky Neimodian commander.
Commander and Tactical droid went down first as precise sniper shots burnt holes into their heads, then Ion-grenades peppered into the close packed droid lines. As the first Mandalorians touched the ground, most enemies were already smoking junk.
"Move! Into the ship! To the command bridge!", ordered the ver'alor, as the hail of R'rul's repeating blaster mowed down Zygerrian guardsmen who tried to reinforce the freighter.
A walk to the bridge with a pile of destroyed droids and dead crewmen behind them later, the commandos reached the bridge.
There were no negotiations, no stalling, just explosives that opened the door and a wide angled shot with fléchette launchers who perforated the command crew without damaging the controls.
The ship was theirs. Part One of the plan was fulfilled.
"Copy that! Go to Royal City at the capital mesa. Our guard regiments are under heavy pressure and retaliate against the slave districts! Help them!"
"Copy that, Death's Hand over and out!"
R'rul laughed growling. "Clan Kryze? Seriously? The crazy Dar'manda Di'kut who believes to be the dark messiah?" The Togorian Mandalorian checked his heavy repeating blaster for the tenth time.
"The bolder the lie, the more believable it is", his ver'alor Cleaf answered stoically and checked his own weaponry again.
The Kom'rk-fighter/transport roared into the stratosphere of Zygerria and the forward shield were lit with fire.
A beautiful world from high above with lush plains and highland, but a slaver world. Lowest scum in the galaxy.
But the smoke collumns of burning cities showed how very wrong the peaceful impression was.
"Here is the drill", reminded Cleaf his men and women securely strapped in their seats over the drop doors. "We land in proximity of a transport ship, secure it in a Black OP and fill it to the brim with freed slaves and get beyond the Lagrange Point before they could raise any planetary shield.
The use of violence against the bad kitties and their cat owners is approved as long as the mission is not compromised."
A series of slight concussions at the hull was felt and heard. "What was that, pilot? Air defense? Are we compromised?", Cleaf radioed to the cockpit.
"Relax, boss, it was just an air patrol of six Brezak-riders. They would never again stand in the way of a flying Kom'rk."
The whole squad of 24 Mandalorian commandos laughed heartily. Nothing could raise the mood better than dying slavers.
The pilot added. "I see a trade federation freighter in the vincinity of the fighting zones. Most of the clanker guards seemed ordered away."
"This looks promising! That is our target! Prepare for deployment!"
"OYA!"
The unique method of air to ground deployment by jetpack out of a flyby was always a Blitz for enemies. Nobody had ever reached the level of perfection in this like the Mandalorians.
Drop doors opened and 24 commandos rained on a surprised troop of battledroids and an unlucky Neimodian commander.
Commander and Tactical droid went down first as precise sniper shots burnt holes into their heads, then Ion-grenades peppered into the close packed droid lines. As the first Mandalorians touched the ground, most enemies were already smoking junk.
"Move! Into the ship! To the command bridge!", ordered the ver'alor, as the hail of R'rul's repeating blaster mowed down Zygerrian guardsmen who tried to reinforce the freighter.
A walk to the bridge with a pile of destroyed droids and dead crewmen behind them later, the commandos reached the bridge.
There were no negotiations, no stalling, just explosives that opened the door and a wide angled shot with fléchette launchers who perforated the command crew without damaging the controls.
The ship was theirs. Part One of the plan was fulfilled.
