Asset Acquisition

[Taa Nul]

Geonosis. Once the site of the beginning of one of the galaxy's largest conflicts, and also the site of many vast droid foundries maintained by the local Geonosian populace. The Count had good relations with them, and had hoped to acquire a few of their foundries through a financial investment. However, fate had proven an annoying obstacle once again. A regiment of renegade ex-Techno Union soldiers had seized control of one of the largest foundries the Count had set his sights on, and were proving difficult for the Geonosians themselves to remove. Measures had to be taken immediately.

The Count had deployed his private army, Supremus, down to the planet in force to contain the situation. Three thousand men stood ready to move upon the Foundry and reclaim it, but it would undoubtedly be a costly battle. The renegades had prepared an army of their own to defend the foundry, a horde of reprogrammed B1 Battle Droids standing between the Count and his prize. If he were to take the foundry more easily, precision tools were required. A message was relayed to an old ally of the Count, Isley Verd, requesting the aid of his finest warriors to infiltrate the refinery and disable it's defences...

The Count himself awaited their arrival at a prefabricated fortress deployed by Supremus to act as their base of operations during this crisis, their artillery keeping the enemy pinned within the vicinity of the foundry...

[member="Skorri"]
[member="Alkor Centaris"]
[member="Canal"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"LZ's a bit hot, sir." The pilot called back over the comm, which Alkor acknowledged with a grunt. "We should look for another approach vector, it wouldn't be wise to push through enemy fire. Our shields aren't-"

"Stick to the plan," Alkor replied flatly. He wasn't going to spend hours out of the precious time they had on this contract assuring the safety of three skilled Mandalorians. They would sink or swim on their own. It would have been different if they were a non-combat unit or a large scale force, but these were bloodied warriors or on their way to that point. He expected excellence of them, and Isley- the Warmaster- would have done the same in his position. He was confident of that fact.

"Y-yessir," the pilot muttered. It wasn't his favorite task, flying into a deathtrap. Not when his risking his own neck was part of the deal. "I'll put you through to their forward command. Three, two, one... link."

Good morning, Geonosis. We're here to answer your call from aid on behalf of the Warmaster, [member="Isley Verd"]. We are set to maintain current course, so please make preparations for a less than happy landing.

"What the hell was that!?" The pilot closed the channel instantly as Alkor finished speaking, and the former Dark Jedi glanced in his direction.

He shrugged. "You're flying low," the Corellian exile observed. "What did you expect to happen?"

Alkor didn't even need the Force to anticipate what was coming. "Brace," he snapped to the other two mercs. He grasped a safety handle as the impact took their dropship, a powerful blast from one of the surface to air turrets. Alkor could hear the pilot cursing loudly over the sound of the ship lurching.

"If you could sense that coming, why didn't you tell me?!"

"You wouldn't have been able to avoid it," Alkor replied. It seemed like the man was far too calm given their current circumstances. "Now focus on getting us to the ground in as few pieces as possible."

"Mir'osik," the man cursed Alkor as he pulled heavy on the controls and fought to steady the ship. Alkor turned his gaze to the other two.

"You two ready?" he asked.

[member="Skorri"] | [member="Canal"]​