Arrbi Betna
Marauder
Wayland had fallen. A bastion of defense and a fortress of the Mandalorian territories was under Primeval control. While a devastating defeat in and of its own self, the following cascade of territory loss was akin to adding insult to injury.
This was unacceptable.
Aeten II, arguably the most important world lost, was a prime example of this. As soon as Mandalorian influence had faded splinter groups of One Sith warlords, Primeval separatists, and ambitious Vong overlords had flocked to the world seeking the stygium on the planet. With such a valuable resource up in the air with no one holding it, the Mandalorians knew there was only one option: retake it.
Failure was not an option.
Across the system Mandalorian ships descended to the planet below. Some carried troops, others carried diplomats and civilians. Not all the world had fallen to the usurpers and many parts simply needed to see the familiar faceplates of T-shaped visors to be drawn back in. For a few pockets across the planet, however, warriors were the only answer. In the skies above streaked contrails of rockets and starships alike, some dogfighting, others escorting. Higher above still stood the mighty warships of the Mandalorian fleet, stalwart guardians and iron plated behemoths of war and death, their mighty guns turned towards the planet waiting orders of orbital support or trained outwards to combat the remnants of any defending fleet that dared attack the Mandalorian armada.
For many, this was their first battle. For Betna, it was yet another battle of yet another war in which he found himself.
The ramp dropped as the dropship shuddered, signalling a solid landing. As more daylight entered the troop bay, so did enemy fire. The warrior beside him fell, a smoking ruin where the man's chest had been a moment before.
"Shield wall!" came the cry, Betna barely registering it was his own. In a flicker-snap, over a dozen Dinu'ul shields activated and were brought forward.
It was an ancient tactic, one that had been lost the moment firearms had been invented. It was only recently brought back, however, with the advent of hand-held energy shields such as the Dinu'ul. Modern technology, it seemed, could make even the most obsolete tricks very, very viable in today's world.
As the shield wall advanced enemy fire poured into it, the small arms blaster-fire causing little effect against the wall of protective energy. Behind, other warriors disembarked and poured out their own fire, lobbing grenades over the wall or spreading out to the sides, their own gun and blaster fire opening up at the enemy. In a flash, the enemy bunker pinning them down disappeared, the shock of an explosion merely an afterthought to the brightness of the flash. Betna figured someone got lucky with a lobbed grenade and started ordering troops to move and maneuver. There was much to do and little time to do it in.
The dominon of Aeten II had begun.
This was unacceptable.
Aeten II, arguably the most important world lost, was a prime example of this. As soon as Mandalorian influence had faded splinter groups of One Sith warlords, Primeval separatists, and ambitious Vong overlords had flocked to the world seeking the stygium on the planet. With such a valuable resource up in the air with no one holding it, the Mandalorians knew there was only one option: retake it.
Failure was not an option.
Across the system Mandalorian ships descended to the planet below. Some carried troops, others carried diplomats and civilians. Not all the world had fallen to the usurpers and many parts simply needed to see the familiar faceplates of T-shaped visors to be drawn back in. For a few pockets across the planet, however, warriors were the only answer. In the skies above streaked contrails of rockets and starships alike, some dogfighting, others escorting. Higher above still stood the mighty warships of the Mandalorian fleet, stalwart guardians and iron plated behemoths of war and death, their mighty guns turned towards the planet waiting orders of orbital support or trained outwards to combat the remnants of any defending fleet that dared attack the Mandalorian armada.
For many, this was their first battle. For Betna, it was yet another battle of yet another war in which he found himself.
The ramp dropped as the dropship shuddered, signalling a solid landing. As more daylight entered the troop bay, so did enemy fire. The warrior beside him fell, a smoking ruin where the man's chest had been a moment before.
"Shield wall!" came the cry, Betna barely registering it was his own. In a flicker-snap, over a dozen Dinu'ul shields activated and were brought forward.
It was an ancient tactic, one that had been lost the moment firearms had been invented. It was only recently brought back, however, with the advent of hand-held energy shields such as the Dinu'ul. Modern technology, it seemed, could make even the most obsolete tricks very, very viable in today's world.
As the shield wall advanced enemy fire poured into it, the small arms blaster-fire causing little effect against the wall of protective energy. Behind, other warriors disembarked and poured out their own fire, lobbing grenades over the wall or spreading out to the sides, their own gun and blaster fire opening up at the enemy. In a flash, the enemy bunker pinning them down disappeared, the shock of an explosion merely an afterthought to the brightness of the flash. Betna figured someone got lucky with a lobbed grenade and started ordering troops to move and maneuver. There was much to do and little time to do it in.
The dominon of Aeten II had begun.
