Exodus Crash | CIS Invasion of UCM's Eshan Hex

[Valdus Bral]

Location: Eshan City / Palace bridge
Objective: Hold the mouth of the bridge leading to the Palace while Valdus' reserve forces convoy the remaining civilians across the bridge and into the safety of the Eshan Palace.
Opponent: [member="OOM-330"] and any CIS that try to cross the bridge to get to the Eshan Palace.
Post: 3
Battle Theme: Bastion - Two Steps From Hell

Spoiler

Some flavor for the city battle, by no means official. Credit to PRDart .

Valdus watched from the distant rooftop of building that was near the bridge of the Eshan Palace, using his electrobinoculars to keep an eye on how the ambush was proceeding and to give commands to his troops. " Goodwork, verde [soldiers]." His voice was as pleased as one could ascertain from the naturally growling voice. His soldiers heard his compliment, but were trained enough to realize that they were far from done and kept the commlink channel clear. Just as he was complimenting them the bright explosion of AAT fire hitting below the rooftops of his Wardens filled his electrobinoculars. " REPORT!" He shouted into the commlink. Static was momentary and then one of the R-36 droids responded in their syntheized bassy voices, "No casualties, Al'verde. Position integretity: Compromised."

Valdus tapped his helmet's commlink channel button to the encrypted channel for his recon unit that was currently ushering in civillians into undisclosed underground bunkers - most of which were simply duracrete basements with durasteel paneling located at the bottom of business buildings and were not actual wartime bunkers. "Ram'ser, get speeders and roundup the rest of the non-militant Echani and get them to the Palace at once. The city has fallen."

The Ram'ser acted once, shouting at the SLaM droids and Echani Millitia she commanded to use the landspeeders and hover trucks to load up as many who did not fit into the bunker they were at. Once the several dozen Echani civillians were loaded into the vehicles, crammed in and unhappy as they were about it, she ordered for the final sweep of the sector of the city to be scoured - which they were already in. There was no time to waste on having the rescue party thoroughly search each building, instead the Ram'ser and company quickly drove by the buildings they had already searched and looked for stragglers.

Meanwhile, Valdus did not wait for acknowledgement from the Ram'ser - he trusted her training and her judgement - before switching to anotehr commlink channel for his detachment, " Pilots, immediate extraction for the Warden squads, get them off that building." , "Al'verde!", "Advance Guard, advance behind the enemy using building interior's as cover - do not stop for any reason until you reach the last buildings." Again there was a resounding, "Al'verde." From the Advance Guard Sergeants. " Advance Guard Beviin pilots, retreat and take up rear most position behind the Palace, do not engage. Standby for bridge demolition on my order."
The Beviins, despite their heft, were decently fast and soon the two set to extract the Wardens gave a single strafe onto the armor convoy of [member="OOM-330"] with their Heavy Blaster Cannons mounted on each wing tip - two to a Beviin for a total of four heavy blaster cannon bolts. The Beviins' thunderous Ion Drives shook the already structurally compromised city buildings that were about to collapse out from under his comrades. As the Beviin's began to descend their rear facing crew hangar door opened and the Warden squads retreated into them - taking their now deactivated Palisade shield emitters with them.

Since the Advanced Guard were behind the convoy as of now and the AAT escorts were busy bombarding the Eshan City buildings that were being used by the Wardens, the Advance Guard engaged their repulsor boots and jumppacks ready to follow through on their covert relocation. Communicating on their own commlink channels, the two Advance Guard squads sprinted out of the side of the building facing the bridge, busting through any shards of windows that were left and jumping into the next building in line on their way to the bridge. They kept behind the convoy and out of sight as ordered.

Valdus turned away from the scene and began to sprint down the stairwell that led down from the roof he was currently on. Valdus is a large Mandalorian, through the power of his joint motors most of his speed remained. He is still a good deal slower than most infantry however and would take him several minutes to get to the mouth of the Palace Bridge. By the time Valdus got there his Wardens had already setup again on just in front of the bridge. The Cabur Shields on the backs of the R-36 were engaged causing two large deflector shields to block the mouth of the bridge with an inner ring of connected Palisade shields several meters within the Cabur to add a second layer of defense. The Cabur shields were meant to stop blaster and energy based bombardment from artillery pieces while the Palisades were on-demand cover for the Wardens from infantry portable weaponry.

The four Beviin's were already flying behind the Eshan Palace now, taking up hidden positions for the inevitable retreat. Valdus, when he reached his soldiers spoke outloud, with his commlink on, his booming voice carrying over the sounds of the CIS bombardment of the Eshan City and the Echani militia defenders that tried to deny them entry. "We were sent here to rebuild what little damage was dealt by our brothers and sisters when crushing the abhorrent practice of slavery on Eshan. Now these invaders seek to further destroy the planet of Eshan - but this time this planet belongs to the Clans. Before the Echani were our enemies and now they are in our care. Show them what it means to be Mando'ade, show them that the Resol'nare does not exclude those within the protection of a true Mandalorian - fight as if they are your family, protect them as you would your own ... or you are no vod of mine and I will cut you down as I expect any of you would cut down a Hut'uun!" The word "Hut'uun was forced, a bark almost, the disgust in Valdus' voice was obvious and mixed with anger at the thought that any one of his soldiers may defect now. The soldiers were silent as he spoke, there was a long pause with the MTT's and the AAT's behind him in the distance, closing the gap. " We hold this bridge and we do what we can for these people, our people. If this bridge should fall then we fallback to the Palace steps and blow this kriffin bridge into a smoldering crater."

He was pacing now, looking at his elite guard, " You are among the bravest and most formidable I know. I do not intend to lose any of you, but if we should not make it back to Mandalore, if we should fail, know that we will meet in Manda. We will not fight to the man here and will do what is right for the citizens in our care, if that should be our retreat from this bridge or the palace under threat of orbital bombardment or heavy artillery, so be it - we will fallback. Our missions is to keep the citizens alive." A few seconds went by as his soldiers let his words sink in. As they understood it, they were to defend this bridge tooth and nail, give ground where necessary, and hold when possible - all the while balancing this with the idea that they should aim to keep the citizens alive; this was a difficult task that would be trying even for the elite soldiers.

Just as this speech was wrapping up and Valdus turned around the convoy of hover trucks and landspeeders zoomed past the Cabur shields and through the gap in the Warden squads. While only momentary he saw that the forefront landspeeder's driver was his Ram'ser. " Vod, that is our charge, that is our mission. Make the Mand'alor proud of our efforts today."

Spoiler

MAIN FORCE: Defending the mouth of the Palace bridge with Cabur & Palisade shields. Providing cover to the convoy of Echani civilians.

Commander: Valdus Bral
================
Troops:
M. Adv. Guard (12/12) [veteran shocktroop]
M. Adv. Guard (12/12) [veteran shocktroop]
--------------------
Elite:
M. Ram'ser (1/1) [elite recon sniper]
M. Wardens (11+1 Super H. Droid [12/12]) [elite point defense]
M. Wardens (11+1 Super H. Droid [12/12]) [elite point defense]
----------------------
Transport:
Beviin H. Transport (4/4) [heavy transport]
-----------------------------
49 Infantry, 4 Transports


RESERVE FORCE: Escorting the civilians across the Palace bridge with the Ram'ser supervising.
=============
Troops:
Echani Militia (50/50) [Recruit Militia]
SLAM droids (25/25) [Trained Infantry]
---------------
75 infantry

Summary:
Valdus' forces have fallen back to the bridge that connects the city to the Palace of Eshan. There he awaits the coming tide of CIS opposition forces spearheaded by the 330'th Droid Battalion lead by [member="OOM-330"] . Meanwhile, a convoy of lightly armored and civilian speeders race through Valdus' lines and across the bridge in attempt to find refugee within the walls of the Palace. Valdus and his forces are prepared to fight the good fight and have made contingency plans.

 

[Subject 5]

Allies: The Mando Empire
Enemies: The CIS | Walls | [member="Helly Reyne"] | [member="Valencia Hadley"]
Location: Central Eshan City
Objective: Get outta dodge
Equipment: Plastoid Breastplate | 4x Thermal Detonators | Briefcase | DL-44 Blaster Pistol (x)


“Move it!” Fives snarled to the civilians rushing past him. He felt them shouldering in and around him, as they stampeded toward the evacuation shelter, “Come on!” He barked, firing twice into the air, “Get your arses inside!” He seemingly parted the Echani in that moment, a small perimeter spreading around the bounty hunter. Good. Fives had formulated his master plan. The appearance of CIS drop pods had spurred his innovation. The plan, at least for now was simple. First and foremost, he was going to get out of this damned place. Wait it out for a bit, and then leave once the dust settled. Barter his way off on some transport and see where he could go. Maybe somewhere in the Core. Perhaps, back to the Outer Rim. In any case, Fives was preoccupied on one thing. Transport.

As the civilians thinned out, Fives saw a collection of speeders, some crashed, most of them parked in the middle of the boulevard, abandoned by their occupants in their rush for cover from the fighting. Perfect. Fives now had his pick of the litter, passing through and around the family sedans. They wouldn’t do. No, no, he needed style, panesh. Pazazz even. Moving in and around the streets, packed with empty vehicles. Fives strode around, conscious of the distant sounds of blaster fire, reverberating through the streets. He winced, pausing briefly, trying to triangulate the position of the fighting from his position. North. North West, perhaps. But the fighting would move. Always did. And as such, Fives moved to the nearest speeder. An M-68, he could identify it, but it seemed the owner had made some modifications. Engine unit seemed to be suped a little, with a large engine block attached to back, obscuring rear view vision.

Fives jumped into the luxurious leather front seat, and then secured his briefcase on the passenger's seat, sliding the seatbelt over it and taking care to tighten it. Fives ducked underneath the dashboard, and slipped a panel open. The bounty hunter pulled cords out, feeling the buzz of electricity run through his body, as he began to spark the engine. The bounty hunters brow furled in frustration, until the growl hit, with the engine roar. Fives slid back into the drivers seat, and then put his hands on the wheel, steering in and around the nearby speeders, before rounding a corner. Fives floored it.

Freedom. This was it, “Yeehaw!” Fives screamed at the top of his lungs, as he streaked down the empty avenues. Fives reached into the glove box, seeing if there was anything, and there was. Cigarettes. Fives slid it into his mouth, and kept driving, wind running through his blonde hair, as he flew through the streets. However, as he continued to drive through, he slowed down, as the cacophony of battle drew closer. His whole body clenched in fear as he rode through close to the outer suburbs. In the distance, he could see the marching of CIS battle droids, a familiar sight from his time on Tatooine. Seeing the deployment of these units, Fives pressed forward, and slammed the accelerator.
Fives could see that he was hitting the outskirts, the buildings were becoming shorter and shorter. From vast skyscrapers to apartments, to houses and hovels. Freedom was close, but caution was to be adhered to. Fives’ attention was stuck unto his sides, him gazing left and right, making sure he didn’t run into a patrol of marauding droids. His body was frigid, and he briefly turned to look at what was on his left, before he realised what was in front. Some kind of encampment. Fives pulled on the brakes, but it would not stop. He pulled harder, and harder, but he kept hurtling at speed. Five hundred meters, four hundred….

Sweat creased his brow, as he snapped the brake lever. “Chit!” He cursed, looking around. He clasped the steering wheel and began trying to turn, but ended up spinning. His landspeeder spinning around and around in circles. As one last desperate attempt to get the attention of the oncoming group, Fives slammed the horn. “Out of the way!” He screamed, his view becoming increasingly mystifying as he spun around and around like a record. “Out of the-!” The speeder slammed into the medical encampments eastern portion, crashing into a drop pod, and crushing several logistics droids with it. Fives head slammed into the wheel with such force when he crashed, his skin broke. “Out…. of…..the…..way…..” He panted, before collapsing, exhausted.

 

[Vera Mina]

Objective: Scourge (Butcher Mandalorians)

Post: 2

After butchering the inhabitants of one tent, and most of the perimeter guard, Vera had deliberately started fires in another tent, using two live patients as kindling by dumping surgical chemicals on the paralyzed, then shooting them to ignite the mess. She quickly cleared out of course...fire and her tissues were a huge no-no. Exiting the tent she immediately opened fire on the last remaining defenders of the camp, who had taken cover behind various medical crates, the fires spreading from tent to tent, to the horror of those too weak to escape. Her targeting protocols were geared to work with most production or improvised fire arms, and she instinctively knew how to compensate for both kick and weight as her x-ray mode allowed her to see them through cover, her bolts going through the crates and destroying the medical supplies within, then hitting her attackers on vital points in the armor, the spaces inbetween joints, for the folly of attempting to shoot through Mandalorian plating was well known and a waste of tibanna.

Her enhanced hearing detected movement behind her just as she finished killing her previous attackers. The familiar hums of vibro-weaponry.

Vera's katana came out and she was suddenly parrying and blocking strikes from wounded survivors armed with vibro-double blades. A bloodthirsty grin was plastered on her face as she whipped and spun this way and that, her vibro-katana humming through the air, her targeting protocols guiding even how her blade was swung, her database calculating the best way to defend against attacks.

It wasn't perfect though. A tip, the faintest tip of one sword, got past a suit enhanced Vera.

She did not feel pain. She was not designed to. But the tip graced her face, splitting it open, and a massive amount of white blood spilled out as Vera was partially blinded, the masquer that served as her flesh tearing open. The underlay her combat dress was made with immediately stopped further loss of blood but the tissue hung loosely in ragged flaps along the right of her face, the milky white muscles of the biot underneath exposed to the air.

"It's not a chiss!" one of them yelled as she parried another two strikes from her attempted killers, at last understanding just how serious the threat was, as he had come across Saotome products of this sort before.

"Android! ANDROID!" another shouted as she successfully impaled the biot through the torso, missing it's spine by an inch. Vera vomited white blood as she was violently rammed into a security wall. Though she could not feel pain, her brain still needed the white blood that doubled as muscle lubricant to remain functional. Any disruption to her circulation would start to affect her brain if it could not get proper blood same as any other being. Also, if her systems were too damaged, they could not produce more blood, leading to her needing to feed or be repaired.

But being a biot has its advantages, especially when wearing a dress whose underlay was designed to stop bleeding immediately.

The Biot parried three death blows, though killing her initial impaler first by tossing the knife through the visor of her attacker. Yanking the sword out care fully and spilling more white blood, Vera used both it and her own katana to parry and run through one of the survivors, leaving her katana in the victim and using the sword staff and spinning it around her body as she seemed to dance to her mandalorian victims, gliding past and around their blows, being they sword or hand to hand, or even blaster. Some of their armor, already damaged from prior conflicts had damage that she exploited, the sadistic grin never leaving her face as she spilled gore throughout the camp, her hands and legs a blur, slamming and slicing into bodies, drenching herself in gore.

The strongest survivors were attempting to buy time for the wounded, only to be cut down by shots from Vera's pistol inbetween being a humanoid lawnmower, using her enhanced hearing to help compensate for a non functional eye. She left a few alive, crawling around in agony too injured to fight any further amid the piles of gore left in her wake. Anyone else was left in tents or the temporary shelters housing portable bacta tanks.

Vera's bloodthirst had taken hold of her completely. Even after she had killed the last active attacker she still kept hacking at the corpses.

As she rent flesh apart with her double sword, a sudden insight, a rare one which stretched the limits of its processors to properly contemplate.

Her creator had once belonged to an ancient clan infamous for their bloodthirst and cruelty to their enemies. But as time passed, the cruel philosophy of her family--known amongst them as The Dark Five Rings--had given way to a more tempered and measured philosophy, one that Nine had slipped free of. But still adhered to on some level. Now that she thought of it, if Nine was the embodiment of the modern interpretation--that meant Vera's very personality was meant to reflect the ancient version taken to its extreme.

In a way...that meant she was as much a member of the clan as Nine was, maybe even more so.

Her vision and hearing blurred for a second, and Vera knew she had to feed.

The biot lurched forward, its systems starting to become disrupted as it advanced on a survivor crawling away.

The lacerated survivor wheeled around on the biot just as Vera started to sprint. Her reflexes spotted the move and she turned to evade but still caught a good amount of the blast of cryo spray, which came as a white gas, just as her vibrosword cut it's nozzel off.

She staggered, her flesh streching and rippling like water, becoming translucent. The suit had been designed to protect from some cryo damage.

Some.

But with the damage she had already sustained, in addition to her natural weakness to cold temperatures, that meant Vera was in trouble as she vomited more blood, staggering away, making involuntary squealing sounds that didn't sound human as she malfunctioned, staggering away, as the heavily wounded survivor went for a shotgun, forcing himself to stand out of sheer will and trying to go after the biot...

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyle Weir
Eshan Surface
Nearby: [member="Alkor Centaris"]

In a respectful hand, the gauntlet slides zipper to precipice of Rubber bag up and over a cold and stiff Human occupant. Kyle is not bothered by the sight, the Sergeant had attended the scene of many a dead person and in their military career created more than a few corpses so many in-fact they had ceased counting once the number exceeded their ability to count on fingers. Forced to pause and take a deep breath, it was a strange involuntarily notion but Kyle had little desire to leave the middle-aged man's plastic sarcophagus for a moment, they had sported a wedding band on their finger pondering the idea of family uncertain in how to greet the idea. Looming in silence above the three ranks of bags, a droid assistant comes along and begins lifting them into the back of an unarmed albeit armoured repulsor vehicle in a featureless white with caduceus symbol featured in prominent red upon Durasteel hull sides.

"That should be the last of our Coruscanti Citizens and Permanent Residents" Kyle thought to themselves in their wordless brooding their grim attendance to an Echani morgue's loading area prompted by the presence of those whom duty demanded be repatriated for their homeland, Coruscant Security Force had sent a small team of no more than eight Security Officers to secure their precious Citizenry even as Kyle noted one or two had warrants, the information for said warrants slid with a ponderous steadiness across the hololithic display just under the tall ballistic collar hovering around Kyle's chin and nape. "Hmph, Typical." Kyle 's voiceless sneered contempt for these individuals is fleeting, smashing their left gauntlet against the side of ambulance twice after its' belly had been filled with stiffs. Blink-activating the comlink glyph on helmet-mounted display behind their two brass-coloured lenses. "Get back to the ship."

Colin sitting behind its' controls threw up an unseen salute and Kyle could hear the grin on young officer's face, offering up a dark jest. "Meatwagon, rolling out!" Kyle thought Colin would have to work on his humour still, the dour and grim Sergeant could not help but allow the faintest smirk to rise in corners of mouth. Their footsteps carried Kyle with loud metallic thuds in direction of speeder bike with a rolled cotton and polyester bundle with blankets stuffed between its' rolls tied to the rear. Howling on the wind has the two distinct eye-lenses set into helmet crack skywards scanning for the familiar source, their gene-enhanced sight piercing the clouds without assistance from helmet vision filters. "Drop-pods?" Kyle's tongue snarls angrily, studying their features in greater resolution as they thunderously descent towards the scarred and burnt Earth. "Confederate Drop-Pods!?" Over their shared comm-channel reactions from fellow officers followed swiftly.

"Weir, get your arse out of there! I don't want the damn Commissioner or Mayor crying to me about how I left your damn body on Eshan, now move it!" A voice belonging to bald-headed superior comes into ears with a truly irritating buzz, Kyle throws legs on either side of speeder-bike with a long marksman rifle slung over shoulder. Other weapons visibly stored across surface of beige-coloured repulsor bike that hums softly above the morgue's sun-cracked ferrocrete road, features that Kyle would not have thought remarkable if they stood on Thrysus rather than Eshan. Hands ignite motor dynamos with a sonorous pleasant 'whirr' at which point their boot shifts up into first gear simultaneously giving those handlebars beneath fingers a harsh twist. Kyle's durasteel steed circles around an already demolished courtyard in the centre of an arterial road with a Mandalorian Checkpoint one one side, and down the ferrocrete highway some three-hundred meters Confederate pods slam into the pock-marked road inflicting further suffering on the world of Eshan.

The Confederates emerge with Kyle's swift passing their ears catch a dolorous war cry from their occupants which Sergeant Weir detects as Mandalorian in origin and throws a glance back with both hands still on handlebars rather confused. "Damn savages." The level of contempt Kyle levels within thoughts towards Mandalorians surpasses even their loathing for criminals, was there really a difference with this people? Who historically had proven themselves to feed off a diet consisting of indiscriminate conflict, war and suffering. Even as the Breeze warped around Kyle's helmet their modified and predatory hearing could still make out the piggish porcine war cries of beasts butchering one-another, the sound of their tongue forces bile to involuntarily rise in Sergeant Weir's stomach for all they knew it is the sound of barbarians joining arms and dancing in a spastic circle around campfire.

Equipment stored in saddlebags and Kyle's body rattle loudly in the breeze with Sergeant Weir zooming above the Echani Highway only to speed in direction of another Empire checkpoint set-up in the wake of annexation to find a pair of green lasers reach down from the sky and cut through it in an ostentatious explosion right as Kyle reached for their passport. "Oh come on!" The warhawk who obliterated that small collection of sandbags and its' boom-gate disgorged a team of Beskar-Clad goons one of who brandishes a rather distinctive sword that catches Kyle's attention, their speeder-bike grinds to a hard halt. Whilst this Warrior and their team of Mandalorians assaulted some multi-story building used as a barracks by their wayward kin, Sergeant Weir's onboard computer assesses sensor data from that one armoured individual curiously wielding a lightsabre.

The computer came back with a wanted man's identity. "Warning, Potential Suspect: Warmaster Alkor Centaris of the Mandalorian Empire. Arrest Warrant: Issued by Echani Command, Mandalorian Provisional Government and CORSECFOR. Charges: Multiple counts of Genocide and Homicide." Kyle recognizes the name, biting back the poison that floods their maw the Sergeant angrily pulls steel key from ignition in a fast precise motion. "You've got to be kidding me......They want me to hunt down and arrest somebody in this mess?!" brandishing a pair of stun-cuffs in left-hand Kyle leaps from the torn leather saddle through the air over the long lance-like prongs and lands on the ferrocrete sprinting with a speed across it that simply defied the physiological limits of what should have been possible for a Human. Though as the Sergeant's colleagues accurately suspect, Kyle is anything but Human they'd been forged into a peerless weapon through genetic engineering by the odious First Order.

Held in a firm grip against shoulder in right-hand is a "Marksman" Rifle which in truth was a re-purposed G-12A, a First Imperial manufactured and issued rifle though none on the current battlefield had any hope of recognizing such a thing, nor did Kyle's comrades and when asked about details for this ominous rifle that looked like it somehow thirsted for warfare and bloodshed the Sergeant was nothing but deflective, claiming they'd found it on some Outer Rim Market. Kyle throws themself with effortless ease over Highway's railing down two meters without so much as a grunt of discomfort into some waist-high foilage advancing swiftly their boots flicking back a trail of soil in their wake. Kyle decides to sequester away the stuncuffs back into their basketweave fire-proofed pouch for now adopting a more stable two-handed grip on weapon, coming up a steep snow, tree and shrub covered incline to rest upon a high plateau reaching towards the sky like a spear thrust towards heavens. Kyle brings Warmaster Centaris and his troops into the view of Optic Sight, the Sergeant's body buries itself in a rocky cove filled with snow and dead leaves.

Blink-activating their Security Team Comlink. "Negative on your last Colonel, I'm staying behind to perform surveillance on an offender my Computer might have identified. A 'Warmaster Centaris' Open Warrant issued by several governments for their arrest. We should bring them back with us to Coruscant and extradite him as appropriate after the conflict has ended." Kyle replied, their firm tone boldly brooked no protestation from their Officer Commanding the Sergeant would be staying and will hear no word to the contrary. Colonel Wilso laughed at his subordinates' heroic defiance with a smile, admiring Weir's devotion to unflinching Justice despite the sheer risk that came with subduing a wanted individual with such grand and even intimidating title. Though Kyle could not see him, Wilso looked at a holoscreen with his large fat hands placed thoughtfully on hips, musing with a sound from pursed lips for a moment before nodding bare-head approvingly the Colonel's blue eyes fixed on Kyle's tab on the TEAM Readout within hull of shuttle.

Wilso with a barely contained grin on his face authorises the Sergeant's enthusiasm although truthfully he doubted refusal would yield a different result, for Weir nothing short of total Justice would be satisfactory it would seem, even if it had to be pursued at great personal risk. "Name rings a bell, he's a key suspect in quite a few war crime cases opened by our friends in impacted jurisdictions. Apprehend him if possible, and I'll come collect you both. Remember Sergeant Weir, once you have him in custody. You have a duty of care. I have enough paperwork when it comes to importing the bodies of our Citizens through customs, don't make my job any bloody harder by adding another one to the count, that's an Order." Colonel Wilso's once amused face tugs into a gentle scowl his laugh lines creasing in deep skin impacts, deaths in custody was no laughing matter, especially one of a Foreign Citizen and the Colonel desired none of the bureaucratic nightmare contained therein. Sergeant Weir was exceeding their mission here, and though Colonel Wilso found their dedication to duty and justice admirational, extraordinary even that wouldn't be enough to satisfy certain people should the Warmaster wind up dead. And dead he could very well end up should he choose to resist Sergeant Weir when the time came, the Colonel mentally recalls in a mix of shock and awe the sight of Weir standing triumphant over no less than nine Trandoshan assailants within the Coruscant Underworld, utterly ignoring the one or two knives that had been lodged into their body.

 

[Kainan Wolfe]

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Soundtrack: Killzone - Birth of War​

Gear: Vestments of the Reaper | Wither | Shroudsaber | The Triad | Personal Molecular Shield | The All-Seeing Eye​

Attn: [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Adron Malvern"] | [member="Elessar Talon"] | [member="The Avenger"] | [member="Salij-Nekt"] | [member="Tellu Talon"] | [member="Spencer Jacobs"] Enemy: [member="Darth Banshee"]​

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Spoiler: 131st Ultranaut Regiment

• 5000 Ultranauts
• 680 Combat Engineers
• 40 Pyronauts
• 4 AM-AT "Centipede" Siege Walkers
• 28 AM-SV "Spider" Strike Walkers
• 1 TX-1 War Droid
• 12 AP-AT "Crimson Fire" Tanks
• 240 E-Series Xiphos IFVs
• 5 Ruinous Worms
• 2 Psi Corps Operatives
  
  Ships:
• 6 Sigma-class Heavy Assault Dropships (Transport)
• 120 Styx-class Dropships (Transport)
• 36 I-3A Lance Fighters (3 Squadrons - Air Support)
• 12 Death Gliders (1 Squadron - Air Support)

• Eshan
  The ruins of a broken world

Mandalorians. Well known for their prowess as warriors, feared for their skill and tenacity, once respected for their honor until they made themselves the puppets of the Sith and burned Eshan, hiding behind its broken corpses and battered survivors like cowards. Still, throughout the galaxy's long history, only a few could match them in discipline and martial prowess. They had rightly earned the reputation of peerless warriors. Not in many years had they encountered a foe that could match their tenacity and grit. Not in millenia had they encountered a foe that could match them in spirit as well as in metal.

But they had never faced Ultranauts before.

On the other side of the galaxy, nestled deep within the Confederacy that had made its home in the Southern Systems, another nation was rising. They were a people unlike any other the galaxy had ever seen. Forged in the fiery crucible of war, hammered upon the anvil of hardship and tempered in the churning waters of the galaxy's adversity. They had once faced what Eshan was now facing and they had emerged from it a changed people.

Where most nations sought comfort and fled from hardship, they embraced it. Where others sought leisure and laziness, they sought out challenge and hard work. Where the galaxy sought peace, they embraced war and lived and died by it. They were a people unlike anything the galaxy had ever seen before. Hard, efficient, disciplined.

Across many worlds they had waged their wars and never did their hands waver. Never had they shown mercy to a foe, or asked to be given such. And never had they turned their back on an ally or broken a promise that they made. They were the hardest of the Confederacy's many iron fists and amongst the most feared. And today, their ships cut red streaks across a world's sky once more.

The Eternal Empire had come to Eshan.

A silent figure stood by Srina's side, to her right and at a short distance, surveying the troops deployed from their dropships. Thousands of soldiers, accompanied by massive, lumbering war machines. Centipede siege walkers made their trek across the land, their multi-jointed legs and segmented bodies easily navigating their way across the ground as they found their positions. Spider walkers skittered across, darting from one formation to another while hundreds of Xiphos infantry fighting vehicles wound their way between the myriad of soldiers arranging themselves on the ground before his eyes.

Crimson Fire tanks took up their positions, ready to unleash salvos of missiles upon any enemy armor that dared to challenge them. They now fired smoke canisters over the ground in front of the encampment, forming a protective screen to hide their movements from the enemy. And at the heart of the hundred formations of soldiers and vehicles stood a towering behemoth over a hundred meters tall, the ground shaking with each step it took. A TX-1 war droid, a massive engine of destruction with enough firepower to rival some cruisers. And yet, beyond the humming of the engines, there was no sound. Not a word was spoken, not a shout and not a whisper dared disturb the eerie silence.

Heavy cloak swishing in the wind, the Emperor's cat-like golden eyes swept across the formation. Behind him, a pair of whispy demons lingered in the shadows. And yet, today, his Eternal Empire had come as liberators, not destroyers and they were bearing gifts. Tens of thousands of weapons would be distributed to the Echani resistance, everything from assault rifles to pistols and grenades. Satisfied by what he saw, he crossed the distance to where the Confederacy's rulers stood, eyes drifting from the Vicelord mounted on his war beast, to his brother who stood surrounded by his droids, greeting each with a silent, solemn nod. He gave a single nod to the Anubian warrior who had served the Ancient Eye with him, so long ago, returning to the fold at least for now.

He greeted Srina last, as he shared a closer bond with her than with any of those assembled. His feline eyes found hers as his hand rose to gently squeeze her shoulder, as if to tell her that she was not alone in this, her darkest hour. She was his closest friend and confidant, of course he would not leave her to face this battle alone. His gifts to her had been the sword and suit of armor she now carried, both forged in the deepest vaults beneath his fortress, both powerful tools of the Darkside that were meant to keep her safe. He understood the plight of Eshan's people, sympathized with their suffering and saw in them potential allies and valuable recruits for his army. But above all, he was here for her.

With the greetings done, he slipped back into the role of warlord and ruler, walking down the ramp with deliberate, confident steps. Five thousand silent soldiers greeted him with a single rap of fists against their chestplates, the salute breaking the silence like a thunderclap tearing through a stormcloud. A single soldier approached him, carrying a weathered, battered flag that bore the scars of a hundred battles, scars his people displayed as marks of pride. There would be no speeches, as such things were reserved for parade grounds, to give his people hope, or for the enemy, to give them fear. This was not the time, or place for either.

Instead, he reached out with a taloned hand, clawed fingers seizing the flag from the soldier's hands as he strode forward and stopped, having taking his first step on Echani soil. Once more, his eyes surveyed his soldiers and then he raised his arm and drove the flag down, impaling it into the ground as his lips parted to shout a single word. "Kathr'haya!" he boomed, the battlecry cutting through the silence like a sword. In High Nelvaanian, the language of his Empire's harsh and frozen world, the word meant a single, yet profound thing: war, eternal.

 

[Salij-Nekt]

Ally: [member="Darth Tacitus"]
Enemy: [member="Skorvek"]

Salij-Nekt had come a long way to meet with his ally from long ago, [member="Darth Tacitus"]. The Anubian was wearing his ceremonial Duranium armor, armed with his long laminasteel axe and his lightsaber. He was armed for combat, yet he had not planned to fight in this battle. No, he had come for another reason. He did not plan to fight for these people, he was here for one. One being that had been rumored to be here, that he had tracked down. Someone with the Mandalorians that he had heard little about. But this being, he knew very well. Salij was ready for them, or so he believed.

The Anubian nodded back to his ally in this matter, Tacitus. Among the many forces Salij stood, looking them all over. They were well disciplined to be sure. Of course in his mind, he thought they lacked the ferocity of an Anubian warrior. As soon as he had touched down, Salij had sensed the presence of the one he had come for. As Tacitus let out his battle cry, Salij beat a fist to his chest to add to it. Then, he turned to his ally.

"I sense them...if I do not return, assume the worst and that I went out as a warrior. But send no help, for he shall be mine" Salij turned to the horizon. The sky was darkened. Perfect for such an encounter. Taking a speeder he had borrowed for this case, the warrior rode off in the direction. Being sure to let his presence be known to the one he sought out through the force, to let them know that he was coming. "Skorvek...old friend. Be ready."

 

[Kurenai Yumi]

Location: Drop Pod->Eshan
Allied Peps: TBA
Opposing Peps: @Kylo Kyr'am
Equipment: Shatory Reishūkaku, Mk1 Shadow Rifle, LightSaber, OSA, H.T.E Blaster Pistol

Each step she took along ground zero send a small crunch echoing into the empty streets, the odd burnt body coming into view. It was quite the ghost city the only sign of life being the flashes of light in the heavens as the two fleets battled it out for air superiority. In the distance thuds and cracks of a fire fight and other ships making their landing resonated, seems her insertion had gone unnoticed for the time being.

She could not sense many force signatures among the Mando's such was to be expected with thei'r 'cure' and hatred for those that used such power but she could still smell them. Over the burning smoke the scent of man and women was still present and closer then she had expected, a group, not far from here, probably landed not long ago. All close to one another aside from an individual of sorts, their scent seemed to be closer like that had somewhat separated from their squad.

Easily avoidable but her mission wasn't to be sneaky, it was to fight, to crush any ME resistance in her path while advancing towards the palace, this person would serve as a nice warm up. Giving her limbs a littler stretch she zeroed in on her new target, the streets slowly returning to a more intact look, in time the women's blue gaze in time falling upon the mans beskar garb, typical mandaloiran armor with all the bells and whistles. Not something she wanted to go up against without a decent advantage, and hopefully right now such an advantage was stealth.

Un-holstering her MK1 rifle she aimed it's sights onto the Mando's chest, holding it for a few seconds before pressing down on the trigger. Her arms would tense up for a moment as the disruption fired off it's round, a bright streak exciting the barrel and cascading towards her target. Her battle and involvement in this invasion was now beginning.

 

[Kylo Kyr'am]

Kylo Kyr'am
Alor'ad

Inventory:
Beskar'gam
Twin Westar Pistols
Custom Blaster Rifle
Beskad

Objective: Annihilate CIS
Opponent: [member="Kurenai Yumi"]

Kylo doing surveillance as whatever Kaine Australis did to darken the sky. Kylo watched the light be blocked out. Kylo thought this was an interesting play. Then a scanner went off on Kylo's HUD. Someone was targeting him. Kylo quickly begun looking around trying to find the target. Kylo then felt a blaster bolt hit his chest plate. Kylo grunted at the impact looking for it's source. Kylo saw it. Kurenai Yumi. Kylo pointed his blaster at her, looked through the scope, aiming directly at her heart and squeezed the trigger shooting a 3 round burst at his target.

Kylo then quickly fired another 3 round burst making it 6 shots at his target. Kylo then stood up right watching for the hit.

​

 

[Mig Gred]

Location: Hyperspace to Eshan
Objective: Defend Eshan from the CIS Invasion in the valleys.
Equipment: Light Mandalorian Armor, Lightsaber Trayc'kad, Trayc'kal
Forces:



Allies: M.E., Sanya Val Lerium
Opponents: CIS, Celiana , Kat Decoria

Mig eyed his mando'ad'jetii and clanmates as they prepared. Mynock, who thanks to being a droid ranked as one of the oldest members of Clan Gred, was getting the armor crews moving, pointing out the various locations nearby.

"Ok. Claymores, you need to get into hull down positions. Only expose your guns and wait targets. Princeps, I want 4 scouts, and the rest of you have the same orders as the Claymores. Arachnids, Yomas, hold here for further orders." The vod may have been a droid, but he was still family to the alor. Meanwhile, the head mando'ad'jetii looked back over at the others before hearing the repulsors and engines coming near. He looked up to see five transports approaching. Sanya Val Lerium he presumed. She had said she was following him in, and, well, they kinda crashed close to the planned site anyway. Ilik stayed close in his honestly odd looking armor, white with red crosses to make his role as medic obvious to anyone. Liddin stay with the other Force users, being sure they were ready for the coming fight. Ilik eyed Mig, quickly speaking up.

"Liddin told me what was going on earlier" Mig sighed, watching the ramp lower.

"I'll be fine, ruug'la jag (old man)." He took a breath, doing his best to keep himself centered before the coming battle. He couldn't let himself lose it now. If he did, he could accidentally harm someone. He had already missed something here that led his cousin to his death, and this put Mig on edge. He didn't want to have another call like that on his shoulders. Right now though, he watched as Lerium's vod ran out of the transports. He looked through them all until he saw the fellow Mandalorian he was looking for. "Sanya Val Lerium, it's a pleasure to meet you, though I wish the circumstances were better."

 

[Adron Malvern]

Location: Descending down to Eshan
Objectives: Clear the Mandalorians from the city
Tags: [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Darth Novus"]
Theme: Link
Equipment:

Spoiler

• Crimson Dread
• Winter
• Lightsaber
• Holocomm
• ND-012 Ri Qorit Disabler

It seemed that more and more Confederate troops were descending down to the planet. As the Droid legions mobilized over the world, Darth Malphas watched with some intrigue. It was always fascinating to see the moments before battle. It was like gazing at a painting before it was burned to ash, wiping away all that had been. Hopefully today it would be the Mandalorians who were burned away, and not this world. He turned his gaze behind him, where the legions of the Eternal Empire were preparing to take the city before them. His eyes befell the Titan that stood high over all others. A monstrous droid of terrifying design. The droid had been designed by the uncle of Malphas and his elder brother, [member="Darth Tacitus"]. Even to see it now, Malphas worried what would happen if such weapons were ever taken from the Eternal Empire and turned to their enemies. He did not give the thought much life as his brother approached, yet carrying the weight of his Empire. He saw the nod his brother gave and Malphas returned it silently. There were no words that need be shared between them, they had both been sent here as bringers of death and champions of life, now was the time for action, words could come later. ​

I'm tired of waiting.

The Dark Side of the Force wrapped itself around the Exarch has he took his first steps into the city. Some Confederate forces had already moved into the city, moving to secure Eshan's heart and claim it for her people.

The Magnaguard who stood by his side moved in unison, their metallic feet leaving slight echoes as they slammed into the ground. The streets had been cleared, for the most part. As Malphas and his advance force moved closer he could not help but level his eyes to the buildings that surrounded him. Those Echani who had been in the streets were either removing themselves to their homes or had already abandoned the city for the safety of the outskirts. Darth Malphas found himself standing in the center of the street, his eyes scanning over the nearby block of buildings. It had been so quiet, far too quiet for the Mandalorians to be here. "Scatter." He ordered, watching as his Magnaguard fanned out, moving to search the nearby streets.

 

[Helly Reyne]

Location: Medical encampment outside of the capital
Objective: Lend aid to whoever is dragged out of the battle
Allies: CIS and allies, [member="Valencia Hadley"]
Enemies: Mandalorian Empire, [member="Subject 5"]?
Gear: Dual lightsabers, stun blaster pistol


As the chaos ensued, the sound of a speeder horn caught her off guard. It was spinning wildly towards her camp with no sign of stopping, and there she was, a deer caught in its headlights. She pulled the medical bed as far as she could away from the impending crash as some of her droids were wrecked in the process. They could be repaired later, but the jawas with her couldn't. Thankfully, the only one to be caught in the way had flattened himself against the ground as it slid over the top of him, shouting something in Jawaese when it was all over.

Smoke and dust filled the air as it quieted down. Helly took in the sight of what had been destroyed, and her fists clenched to see that it was a lot. The camp would need to be set up again and the wreckage of the droids that were victim to the crash would need to be hauled off for later repairs. Whoever was responsible seemed almost entirely out of commission, blood rushing down from his forehead. He could have been Mandalorian, or part of the CIS, or maybe he was just caught up in all of the mayhem. Regardless, he didn't seem like he was in any condition to do any further harm, so she hesitantly gave the order to get him onto one of the empty beds. Strapped down, preferably, though the situation was still as unpredictable as ever. He did at least try to warn them, though...

"Uh..." she uttered as she and her medical droids grew closer. "We're gonna help you, okay?" As she spoke to the man, she noticed others from the larger medical camp beside them coming over to take a look at what happened. Maybe someone among them had a better idea of what the hell was going on. [member="Valencia Hadley"] may have been better equipped to deal with this one, especially now that her camp had been partially ruined and needed more time to be set up again.

 

[Cynthia Solus]

Location: Out side the City scouting the CIS Medical encampment
Objective: Lend aid to whoever is dragged out of the battle
Allies: ME, [member="Helly Reyne"]
Enemies: Cis
Gear: In sig


Cynthia laid prone in the tall grass, a scope trained on the position and what looked like CIS droids holding echani hostage or giving aid from this distance it was hard to tell. It was set up very much like the ones her people had set up to evaluate the echani and ensure their wounds was taken care of. The CIS was nothing but invaders assaulting and kidnapping echani they brought the mandalorians back here and they brought the war that's raging on now. Unlike all war, Cynthia faced the burden of watching, scouting, searching and rescuing. There was several camps scattered in the area and all of them seemed to be the same MO. Some had more droids some had less. Right now she was watching one of the few that had less and even jawa's. That made her question why bring jawa's.

She watched for some time till someone she knew revealed her self. "Wait isn't that..." "Yeah that's her Ca. The feth is she doing with these." "I don't know." "Yeah well i'm going to find out." She said conversing with Ca. Cynthia stood up knowing she did not count many droids and the jawa's could hardly put up a fight. Slowly Cynthia walked towards the camp keeping her sniper in hand in case she was to be attacked. It seemed they was all to busy and this was one of the camps. It would be unlikely they'd be watching for a person to walk up from behind.

As the Mandalorian woman was close she slung her weapon over her into the large holster for the sniper that was covered by flowing red cape. "Ca keep motion sensors active." She asked staying out the sight of as many as possible till she spotted Helly. The woman had just gone into a tent. There was a few droids stood guard. taking a deep breath Cynthia revealed herself, hand close to her beskad in case they attacked. "I'm here to see Helly Rayne." She said wondering if she was about to either be defending her life or seeing the woman she had shared intimate moments with.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Location: Eshan City, outskirts
Allies: [member="Ryndrae Talon"]
Enemies: ME, [member="Rhaegar Nemesis Dib"]
Other: [member="Kyle Whir"]


Voices he did not recognize blared orders in his ears. Topographic overlays of the city streets appeared before his eyes, spinning and outlining various strategic points throughout the reeling metropolis. Eshan City was a wounded animal, and the Echani that bled out from it like desperate antibodies trying to stabilize their chaotic world. Alkor concentrated on his own task, different from the politicking and thronebreaking of the Viceroyalty.

He shifted channels to the more pertinent local feed. Instantly rewarded with updates about several firefights and a riot that seemed to grow by the second, he looked around for any sign of the enemy. Who would be leading the defensive? Who would try to ward off the Confederate onslaught and maintain their foothold on Eshan? A number of names came to mind, faces he never wanted to see again and shame he did not want to face. He pushed that from his mind as bolts screeched through the air and assailed his position. Dauntless troops held fast behind rubble left behind during the orbital attack several weeks prior, able to fend off the thick of the Mandalorian lines with pinpoint accuracy and a well-timed counteroffensive.

Still, they gained no ground.

Alkor pulled the helmet from his head and looked out from behind his vantage point, calling on the Force to give him clarity. There was no telling who was behind a buy'ce with his eyes. He had to feel for it. He had to learn who stood at the forefront.

He took a deep breath, and reached out into the darkness...

 

[Progflaw99]

Allies: CIS | Echani | [member="Ryndrae Talon"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"]​

Enemies: United Clans of Mandalore | Mandolorians | Thrysians
Location: Outskirts of the Former Capital, Ruins
​

​

Rough skies buffeted the near dozen pods as they streaked down through the atmosphere. Comically, Ajax's teeth chattered, eyes bulging a touch as the inertial dampeners flickered off then on again. The Echani's gloved fist slammed against the control console, the shuddering stopping as the thrusters evened out. They weren't pretty, they weren't real high tech, hell - they were barely serviceable and definitely not safe. They would however see him to the surface and unto his revenge. Well, they were supposed to anyway. The real question was in one piece, or many?

Arcing towards the outskirts of the colossal burning mess that had once been the capital city of Eshan, Ajax tried to make sense of the scattered chatter over the comm waves. *Useless.* he thought, *Nothing but white noise.* "Blast it, this is taking too long!" he shouted to no one in particular. Eyes darting to the command console he tracked the flights of his fellow warriors. Wryly, he noted one of them had already been dispatched. Whether by Mandalorians or a simple pod malfunction he couldn't tell but he let it fuel his anger. "Alright boys - T minus ten! Brace for impact!

They'd aimed for the outskirts but if they hit their target or not Ajax couldn't be sure. Smoke and flame still rose from the obliterated city below. For a moment his breath caught in his throat as it came into view, moments before impact. So many dead, so much destruction. So much had changed, so much had been wiped out. With a monstrous crash Ajax's pod slammed into the ground, dirt and debris erupting into the sky where he'd impacted. They had arrived, ready to kick ass and chew bubblegum - and they were all out of bubblegum.

 

[Malok]

Location: The Capital, Eshan
Accompanying: [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Adron Malvern"]
Tag: [member="Kaine Australis"]

Spoiler: Loadout

Riding: Cin Bes'uliik

• CZ-839 Sonic Carbine (Stowed)
• 55A "All Fate" Disruptor Rifle (Stowed)

Wearing:

• Reforged-Beskar'gam
  Gauntlet of Hod Haran (Right)
• Echoy'lii Shukorok (Left)
• Baroness APG (Rigged: Shoulder Mounted)
• Ri Qorit Disabler
• Paragon-class Personal Energy Shield

[*]Second Lightsabre
[*]Sonic Grenades
[*]Yrkaa Sidearm
[*]Ha'rangir (Tomahawk)
[*]Nullified Parcel

There was once a time when the Sith would not leave her side.

Following the first offensive on Tatooine to be precise. Darth Metus had nearly lost his apprentice to the blade of the former Imperial, Adron. For many months following, nearly every operation occurred with the pair being within immediate proximity. In truth, the Sith blamed himself for the grievous injury dealt to [member="Srina Talon"] - and quietly swore that there would never again be a battle where they parted ways. However, the woman who followed him to the desert was not the same as the Hurricane which disembarked from the Transport. And, as irony would have it, the very same hand which had almost ended her life...had become a friend. She was home now. Better protected now. And above all, Stronger now.

As they took their first tentative steps onto the planet, the Sith had to swallow the vow that he had made in silence. There was a small shred of his soul that wanted to devote his presence to ensuring that the Echani lived - but his attention was needed elsewhere. It was not needed within the relief efforts championed by his companion [member="Valencia Hadley"]. It was not within the execution of Mandalorians as they licked their wounds. Hell, it wasn't even trampling the beskar-clad opposition which was rising to meet the advance of their droids. No, as that damn voice erupted over the comms, Darth Metus knew exactly where he was needed. Above.

[member="Kaine Australis"] had been so kind as to present himself on a platter - and the Sith was nothing if not a glutton for sweet vengeance.

With but a click of his teeth, the Vicelord urged his Bes'uliik forward, offering a singular, parting thought to his apprentices. To [member="Adron Malvern"], his command was simple: Keep her alive. and to the Echani: Focus. With these words uttered, the Sith took his own advice and steeled himself for the lurch. In a single bound, the iron beast propelled itself into the air by several feet whilst high-boost engines roared to life. They propelled the Bes'uliik skyward, ascending at a rapid pace towards the epicenter of the signal. It was almost humorous, how the "Warmaster" had revealed his location to the world - but no matter. His decimation would come quickly enough. This time, unlike their unfortunate introduction on Mandalore, there was no posturing. There were no idle words, nor veiled threats. No, this time, upon coming within range of the Bes'uliik's targeting systems, Kaine Australis was met with weapons fire.

From each of the beast's mammoth shoulders, a shatter-missile roared forth and sliced through the open air. Coupled with this, the beast spun up its forward-mounted laser cannons and unleashed hell upon the solitary target. And in the Sith's mind, this was an end that was too good for one of his ilk. He deserved to be rent apart by the fangs of wild dogs - but this day, ordnance and laser cannons would have to suffice.

 

[Valencia Hadley]

​

Location: Medical encampment outside of the capital proper, Eshan​

Allies: [member="Helly Reyne"] | [member="Kip Ridel"] | CIS
Enemies: [member="Subject 5"] | [member="Cynthia Solus"] | ME​

Wearing: Ring of Aspiration | ND-012 "Ri Qorit" Disabler​

Objective: Provide humanitarian aid to those displaced by the ongoing battle on Eshan​

​

---

​

---

​

The number of injured grew steadily with time, and much like her compatriot, Helly Reyne, Valencia was no great healer. Instead, she did what she did best: gave orders and ensured that everyone else had what they needed to do their jobs effectively. From ensuring supplies were where they needed to be around the encampment to relaying updates to those who were too engrossed dealing with the injured to be checking themselves. Honestly whatever was needed. All of that came to a very abrupt end as a cacophony of noise and a large plume of smoke and dust rose from the camp adjacent to theirs.

For a moment her heart stopped in her chest... Had someone attacked the camp? She knew the Mandalorian's to be a powerful warrior people, but surely they were above attacking innocents like this? What was she thinking - they were here because that's exactly what they had done. A frown set firmly into place on her lips as she turned and trust the small bundle of blankets and surgical gauze she'd been carrying into the startled arms of the nearest member of CIS personnel she could find and took off running towards the encampment where the dust was beginning to settle.

As she came loping into the small collection of drop pods and make-shift shelters she spied what had caused the commotion. The speeder was totaled, but with any luck, the rider need not be. She jogged over to the group that was currently working to pull the young man from the wreckage he'd caused and get him onto one of the stretchers. As she drew upon them she stopped short to gently lay a hand on Helly's shoulder, a frown still painted across her lips as she stared down at the man's bloodied face.

"Gods... Who is he? Do we know?" She glanced away from him to the woman who'd been charged with running this camp, giving Helly's arm a reassuring squeeze, doing her best to convey a sense of calm that she was struggling to keep up herself. She found herself hoping that this was just someone who'd been fleeing the violence and got a little zealous in their attempt to get clear of the city.

 

[Luca Donskoi]

[SIZE=12pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]Eshan Orbit (100M from Fortressa Bow)[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=12pt]Objective: [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]Engage the Enemy (Quoron Cadera/[member="Kaine Australis"])[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=12pt]Attire: [/SIZE]Flight Suit[SIZE=12pt] (w/ Helmet & Gloves)[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=12pt]Armament: [/SIZE]KC-95 “Ace of Spades” Blaster Pistol​

[SIZE=12pt]Ship: [/SIZE]T-77 “Talon” Stealth Interceptor​

[SIZE=12pt]Allies: [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]CIS & Allies[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=12pt]Enemies: [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]ME & Friends[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=12pt]Tags: [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt][member="Voph"] | [member="Amelia von Sorenn"] | [member="John Locke"] | [member="Quoron Cadera"] | [member="Adenn Kyramud"] | [member="Vanessa Vantai"] | Anyone else in orbit that I missed[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=12pt]Post: [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]2[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=12pt]::Incoming!:: The words broke across the encrypted frequency in a short burst transmission. Saber 3 was reporting as he saw the countless fighters ahead flood into the orbital space like a swarm of bees from their hive when disturbed. But the starfighters that steadily grew in number were not the Saber squadron’s primary concern. No, their primary objective lay elsewhere and they would rely on the stealth of their ships to get into position. For the time the menace the enemy starfighters posed could be quelled by the numerous squadrons of starfighter that accompanied the many ships of the Confederacy as they filter ever more into the system.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]It really was something to marvel over. How the insufferable actions of misguided group could bring together the might of another in such unity. How the Mandalorians could act out against a people and draw the ire of the southern superpower. These beskar clad goons had acted as insolent children. However, it appeared these children required a firmer hand than they’d been given thus far. A shame, really, as one would think a society that was supposedly built upon the tenet of honor, would actual conduct themselves honorably. Boy how Mandalorians had changed.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]<<Saber 2, 3 & 4. On me.>> This time Alden’s commands came in a different manner. They came through the Force, an ability he’d picked up only recently since becoming the Exarch’s apprentice. However, voicing his orders through the Force instead of through the traditional commlink protocol allowed for an extra measure of security. In doing so, he minimized, if not completely negated, the ability of the enemy to intercept a transmission and possibly narrow their vision to his team. <<All others dive low. Rendezvous on the far side of the enemy.>> He ushered out the remainder of his orders and immediately pulled the yoke back and toward himself. The Talon pitched upward and ascended to a ceiling well above the swarms of starfighters that undoubtedly danced to their chaotic tempos as Confederacy forces clashed with those of the Mandalorians. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]It would be a myriad of color that would erupt beneath them as they flew. Reds and greens. Blues. Purples. And others. The scene would be both beautiful and horrifying to behold. Such color and such death and devastation. It was glorious.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Meanwhile Sabers 5, 6 seven and 8 would pitch forward into a dive until they were well clear of the violent clash between the two factions that pushed against one another yet gained no ground so early into the elaborate and ever evolving routine. As both teams streamed forward, they would be sure to have both, their sensors and their eyes, peeled for enemy activity and positioning. They would not break from their stealth, a feature no heavily aided by the eclipse the maneuvering of one of their own had enticed. Fortunate for Saber squadron, yet highly the opposite for the others involved should they have no manner to adapt or no experience in such conditions. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]It would take both parts of the squadron of Talons mere minutes to reconvene on the other side of the enemy’s gathering armada. In that time, they’d all gathered what intel they could from their flyovers, allowing Alden to narrow a single ship for the first pass against the enemy. <<The super carrier has a large and exposed arse. On me, target engines. We’ll …>> Alden paused mid-sentence and a transmission came in hot from OPCON. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]::Saber 1. OPCON. Requesting you divert your attention toward obstruction of the sun. Over.::[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]::OPCON. Saber 1 copies. Over::[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]“Frak!” Alden cried out from within the cockpit of his Talon, before reaching out to the members of his squadron once again. <<Mission update. Plot jump for primary star. OPCON wants us to clear whatever is blocking out the light.>> As he finished, he thumbed over to the ship’s computer and set the course. It was a small jump, but due to the less than average hyperdrive systems of the Talons, it was easily manageable. It would take all of a few seconds to chart the course and maneuver the squadron of ships in the direction of the jump. <<Jump in…3…2…1...jump.>> [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Instantaneously, all eight of the of the starfighters vanished into a dismal flash of pale blue-white light. Moments later they would drop from the vectors of hyperspace and immediately narrow their sites to the four awkwardly shaped and dangerously positioned shieldships. This was a bold move[/SIZE], [SIZE=12pt]Alden thought to himself as he gazed the setup from a distance. Something about the Thyrsians involved in this conflict must have intimidated the Mandalorians to the point they looked to pursue any and all exploits they could manage. So…not only had the Mandalorians become honorless, but they’d also lowered themselves to the point of cowardice. Pathetic. <<Target the engines; the star’s gravity can do the rest.>> With that said, the eight fighters divided into 4 pairs. Each pair separated from the major group, splitting to where each pair targeted an individual shieldship. They should possess more than adequate enough firepower to get the job done. <<Let’s do this quick and get back to the fight, gentlemen.>>[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]With that, the pilots pushed forward on their respective throttles and sped in the direction of the shield ships. Once they reached effective weapons range, they begin to unload on the ships. Fire would come the torrent of ion fire to be followed by the dual rapid-fire cannons and then finally a single proton torpedo launched from each fighter. As aspects of the array of fire would be aimed for the engines, looking to quickly disable the four ships and leave them at the mercy of Eshan’s star. If you could even call annihilation in such a manner mercy.[/SIZE]

 

[Skorvek]

Allies: ME
Enemies: Salij-Nekt

He perked up as his senses picked up on a old familiar aura, He snarled abit as he recognized the aura as none other then Salij the Executioner has come to Eshan on the side of the CIS and was challenging him. He messaged all those in the valley on the Mandalorian to not interfere in his encounter with this beast unless absolutely needed as he marched to a clearing in the direction of [member="Salij-Nekt"] it was a small clearing with a stream flowing between it as he walked over to one of the rocks over looking the clearing as he took in and studied his surroundings and waited for his opponent to show himself. He was curios as to what the beast wanted from him if it was battle he will gladly oblige and send his soul to the afterlife accordingly as he kept his eyes and senses alert incase of an ambush.

 

[Salij-Nekt]

Enemies: [member="Skorvek"]

Salij stopped the speeder at a creek. A small area. The darkness of above bore over the area. Salij could think of no better place, far from the combat of the two factions at each other's throats. He cared not for any of that. All he came here for, was the one he saw as a brother in arms. The albino stood at the ready, leaving the speeder behind as he went along the creek. And there he paused. There he was. Skorvek. Salij had come for him, but first before jumping to his inner rage and letting it out in combat, he had another thing in mind at first.

"Skorvek...why do you fight for them? They are not your people." He glared down the other from behind his helmet, his crimson red eyes staring from behind the green lens of the helmet. "Ankhypt is in chaos. The new Pharaoh was cast off, and I with her. And where were you, with all this happening?" he growled. Neferisa had given him strict orders; convince. Even if the albino did not solely agree on these terms, he was to try.

He held his axe in one hand, yet had it lowered towards the ground. "You are needed. Queen Neferisa calls on all Anubians in the galaxy, to come to give an oath to her. Or stand away from her...yet here I find you, working in a war that is not your own. I may not know much about these Mandalorians and this Confederacy, for I have my allegiance else where...and she calls for yours."

 

[Malok]

Location: The Capital, Eshan
Accompanying: [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Adron Malvern"]
Tag: [member="Kaine Australis"]

Spoiler: Loadout

Riding: Cin Bes'uliik

• CZ-839 Sonic Carbine (Stowed)
• 55A "All Fate" Disruptor Rifle (Stowed)

Wearing:

• Reforged-Beskar'gam
  Gauntlet of Hod Haran (Right)
• Echoy'lii Shukorok (Left)
• Baroness APG (Rigged: Shoulder Mounted)
• Ri Qorit Disabler
• Paragon-class Personal Energy Shield

[*]Second Lightsabre
[*]Sonic Grenades
[*]Yrkaa Sidearm
[*]Ha'rangir (Tomahawk)
[*]Nullified Parcel

Vermin were always slippery.

When the metaphorical lightswitch is raised, illumination bids the cockroaches to scurry. So too did the "Warmaster" balk in the face of the incoming assault. By the Sith's estimation, the armor-clad wretch had managed to evade destruction by the skin of his teeth. In a perfect world, Darth Metus would have continued to ascend to face him head-on, but this was the instant that their common ground reared its ugly head. Both Combatants were, in one form or another, the children of Mandalore. And said offspring always brought everything including the kitchen sink to a battle. Versatility and thriving under fire was what created the finest warriors after all.

And he wasn't hungry for blood, the Sith might have admitted just how clever the guise was. For streaking forth in the heavens was a crimson Starfighter which opened fire straightaway. The tactic was just enough that the vermin was able to slip past towards the surface. The Bes'uliik responded immediately, raising its shield to defend against the laser cannon fire which rattled against it. However, as bidden by its Master, the iron beast did not engage the distraction, but rather dove towards the surface after the Mandalorian.

Meanwhile, Yasha's mongel was not the only one with optics throughout. The horde which erupted from the transport vessel featured a Battalion's worth of Baron Battle Droids sprinkled throughout their host. The priorities of their programming saw their jetpacks soar towards the heavens, with all devoting their targeting capacities at the crimson starfighter which strafed the Vicelord. In tandem with this defense, a handful of the Barons released a passive call for close, air support so that the starfighter might be dealt a premature end. Altogether, Australis' distraction would be faced with a hornet's nest of rockets fired from the Barons.

And the mongel himself would have Darth Metus hot on his heels. No sooner did Kaine commence his strafe when he would see the anger of the Sith made manifest. There was no lightning or assault on his mind this day; for experience demanded otherwise. Given the lack of Ysalamir or Voidstone upon Kaine's back, Darth Metus could easily feel his target in the Force. It was no great feat for a lifetime of experience wearing beskar'gam to make prioritizing the first, personal strike a breeze: and a crushing force would be enacted upon Kaine's helm. The telekinetics employed by the Vicelord were bolstered by the Echolyan crushgaunt, thereby affording him the capacity to cave in the beskar like it were paper.

In mere moments, the only thing that would make it to the surface of Eshan would be the remains of the vermin's skull.