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This post is purely for continuity and Keira ICly leaving the thread so I'm able to participate in Contruum and Balmorra. Please ignore.
Apathetic eyes watched the planet of Muunilist slowly shrink away as Keira sat against the wall near a viewport of a last-minute shuttle that had been taken off-planet before the fighting really began. As much as she took pleasure in the thrill of combat, this wasn't quite her battle to be fighting. There were more pressing matters to attend to, namely that of the military she had been placed at the head of only recently, along with her integration into that aforementioned group as a whole. It was a responsibility she hadn't offered herself up for, but one that had found her nonetheless. And right now that took precedence.
Of course, that didn't mean the Sith wouldn't be receiving their dues. All would come together in time. The only thing she had to do was wait.
Location: Outskirts of Factory Property
Objective: Take the Enemies Alive
Allies: N/A
Enemies: [member="Rawnie Tal'verda"] // [member="Jarell"] // [member="Malcom Renolds"] // [member="Doctor Azure"] // [member="Pitar Brounake"] // [member="Aedan Miles"]
Gear: (Marked Items have Links in Signature)
Thermoguard Bodyglove // No-Show // Cloak of Nuun* // Cater Coat* // Inquisitor X-1 Armor* // Gun Belt filled with Munitions and Grenades* // Tantibus // 3 Betty Blasters // Kalligs Scorching Lightsaber // 2 Talismans of Concentration // A few other gadgets
Were he closer, the dart and Ysalamir would have been a deadly combo. As it was, he was just out of range of the 10 meter range of the beasts ability. However, even though the Force warned of his impending neck strike, he couldn't make an all out maneuver to dodge. With hardly a millisecond to spare, Damien lifted his arm, where the dart struck and imbedded itself a few micro centimeters into it.
Dropping lower, Damien was beginning to worry just a bit. The fire storm at his back combined with the occasional frontal attack, was getting intense, and had the man known precisely where to fire, D would likely have already perished. As it was, Damien reached under his coat and drew forth a Betty Blaster. Making sure the safety was released, he rolled to the side and thus clear of the barrier - but now he was retaliating.
A swift shot from the supercharged blaster, combined with an array of those from the E-11 were launched in quick succession as he finished his roll. This time, he was now against an adjacent wall outcropping that ran parallel with the container he had hid against. He hoped that the building was not built from paper mache like the container had been.
Finally turning his attentions to the one whom had come up the side a distance away to shoot the dart, he leveled both weapons again and unloaded another shot for the Betty combined with a few from the rifle. Each was well placed, aimed for joint areas: neck, armpit, knees.
Considering that the other had to move himself to the open in order to get the shot, Damien doubted he could simply jump behind cover either. Though at the current range, there was time to move and dodge potentially.
She found her breathing somewhat irregular. She supposed that was what happened when you were shot. It happened. Unlike most of these superhuman meat bags, Rawnie was perfectly aware of the fact that any bullet wound could be very serious is left unattended. Especially in her condition. Blood loss could be fatal to her baby. But she'd been the one to climb all the way up here. Never mind the fact that she had been following her superiors orders by doing so. She had to take responsibility for getting shot. It was what a good soldier did.
She took aim again at [member="Damien Daemon"], breathed in and exhailed, sending yet another bullet at him, this time aimed at a leg. That was the key to capturing a wild wolf in the wilderness. Take out it's feet.
"Lor'ika," she said, switching over to her husbands personal comm, "It's Rawnie. I'm okay. The bullet only grazed me. My armor took most of the impact."
Another lie. A horrible lie.
"I need you to do something for me. I need you to help the others get away. I'll follow soon, I promise."
Lie. She bit her lip, willing herself to keep her voice calm.
"But word has got to get back to command, or else we'll all die. I need you to shelf your pride for the moment and listen to Renolds."
She took a deep breath, falling back against the stone ledge of the roof she was on, the only cover she had. She was already fishing for more gauze. She had a bottle of numb-spray and a few bacta patchs, as well as a single vial of bacta numb. That last one was a bit more expensive, so she'd planned to use it only in an emergency. But, well...
"N-ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, Lor'ika."
Truth.
She closed communication with him, pulled her helmet off. It was getting hard to breathe, and the helmet did not help. The crack in the visor was distracting.She took the syringe in her hand, bit the cap off, then thrust it into her shoulder. The woman hissed, biting back tears, then pushed the cap all the way in, forcing the numbing medicine into her blood stream.
Knee mounts:
*Knee pad Fex-M3 dart launchers (Left/Right)
Grenades:
*2 Force Breakers
*4 Thermal Detonators
*4 Frags
*1 Ion Grenade
*2 Tear Gas
*2 Flash Bangs
Equipment:
*Personal Shield Generator
*Spiked Boots
*Z-6 Jetpack with rocket
Jarell has knowledge and ability to perform basic Force powers
Jarell switched his Westar back off stun and moved around until he got within range of Damien or a good spot to do his next move. While Damien was distracted by Malcom Jarell popped out from where he was hiding and pulled a force breaker grenade from a pouch on his belt and tossed it at Damien's feet hoping it would detonate and considering Jarell threw it just right it would affecting Damien unless he moved.
Jarell crouched down behind some brush to hide aiming his acid thrower at Damien waiting for him to try and dodge the grenade, if he tried Jarell would be ready.
Location: Near the city, with Malcom's group Objective: Keep himself and Rawnie alive... And maybe Malcom, too. Allies: [member='Rawnie Tal'verda'], [member='Malcom Renolds'], Mandos (maybe) Enemies: Anybody who's got a weapon pointed at his wife. Equipment:
It was a very simple statement. He could hear Rawnie through his comm. More specifically, he could hear her breathing. And then he couldn't... But she clearly wasn't dead. When he looked up, her hair was fairly visible on that tower she'd climbed. So, she hadn't heard him. As for Malcom... The guy seemed to be blindly firing into the air for a few seconds, before the Chiss heard the fairly obvious sound of returning fire. But who cared about him, or in fact, about the rest of these people?
Well... At least he couldn't be court-martialed. He wasn't technically military. But, then... If he ditched the rest of the team and flew off to find Strider, maybe he could make it back. Anybody who tried to stop him would get a bullet in them. Was the old man still in the factory? Hopefully. A low growl escaped him as he looked at Malcom again.
"Rah lah ch'uscah, vah csarcican't baper vah viz cssi, Renolds."
His boot jets activated as he took off towards the factory, not knowing that the situation there had gone to hell, too.
Location: Outskirts of Factory Property
Objective: Take the Enemies Alive
Allies: N/A
Enemies: [member="Rawnie Tal'verda"] // [member="Jarell"] // [member="Malcom Renolds"] // [member="Aedan Miles"]
Gear: (Marked Items have Links in Signature)
Thermoguard Bodyglove // No-Show // Cloak of Nuun* // Cater Coat* // Inquisitor X-1 Armor* // Gun Belt filled with Munitions and Grenades* // Tantibus // 3 Betty Blasters // Kalligs Scorching Lightsaber // 2 Talismans of Concentration // A few other gadgets
Damien was utterly caught off guard, as a bullet for overhead struck him hard in the leg. If not for the grade of armor her wore, it would have pierced and likely destroyed his leg. As is, he was forced to the ground for a moment. Glancing to the side, he watched a grenade hit the ground nearby, and detonate.
Instantly gas began to flow free, and Damien instantly knew what it was; several times now he had faced Force Breakers. It wasn't his first, nor would it be his last. A harsh wave of the hand conjured a massive gust of wind, one that sent the gas and grenade down the ways towards Aedan. But he did not breathe just yet, as there was the potential residue encasing the area.
With breath held, Damien put the rifle against his back, hanging by a strap, then drew forth a cryoban grenade from his Gun Belt. Taking off quickly, by racing along the wall, not actually stepping away from it and into line of sight, he hurled the explosive into the air. With a second wave of the hand, he guided the grenade at Rawnie with sheer speed. Being up top she only had a few options, jump or take the blast which could incapacitate.
Quickly Damien calculated that at least 4 people were around him, including the woman. One carried a dart gun, another a rifle he had never seen, the last a destructive one. Also from a quick glance, he believed he recognized Aedan from his own days as Mandoa. That would mean one was also a Force user.
The odds were high, but he felt good so far.
It was then that his Spirits began to whisper to him, moaning really. He tried to ignore them however...
Location:Mando staging area Objective:Capture a prisoner and get the kriff out of dodge Allies:[member="Doctor Azure"] | [member="Rawnie Tal'verda"] | [member="Jarell"] | [member="Darth Mudrac"] | [member="Aedan Miles"] Enemies:Primeval - [member="Damien Daemon"]
Malcom was too busy worrying about not being shot to be concerned about the rather useless up till this point Chiss or his words which he didn't understand anyway. Hopefully he'd finally manage to be of use and get a report to command. Malcom still couldn't understand why they had never received a response about his earlier report. For now, he opened up full auto on his target while his attention was focused on Aedan. When he rolled and opened up on Malcom, he too rolled away behind cover, but quickly popped back up to spray another volley of fire into this man that seemed to be able to dodge all these rounds being fired at practically point blank range.
Oh sweet stars above! Such relief! It was only a numbing agent. It didn't really fix anything, but at least she wasn't tearing up from the pain anymore. She wrapped her wound again, knowing full well she would just bleed through it. Didn't matter. For the moment, she could do her work.
Vaguely, she could hear her husbands voice from her helmet. 'I'm not leaving you behind.'
"Don't have a choice, Cyar'ika," she murmured, going back to her rifle. She looked through the scope at her target- just in time to see him throw something up at her.
A grenade. She had few options here. She could jump. She could take the blast. Or-
She reached out as far as she could over the edge, stretching her one good arm to it's limits. Time seemed to almost slow down, but with all the force she could muster in her tiny body, she swatted that grenade right back.
The pungent stench of Savorium Herb flooded the air above the skyscraper. Static erupted from the radio breaking the silent air, "Danger close fire on the agent in their midst. We'll level them all." His Zabrakian superior was blunt with orders, but at least he was concise. Probos gave a quick glance to Qrgyl before rummaging through his bag in search for his electrobinoculars.
"Hey you bug-eyed bastard, I can't find these blasted binoculars of mine. Can you scope out the targets Ebby was talking about?"
And Qrgyl was on it before Probos even finished his question. The Gand peered through his sight and onto the skirmish before taking a couple quick drags of his Savorium Herb and reading off the coordinates to his Durosian buddy. The PLR's simultaneously shot off beeps as Probos' long green fingers imputed the location of his ally Damien and the Mandalorians overwhelming him.
Probos' lipless mouth arched into a smile as he finalized the coordinates. "Might want to plug those ear holes, bud." A quake shook the rooftop. A roar echoed through the neoclassical jungle. 36 Eager fireballs leaped from the PLR's and morphed into wiry tracers as they made their quick and destructive journey. Probos gave a throaty chuckle over his joggled mind and ringing ears.
"That'll teach 'em not to group up like a bunch of damned Mynocks!"
Location: Mando Staging Area Objective: Locate an enemy or three to deal with Allies; Prime Enemies:Strider Garon , His ego, The Mandalorians and their friends. Weapon/Equipment:
Like a phantom of unbeknownst hell and twisted nether he moved along the roof tops, never ceasing as he heard the distinct echoes of combat. His hand gripping the hilt of his Katana and the other close to the wakizashi that completed the ensemble. He twisted as he flipped down to the ground and landed much like a insect in the still of nature, silent yet poised to strike. The in built scanners of his helmet began to survey the area and pin point the targets that were in the open. He could mark Damien and several mandalorians and their allies, but his prize was no where to be seen so far.
" By the Nine Hells of the eternal depths of apathy, where are you hiding [member="Strider Garon"]" he said as he took aim at one of the mandalorians, she would be his quarry for this moment. To bring pain and eventually bring out his brother so he could end this foray into the depths of idiocy.
He summoned forth the force and he started his run, stopping a few dozen meters short he let loose three of his throwing knives enhanced by the force at [member="Rawnie Tal'verda"], the daggers were aimed at her shoulders and one at he wrist. He didn't intend to kill her, no death was not something he would resort to now but he could feel something inside or her that would keep him trying to devastate and not destroy.
" So [member="Strider Garon"] and [member="Anija Betna"] send forth those in your condition to die for them, how far have they fallen" he echoed.
It was orange. It gave the blade an orange tint, and it was like a flashlight in a dark cave right now. It wasn't just him, it was the solari crystal in his lightsaber. He meditated, his hands on his knees, and the lightsaber that he had spent so long constructing in front of him. He felt the weight of the beskar hilt, and the components click together. It was a relaxing, taxing exercise that required his utmost concentration. He was drawing the force around him into the crystal, and he took some of that into him. He was pushing away the negativity, the fear, the anger, the rage, the impatience and all the negativity around him, and focusing on calming himself. He had to push aside such dark thoughts, such feelings of darkness, ones that were quick to empower himself, but dangerous and consuming. The Dark Side was like an opiate of the most powerful kind, and was incredibly difficult to remove one's self from.
He opened his eyes, reaching out and grasping the lightsaber hilt out of the air. As the Mandalorians swarmed around him and fell into their positions and tasks, Tracyn looked upwards. He was calm. His mind was clear. And he opened himself up. There was no use concealing himself. To the ones that used the dark side in the area, it was a beacon of light, and to some, all too familiar. It was powerful, in a way. His light, his aura, was that of a skilled warrior. While Tracyn was no pushover when it came to the force, he was more skilled than powerful. He was a master of Teras Kasi. He was familiar with over 300 different weapon systems. He had been trained as both a Mandalorian Super Commando, and a Jedi Knight. He was very proficient in Djem So, among many other finer arts of combat. But above all- he was a Jedi. He was a Jedi who fell, and a Jedi who was redeemed.
And here is where he would help the Mandalorians. Victory or defeat was unimportant- it was the battle, the struggle that mattered. There would never be defeat of the dark side- the dark side was a cancer on the force, the dark side was a natural manifestation- but there was always ways to stop the spread of a cancer. Tracyn hoped, that he would be one of the ways to stem the tide of evil and darkness that was plaguing his armored brethren.
Location: Staging Area
Allies: Mandalorians
Enemies: Primeval, [member="The Traveler"]
Objective: Hold out
Gear:
M45 Rifle, Two Westar-34s, Beskar Tomahawk and Beskad, Crushgaunts, Preliat's Armor, Jetpack, Flamethrower (100%), two thermal dets, Ori'ramikad knife on foot, two thermal dets and a smoke grenade.
"No."
Preliat said, speaking to the [member="The Traveler"]. He raised the M45 to his shoulder, and aimed for center-mass. Preliat was an expert shot, and seasoned enough to know that any other shots were pointless. The M45 gave off it's distinctive bark, the red bolt screaming towards the Primeval's attack dog. Preliat fired two more shots, a quick three-pull burst designed to put down mostly anything. The M45 was an impeccably good rifle, trustworthy, accurate- and had the impact force of a semi-truck crashing into someone. The Sith had a choice- move, or be moved by Preliat's rifle. The Wolf Sneered behind his beskar'kandar helmet.
"They simply have more important things to do. And so do I. So I would advise running now."
She just wanted a moment to breathe. A moment to see to her wounds. That was all. She was already hurt. Maybe dying, if she didn't get treatment in a few hours. Her blood wasn't clotting like it was supposed to.
Something isn't right.
She could not be more right about that. The sound of somebody on her rooftop drew her attention. She held up her rifle, but before she could fire, a sharp sting in her other shoulder caused her to drop it. The one aimed at her other shoulder missed by some miracle, although Rawnie had doubts that it could possibly have done much more damage. She slumped against the side of the wall, weakly raising her hand to grab at her rifle laying a foot away.
She screamed as a dagger went right through the back of her right hand. This was it. She looked up, breathing ragged and labored. She was dead. She was going to die before she could even get started. Her clan would never regain it's former glory, if it's Alor could be taken down so easily! She weakly reached over to pull the knife out of the back of her hand. She hissed, then she screamed. But she refused to weep, even as she ripped the dagger from her own hand. Even as blood pooled up from the fresh hole through her hand, then spilled over.
Objective: Fight some guy.
Location: Nearing the factory district.
Allies: [member="Catalys Maijora"] [member="Korlen Athan"] [member="Darth Legion"]
Enemies: [member="Xalus"]
The machine teetered, moving forward with the surety of all beasts mechanical. Cracking the ground with each step, causing tremors through the nearby area from the sheer weight put onto each point of contact, it simply made for the area designated for patrol. Inside, covered in power armor, Sarge stood with feet working pedals, hands clasping joysticks to control each arm. Blinking his way through sensor readouts, he frowned inside his helmet.
Contact. 300 meters.
That was the droid brain telling him, just in case he'd missed it while toggling systems.
"FAST MOVER INBOUND."
He couldn't tell what it was yet, but he continued moving, because it was fast and not air-based. That left him confident he could handle the situation. As if in response to the perceived threat coming there way, the blaster cannon spooled again briefly before chattering back to stillness. He was anxious - mostly just to get this done, because he didn't want to be here any longer than necessary.
Location: Flying towards the overrun factory Objective: Find Strider frakking Garon and get back to Rawnie Allies: [member='Rawnie Tal'verda'], [member='Malcom Renolds'], Mandos (maybe) Enemies: The clusterfuck of enemies he's about to see, [member='The Traveler'], [member='Damien Daemon'] Equipment:
The streets below Lor as he flew by were a blurry mess. One thing was clear, and that was that the Mandos had frakked up bad. Weren't they supposed to excel in this kind of urban combat? This was the absolute farthest he'd ever seen from that. The one thing that the armored warriors had done right so far was not die, apparently. He heard a scream, and tried very hard to ignore it. The faster he did this, the faster he could turn back and help his wife.
Well, apparently he could turn back way faster than he'd originally thought. The factory had been overrun. There were a couple of huge people in armor fighting each other, along with what looked like a bunch of Sith. Certainly explained why there hadn't been any communications from the base. No frakking base to get communications from. Time to fly the hell away and get back to what now seemed to be the relative safety of a bunch of snipers shooting at a space wizard.
Location: Mando Staging Area Objective: Don't get lit the Frell up. Allies; Prime Enemies:Strider Garon , His ego, The Mandalorians and their friends. Weapon/Equipment:
[member="Preliat Mantis"] The Traveler growled low to himself as he spun out of the way of the first shot. He took only a second to glance back as he rolled forward behind what ever cover that he could muster. There wasn't much, but he would make due with the rubble that was laying there. A cloud of debris showered him as he narrowly avoided the triple tap that would have ended his life long before he could complete his holy charge. The destruction of both sith and jedi would be accomplished and this boy in his way could not stand to stop him, nor could he kill that which eternal lie. He was the lost, the damned the forever forsaken and he had surrendered his soul the day he had left the manda'yim.
His armor was like a the mighty titan skin of old, but it would not stave off more then a shot or two from that wicked blaster. He reached for his twin adjucators, why they wouldn't penetrate Beskar'gam they would do enough to push him back or find the soft flesh not covered by plates. He popped up and started running to the side towards [member="Rawnie Tal'verda"] firing both pistols at Preliat as he moved with abandon towards the next piece of cover between him and the girl. His blades had struck flesh to well and she was bleeding out, something he would not stand for for the life she carried was innocent and she was still a sister even if he had left the Mando'ade.
He amplified his voice " Like the serpents grace i shall strike, ever eternal for that which is upon the horse of war is followed by the rider of the horse of death. Blood and vicera, eternal pain and suffering are all that await the unworthy as their bones bleach upon the shores of their ocean of defeat. For many years i have wanted to test your flesh by my blade, and the chance is upon me [member="Preliat Mantis"]" he said his name with emphasis. " I know more of you then you of me, i will leave you living today but i shall leave my scar upon your bruised ego and mantle. Even during my unmasking in days to come you shall remember the shame of your falling why i sunder you and save your vod's life" he said as he ducked in behind a metal support. He ejected the magazines from his pistols and slapped two more into them, if he had any chance he would have to close the gap and put him into his domain.
Dizzy. She felt so dizzy. Blood loss. A dangerous amount of blood loss. No! She couldn't give up. She'd get out of here. She'd live. Her baby would live. She had known the risk coming in here. She'd known. She'd accepted it. Dying was a reality, simply something that happened. But not Galaar. Not her son. With her bloody hand, she shakily touched her armor covered abdomen.
Someone else had joined them. Someone else was shooting at her attacker. She couldn't really see them. Didn't care who they were. They weren't blue, so they weren't Lorane. That was all she needed to know. And now her attacker was coming at her. With her one good hand, she reached down, finger closing over her gun, the one she'd gotten from her mother ages ago. It was quirky and unreliable, but she had faith in it this time.
She watched her attacker bob and weave in and out of reach, likely not even paying her any attention. He probably thought she was dead already.
"I'm not going down... without a fight."
She fired. Again. Again. and again, until the trigger clicked and nothing more came out.
Location: Staging Area
Allies: Mandalorians
Enemies: Primeval, The Traveler
Objective: Kill
Gear:
M45 Rifle, Two Westar-34s, Beskar Tomahawk and Beskad, Crushgaunts, Preliat's Armor, Jetpack, Flamethrower (100%), two thermal dets, Ori'ramikad knife on foot, two thermal dets and a smoke grenade.
Preliat wasn't a big fan of talkers. In fact, he was about as stoic and mean as they came. And [member="The Traveler"] was full of...garbage. He seemed like a comic-book villain from Preliat's youth rather than a real threat. Preliat ducked out of the way of the pistol shots, the rounds impacting the rubble above him. Preliat gently laid the M45 on the ground, unclipping it from the ground. He curled his spiked fists, before withdrawing a single Westar-34. He was an expert with this weapon as well, having used the weapon since he was on Elrood. He wasn't worried about [member="Rawnie Tal'verda"], she could take care of herself.
Preliat fired at not the man himself, but aimed to destroy his cover. The Westar-34 was a hard-hitting blaster, much like his M45. It was powerful enough to take down a rampaging beast, such as the legendary hero Jango Fett did in the arena on Geonisis. He grit his teeth and fired the trigger, aiming to rip apart the rubble in which The Traveler had pulled himself behind.
"I will remove your head from your body like I removed Dredge's."
Someone gave the order to retreat. It almost made Kadala freeze. But it didn't. Even as she wondered how bad things had to be for the Mandalorians to fall back, she kept running. Kept moving with her Rhynos in hand, ready to fight, ready to kick ass. Maybe that was reckless of her- and maybe it would get her hurt. It wouldn't be the first time that her stubborn nature got her in trouble.
But she was the daughter of Mand'alor. And the daughter of Mand'alor did not like retreating.
So she kept moving, still. Her eyes were constantly scanning the area around her, the HUD in her helm doing the same. Less noticeable was her search through the force. Despite the many other force users present, she was still able to lock onto the same signature as before. With a slight smirk Kad increased her speed (aided by the force) and rushed towards the Sith's location. If he wanted a fight, he'd get one.
Location: Nearing Factory
Objective: Capture or Kill Mandos
Allies: [member="Catalys Maijora"] [member="Korlen Athan"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"]
Enemies: [member="Preliat Mantis"] [member="Rawnie Tal'verda"] [member="Doctor Azure"] [member="Tracyn"] [member="Malcom Renolds"] [member="Jarell"]
No Gear Really, Just a Staff, Aang-Tii Fighting and the Force
Legion, keeper of Souls had room for more today, he'd hope to gather another in his collection. The Mandalorians were in his way. He cared not for their beliefs, their treasures or their world. He wanted their lives, pure and simple. With Darkness in his hand and in his heart, Talos would brin down his enemies like lambs to a slaughter.
He felt a presence that was Familiar. A certain Epicanthic he'd encountered many years ago. One who he wished to play with again. Back in the Grey Order days.
Three Echoes appeared from within him, each drooling over the thirst for blood.
"We know that scent...Its familiar to Us...The mind is Blocked and it must die..."
Walking forward, the Keeper, the God, the Legion would search for a target worthy to collect. Another Echo in his mind that would expand his powers further into darkness.
