Public Last Stand, New Beginning | Vonak

[Vyca Durren]

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<<“This- Clan Durren-- we’re--”>>

It took only a little adjustment for the transmission to come through much clearer. The armored woman stood, her hands at her sides.

<<“This is Vyca of Clan Durren. I’ll keep this short. My clan and I are pinned down. We’re holed up in a fortress on Vonak and the shield is holding, but we’re running out of supplies and there’s no way out. We’ve got half a legion on our doorstep, and… and I’ve got no plan. None of us do.”>> Vyca looked down, shaking her head.

<<“I don’t want to be the last of my clan,”>> she said.

She took a moment to regain her composure. <<“If you’ve received this, please, help us. We’ve been cut off, hiding, for so long, and we can’t hold out any longer. I’ll die a warrior if I have to but I’d rather live to see my people survive.

“Our survival is our strength.

“Vyca out. Oya, Mando’ad.”>>

The transmission ended.

Vyca slumped in her chair, resting her elbows on her knees. This couldn’t be the end. She refused to let it be the end. She’d survived up until now and she wouldn’t let the sacrifices of all the others go to waste. She needed to think. There was always a way.

There were nearly a hundred Mandalorians in the mountain fortress, half of which were in fighting shape; a dozen she trusted enough to fight with in a heated battle against the Sith -- too many of their warriors had fallen in their attempts at resistance. The shield generator was holding against the occasional artillery bombardments. If they were going to receive any ships, they’d need to drop it for a short time to let them in; assuming that any help was coming.

Their food and water would last them less than a week, and if the Sith troopers outside decided to march in with all their forces it would probably mean the end. They didn’t know how many Mandalorians were in the fortress; even with twenty good men it was possible to conduct a brutal defense against any attacker. The narrow and winding path up to the fort made infantry movement difficult, while the steep slope and high walls kept any other angle of approach near impossible, especially with the repulsorlift jammers active around the citadel. A smart commander could coordinate her forces to harass the enemy the entire way up the mountain, building morale after each victory and chipping away at a stronger enemy’s forces.

But Vyca couldn’t lead. She knew they had to do something but she knew she wasn’t the right person to do it.

Who else? The Armorer was on his deathbed, her parents were long gone, and many among the covert wanted to attack and go out in a blaze of glory instead of trying to survive this trial.

She sat in front of the communications console for what seemed like hours. The room was silent, the other Mandalorians knowing their situation just as well as she did.

Then it beeped. Someone had received their transmission. Someone was trying to contact them.

The door burst open. Her cousin, Ishon, looked out of breath.

“The Sith,” he said. “They’re coming up the mountain.”

This would decide the fate of her clan.

A fire was lit in her heart.

“Prepare yourselves,” she said, an unfamiliar strength entering her voice. They did as she said.

Vyca turned back to the console and opened the transmission.

 

[Careena Fett]

C a r e e n a _ F e t t

| Location | En route to Vonak​

| Attention | Vyca Durren ​

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Careena leaned back in her ship as it made its way through hyperspace, her arms crossed over her chest with her head tilted down as she rested. She and a few members of her clan were onboard a New Imperial frigate that was moving to survey and scout out the Sith Empire's northern territories, looking for any assets or targets of key-value after they had scuttled their capital far south. The battle with the Sith Empire was long and arduous, but they were Mandalorians; they thrived off of combat and the Sith were their natural enemies. It was a duty she was more than willing to carry out.​

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She'd perk up as her helmet beeped, a heads up from one of her clan members as she uncrossed her arms from her chest and promptly got to her feet as she made her way over to a terminal. She'd reach down as she tapped a few buttons on the console as she spoke in Mandalorian, <<" What is it brother? ">> A man's voice would come through from the other end, <<" We've picked up a distress signal from Vonak. Clan Durren says they are being cornered and assaulted by the Sith and require aid. ">> A projection of Vonak would appear, a blip radiating from the surface where the signal originated from as she switched channels to speak to the ship's captain. Clan Durren wasn't a clan she was very familiar with, but she could not overlook a clan in need of aid. ​

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" Captain, I'm requesting that we divert our course to aid allies. " A long pause was held between the end of her sentence before a rough male voice came over the comms, " And engage the Sith Empire? Need I remind you our objective is to survey and scout into enemy territory. We do not have the manpower or resources for an extended engagement of any kind. Your request has been denied. " Careena immediately responded, " Then let me take a few transports, some supplies and my own people. A quick jump in system to deploy us and you can immediately jump out. We'll make use of our own resources and manpower, but I will not leave my own people to be slaughtered by the Sith. " ​

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There was another lengthy pause as a sigh was heard over the other end, the Captain not wanting to have to argue with the stubbornness of the female Alor before responding, " Fine... But this is entirely on you. We will not be providing any further aid than what you have requested. You have half an hour to get yourself geared and ready before we arrive in the Vonak system. I expect you to be deploying immediately the moment we exit hyperspace. " Careena let out a silent sigh of relief to herself as she gave a curt response, " Thank you Captain. Fett out. "​

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Careena keyed the terminal once more as she responded on the channel that the distress call had been sent out on as her calm voice came over the other end for Vyca to hear, " This is Careena Fett, Alor to Clan Fett. We read you Durren and are en route to provide assistance. Hang tight and give the Sith hell till we arrive. You and your people will live to breathe and fight another day, this I swear on my name. " ​

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Careena would stand up straight as she raised her hand up to her helmet, opening up a channel to the Mandalorians aboard the vessel, <<" Gear up, we're deploying in thirty to aid Clan Durren. Make sure you pack enough supplies and ammunition for yourself and as relief. Notify any Sons of Mandalore members present in the neighboring systems of what we are doing, and that their aid would be appreciated. Let us show these Sith bastards that we are not to be karked with. ">> There was a wave of acknowledgment from the Mandalorians present as she herself moved to go get geared up. ​

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It was time to hunt once again.​

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[Seela Leini]

Objective: CAP/CAS Over Mandalorian Clan Durren Covert Fortress
Location: Clan Durren Covert Fortress - Vonak
Equipment: Sith-Imperial Armada Flight Suit Mk. II │ “Judicator” Adaptive Battle Rifle
Fighter: Nexus-E Starfighter - Dancer Ten
Tags: Vyca Durren Careena Fett

The formations of Sith-Imperial TIEs flying overhead acted as an ever-present warning to the Mandalorians trapped with the fortress, the ancient, yet violent roars of their twin ion engines unceasing even during the late hours of the night, in an attempt to deprive the defenders of sleep and peace of mind. Ironically, the same could be said of many of the pilots flying overhead and the Sith Legionnaires arrayed outside of the fortress, their exhaustion concealed only by the expressionless visage of their villainous black helmets. A sustained war of attrition had left the ranks of the Starfighter Corps thoroughly depleted, forcing the few remaining personnel and pilots to work longer hours under darker nights in order to keep the gears of the Sith-Imperial war machine functioning.

As one of the millions of strand-casts grown to correct the issue, SV-2121 was ultimately just another number in the ranks, defined only by her willingness to serve the Empire in its most desperate hour and her desire to see the heretics purged from the stars. She saw herself as part of something far greater than she could ever aspire to alone, a collective struggle to break the chains of Ashla in the face of an irreverent galaxy which sought only to embrace them.

Any thoughts to the contrary were quickly snuffed out, as candles extinguished in the dark.

With the assault on the fortress-covert shifting underway, 2121 remained silent as her commanding officers issued orders, assigning her TIE to combat air patrol, in order to cover the heavier craft tasked with close air support missions and to strike down any Mandalorian savages who sought to take to the skies via jetpack or starship. Pulling her TIE into a gentle turn, 2121 began to fly her starfighter in an assigned pattern around the fortress, while assessing her surroundings with her sharp, fighter pilot eyes and frequent glances towards the sensor readout on her HUD.

For any Mandalorians who sought to escape from the fortress, SV-2121 was prepared to blast them from the sky.

 

[Lirka Ka]

There existed things in this Galaxy far more foul than the Sith and their lapdogs...

It was a rare sight for Lirka to leave the confines of the Sumitra Sector now, the Empress of the Sephi Dominate looked that the Empire she once served with little more than disgust and disdain now, but it was nothing compared to the simmering hatred she held for the Mandalorians. They had paid with lost Moridinae, as millions were crushed beneath her iron boots, their youth stolen away and warped to serve the monstrous Sephi's own ends. The pure bliss of killing a planet could never be replicated, but this fortress would have to suffice. For now.

Her armored form towered above the Legionnaire dogs around her, the helmed monster's glowing eyes looked at them with a not-dissimilar-hatred than what she held for the Mandalorians. Sith-Eternalism? The thought made her want to vomit, cultist fools. But even a former Grand Moff had allies, and a battered and beaten Legionnaire soon stepped to her side. The Children of Moridinae. Her mark of conquest over these Barbarians, they were so few now, torn asunder by endless war. But they belonged to Lirka, and the Sephi knew they would follow every command she gave. They would see their once-kindred slain once more.

As artillery pounded like the beat of a war-drum, the dark form of the Sephi glistened in the light of war. Hardened metals, fineries of gold and precious all the same, but the ultimate prize laid bare to all those smart enough to look: chunks of her armor forged from Mandalorian beskar, a dabble of salt to rub in the wound, and a grim reminder of her former-conquest, hoisting a bizarre and alien blade the size of a man. The Sephi stood as a sentinel whilst the firestorm raged around her, ever patient for the Imperial onslaught to commence. A slimy, near-reptilian tongue piercing out from two thin lips beneath that nigh-featureless helmet, licking across Lirka's lips in anticipation of the slaughter to come, the Dark would be pleased. Oh so very pleased.

Tags: Vyca Durren Seela Leini Careena Fett

 

[Ves Fett]

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V e s_F e t t
Location: en route to Vonak
Attention: Careena Fett Vyca Durren Seela Leini Lirka Ka

Lost in a deluge of her own solitary thoughts and cigarra smoke that filled the confines of her tiny living space aboard the ship. Aside from occasional games of gambling and drinks in the ships dingy canteen, Ves hadn't ventured from her room. Preferring to blank out for hours on end from spice usage, watching holonet reruns and occasionally emerging to get food and talk to some other Fetts. Ship journeys were always fething tedious, mostly when you and your fellow clansmen became confined to the tiny rat hole living quarters for most of it. ​

<<" Gear up, we're deploying in thirty to aid Clan Durren.">> - Careena Fett .


Ves snapped out of her state of meditation and shook her head groggily, almost instinctively cursing at her commlink. Only to realise the sheer pointless futility of it when she remembered that Careena usually set her comms to give out messages only.


Fuck sake.


Rather than dwell miserably on the fact her procrastination had been so abruptly cut down. Ves launched herself off her bunk and grabbed her gear, joining the rest of the Fetts arming up and heading down the hallway.
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[Vyca Durren]

// MANDO'AD DURREN // CLAN DURREN //
// POSITION // VONAK // MOUNTAIN FORTRESS // WINDING PASS //
// OBJECTIVE // BREAK THE ONSLAUGHT // CUYANIR //
// FOCUS // Careena Fett Ves Fett // Seela Leini Lirka Ka //
// EQUIPMENT // BESKAR'GAM, BLASTER CARBINE, JETPACK //
// COMPANY // 12 MANDALORIAN WARRIORS // 48 MANDALORIAN RECRUITS //

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The message from the alor was short and to the point. Vyca had never met a Mandalorian of Clan Fett, but there were no shortage of tales of their exploits told by the Armorer to the children of their covert. If Careena Fett was worth even half of those stories, even so many Sith soldiers stood little chance.

<<"Thank you, Fett. There's just under a hundred of us; some are wounded. When you arrive, we'll lower the shield. I know of your clan and I trust your word.">> She paused, as if searching for a proper send-off. A hopeful sigh escaped her lips. That was enough. The transmission ended.

Vyca stood, following the other Mandalorians down the stairs and into the main hall where the warriors had gathered. 'Warriors'. So few of them left, and the next generation not ready to take on the burden that befell those who chose the path. The young would say they were ready as they always did. The old would say they could still handle a blaster; that they had more experience anyways. Mandalorians they were, yes, but there was still a gap. The ones that were old had gotten lucky as their betters perished in battle. The young were too green to understand the cost. Vyca did not know how to shape them into warriors. Not with so little time. Worse still, she did not have the words to tell them not to fight.

There was a desperate glance to the others gathered, but they too were only barely too old or too young to lead properly. Part of her was comforted by the fact that they too had doubts about their abilities, as rare as it'd be to hear them admit it. The rest of her was worried about the seat at the end of the hall that was left unfilled.

Alor. The last one to hold that title, truly, had been her grandfather -- until he slipped away in the night like some coward, without a word to his children. Without a word to her. Her parents each had tried and failed to be the leaders of Clan Durren. Now there was no one else.

"Vyca." Ishon, at least, still looked up to her. He was as skilled if only a little less experienced. They were all just as good in a fight. Perhaps her flaw was hoping that these stoic, individual warriors could work together. Multiplying their strengths instead of simply adding them might've made them strong enough to withstand this assault on their own.

"Vyca, you've got to say something."

She hated talking.

"We're... we're going to hold them off at the pass. Use the trapdoors and the arrow slits to keep them on their toes. We'll hold corners on the covered sections of the pass to force close-quarters combat and keep them coming one or two at a time." It was almost like her voice got quieter with every word. Ishon broke the silence with a roaring battle cry; the mood changed to an almost solemn silence to excitement.

"I'm gonna stab 'em right in the bucket!" One kid said.

"I'll blast 'em in the face!" Said another. They nearly charged out the door.

"Only those," the Armorer's soft voice cut through the cries and stopped the young warriors in their tracks, "Who have earned their signet will fight in close quarters. The rest of you will keep inside. Those with weapons ready will fight and the rest will stay with me in the main hall."

Vyca stared at the slouched old man, his golden helmet chipped and faded. The old wound in his leg wasn't getting better. Vyca's aunt, Wiya, supported the Armorer as he shuffled forward, his cane tapping away at the old stone floor. She made a gesture as if she'd had no choice to bring him here.

"You heard him," Vyca called, that strength entering her voice again. She recognized it now as the same intonation that could make the Armorer's words hush a room even in his elderly whispers. There were no grumbles, only a few nods of affirmation from the warriors before they made their way out.

"You shouldn't be out of bed."

"And you should not be alor yet. But here we are."

"I'm not-"

"Oh, well, you might not think it right now. But in time. You've been relying on me too long, but I cannot be alor. May as well remedy both in a single stroke." She could hear the smile through his words. "I've been in bed too long anyways. Might as well die standing on my own two feet. Not that I really can, with this, anyways."

He waved around his cane; Wiya almost had to catch him as his weight shifted without it. As if sensing their apprehension he shook it again at them. "Oh, I'm going to die alright. I've rotted enough. Yes, yes, die. Even in this warrior culture we forget to say it. Death is coming, yes, yes. For me first. Then your aunt, probably, and someday you. Today, perhaps, even. We all might die. And we certainly don't need to be happy about it. But we should be able to accept it. So don't be sad. Start living. Fight well, mando'ad. Wiya and I will handle getting the little ones and the old farts like me out."

He shooed her again with his cane. Vyca smiled. "Aunt -- keep him standing until the last."

"Say it."

"Until he dies."

"Of course, Vyca."

The warrior ran off, following her brethren into battle.

Despite the imperfect tactics, the Mandalorians's defense was made up for by the skill of each of them -- in the front line, at least. Clan Durren's most formidable warriors readied themselves in cover, staggered each level up the winding, narrow section of the fortress's pass. With the shield still holding against the artillery bombardment there was only space for close-quarters combat once the Sith soldiers began their march to the top. When the opposition became too much the warriors retreated to the next level, covered by their brothers and sisters.

Those less skilled had an easier job; the walls of the pass were broken often by long, thin firing slits for the defenders. Blaster bolts and slugs flew out whenever the Sith were in view. They were far deeper than they looked -- attempts to break in with explosive charges had thus far only shown more rock to break through. Whoever had built the fortress had known what they were doing.

As Vyca joined the fray, she could only hope that her clan knew what they were doing, too.

 

[Jair Ordo]

S I E G E B R E A K E R
ALTORA | EN ROUTE TO VONAK
Vyca Durren | Careena Fett | Ves Fett | Seela Leini | Lirka Ka

Jair was just leaving Altora when he received the transmission from the member of Clan Fett. The blue figure dissipated in front of him, the words still lingering in the air of his fighter. Aid was needed on Vonak, particularly manpower, to conquer a Sith attack that was currently ongoing. The Sith was not one to be trifled with, and by the urgency of the message, it seemed as if the current opposition was faltering. Time was running out.

The Mandalorian took a few seconds to plot the hyperspace coordinates. The decision and consequences had already been thought of and accepted. He had no other option but to go. Abandoning Clan Durren on Vonak would be leaving his brothers and sisters in arms to die to the dirty Sith, a fate one would not wish on their own worst enemy. The coordinates were locked in, signified by a beep from the navicomputer. Ordo flipped another set of switches then pushed on the hyperdrive accelerator. The sea of black with dots of white slowly turned into a blue and white stream, moving ever closer towards Vonak.

Once in hyperspace, Jair did not hesitate to start checking over his weapons. His blaster pistol had been cleaned significantly, and his jetpack had been repaired while on Altora. He unclipped his lightsaber off of his belt and stared at it, rotating the cylindrical weapon around in his glove covered hands. He placed it back on his belt, securely. It was not to be used unless needed. Didn't make much sense to wield it either, a good blaster was he needed to take a goon of the Sith down for good.

Moments passed, and the navicomputer started to beep rapidly. He had arrived at his destination, in a short amount of time too. He sat back down in the seat and as he let the hyperdrive accelerator go back, the jaded blue and white turned back into black and white. Vonak was now in range. He positioned his craft towards the planet and started the descent towards the surface.

It was time to defend against the siege.​

 

[Careena Fett]

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C a r e e n a _ F e t t

| Location | En route to Vonak​

| Attention | Vyca Durren / Ves Fett / Jair Ordo / Seela Leini / Lirka Ka ​

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Careena reached over her shoulder as she grabbed her rifle off her back, inspecting it and making sure it was in full functioning order. When she was satisfied with her inspection she'd turn the rifle vertically before gently pressing her helmet to the barrel of her weapon before muttering under her breath in Mandalorian, <<" Help me protect my people once more, and watch over all who entrust me with their safety. ">>. Careena would magnetize her rifle to her pack as she started to load up the rest of her gear, helping carry crates of supplies onto the transports alongside most of her clan.​

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Given the nature of the operation and how they were to deploy, they would have to help hold down the city Clan Durren was dug into, and await extraction once a larger vessel was present entering back into the system once they had loaded up the rest of the survivors before turning to Ves. She'd walk over as she raised a hand up and laid it out on her shoulder, <<" Ves, I want you to oversee the evacuation of the Durrens once we're planetside. Make sure the wounded and those not fit to fight are loaded up first and keep me posted on the situation within the city. ">> ​

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The New Imperial Order vessel would soon reach the target system as the Captain's voice was heard in her helmet, " Fett, we'll be dropping out of hyperspace in five, be ready to deploy. From here on out, you're on your own until we return. If no one's come to pick you up by the time we return, you better be ready to leave. " Careena stepped onto the transport as the rest of her clan and volunteers present boarded, with a few empty transports to spare for the survivors planetside. " Acknowledged Captain. Thank you for this opportunity. " A brief pause over the radio before the Captain's voice came through once more, " Just make sure you bring my transport back in one piece and your people. "​

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It would not be long before there was a subtle shift in the ship as they dropped out of hyperspace. The airlocks would open up as the transports lift off from the hangars and make for the surface. Once the last transport had cleared the vessel, the ship would immediately make a jump to hyperspace. The transports make for the surface, passing through the atmosphere as they were soon greeted by the clouds.​

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It was not long before the Sith forces came into view in the form of TIE flights that began to turn to greet them. The transports would rattle as TIEs flew past while Careena held onto the overhead rails before gesturing to a few of her clan members and getting them to follow her as she hit the controls to open up the rear of the transport to open up as she looked back at the rest of her clan, <<" Fight with honor and let our enemies know the wrath of a true Mandalorian warrior. ">> ​

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With that she turned back towards the opened rear as she ran forward followed by several of her clan members as she was sucked out into the atmosphere. She'd take a moment to let herself drop a bit as she straightened herself out in the air before activating her jetpack as she trailed after the transports. The TIE fighters were starting to make their turns to trail after the transports as she readied her rifle, turning upside down as she aimed backwards through her scope towards the approaching fighters and squeezed the trigger, sending high-velocity beskar slugs out as it penetrated through the cockpit of the leading fighter and sent it right through the pilots helmet and skull. smattering the interior of the cockpit with bits of skull and brain. ​

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Without a pilot the fighter would start to spiral out of control as it smashes into his wingman, exploding into a ball of flame and twisted metal while the rest of the fighters veer off to the side to avoid collateral destruction, accelerating to intercept as Careena flipped and cut power to her jetpack for a moment, flying backwards towards the oncoming fighters. All was silent in her world, the sound of howling wind, and scream of TIE engines fading as she grabs a detonator off her belt. She feels her body twisting and turning as she calculates the speed and distance of the closest TIE as she puts herself in its path before activating her jetpack at the last moment to maneuver herself just over the fighter, her armor just barely skimming the surface as she slaps and plants the detonator onto the cockpit as it passes underneath her. ​

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The TIE fighter screams by as it explodedes into a ball of flame as the detonator goes off. The other members of her clan that followed her out into the sky followed similar suit, as the initial wave of TIE fighters was blown up before they had a chance to get to the transports. One of them was not fortunate enough to come out of the maneuver unscathed as his jetpack got clipped by the TIE and started to sputter out of control. The man was experienced enough to know it was going to blow and immediately disengaged the lock that kept the jetpack attached as it flew off a distance away and exploded while the Fett warrior tumbled through the air, having faith in his clan members and Alor. He twisted and turned his body to slow his fall as Careena flew off towards him, reaching an arm out as he took his and felt him latch on, <<" I've got you, brother. ">> Clan Fett may not have been the largest of clans, and perhaps one of the fewest in numbers, but their trust and faith in one another was nothing to be scoffed at either. They looked after their own.​

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She'd descend to the surface below, a distance away from the combat zone, using the exploding wreckage of TIEs in the air to mask her approach as those of her people that accompanied her landed. The Fett she had saved from splattering on the surface would let go as he brushed himself off and gave a silent nod of thanks. With luck, they would not have been noticed being behind the enemy's position, and give her the opportunity to pick off any advancing forces on the city.​

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[Seela Leini]

Objective: Intercept Incoming Hostile Forces Over Mandalorian Clan Durren Covert Fortress
Location: Clan Durren Covert Fortress - Vonak
Equipment: Sith-Imperial Armada Flight Suit Mk. II │ “Judicator” Adaptive Battle Rifle
Fighter: Nexus-E Starfighter - Dancer Ten
Tags: Vyca Durren Careena Fett Ves Fett Jair Ordo Lirka Ka

The unidentified signatures translating into realspace over Vonak did not go unnoticed, comms chatter vibrating against the diminutive Twi’lek’s ear cones as she listened for new orders. As anticipated, they came in mere moments, directing her to regroup with her squadron in order to intercept the transports on their approach to the fortress. Almost immediately, 2121 rolled her fighter into a wide chandelle, shunting power to engines and slamming the accelerator as she pulled out of the turn. From there, shields and other combat systems were brought to life with the flips of a few switches, sheathing her craft within the protective envelope of a ray shield as she drove power to engines, lending periodic glances at her scanners as she did in order to stay abreast of the positions of any potential enemy contacts. All the while, she pushed her craft’s twin ion engines at full military power, making haste to reach her designated rendezvous point.

And yet, she was almost too late.

It seemed as if one of her squadmate’s status reports went dark with every passing second, screams echoing out over comms as TIEs were shot down or blown up in droves. Beneath the expressionless black mask of her helmet, her features had taken on a desperate scowl, a pair of tears slipping from her eyes as she pushed the control sticks forward, maneuvering to establish missile locks on a pair of transports before it was too late.

The final screams and cries of death vibrating against her ears was a discordant chorus to the soothing baritone voice of her Master in her mind, a reassuring presence that urged her to channel her passion into strength. Her hands, shaking so fitfully on her control sticks that she could barely hold her grip, immediately relaxed. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks, yet went unnoticed as her eyes pointed another brief glance at the scanner readout. Her shoulders relaxed, but the muscles in her body stayed firm, in anticipation of the inevitable g-forces wrought by the demanding conditions of air combat maneuvering.

As the last status report went dark, 2121 found her focus once more.

Almost simultaneously, the missile locks registered a confirmation. She didn’t waste a moment in squeezing the trigger, sending off a pair of concussion missiles from her launchers, set on a path towards two of the transports. However, she didn’t linger for long, taking advantage of her TIE’s speed to cut through the formation of transports, lending another glance at her scanner readout as she pulled her fighter up, before swinging back around to make another attack run...

 

[Uriel Tokarev]

Uriel's ship rocketed down through the atmosphere on the planet Vonak. The small NIO task force had arrived only minutes earlier after a short jump from the planet Sernpidal, being one of the first units available to respond.

Two small blue beeps appeared on his local sensors, flanking him on both sides. "About time you nerfhearders got here. We're less then a minute out from enemy contact, and you two got to keep my big ass safe." The Tie Mauler was known for it's survivability and fearsome ground strike capabilities, but not for it's maneuverability. At least in Uriel's division, every Mauler had two Ties as wingmen and escorts.

"Yes Uriel, we know it's all about you and your precious ship. Sooooorrry we scared you, wouldn't want to stress you right before we go toe to toe with the Sith navy." Uriel could hear both his wingmen laughing, and the grizzled vet cracked a smile underneath his helmet. The greener ones always had a sense of humor, he'd found. Marc continued talking. "Can you beleive these Mandos? Look at those transports below us, no karkin escort! They're blowing Ties out of the sky with just their rifles. Glad they're on our side."

"Agreed, I was just think-" an alarm suddenly wrang out. Glancing down at his sensors and then out of his cockpit to confirm, Uriel's smile tightened back to a frown. "Hostiles on the map now, looks like they're busy with our Mandalorian friends currently, but I doubt we'll escape notice for much longer. Switch deflectors double front, they could have ground based anti-air. Marc and Rask, as soon as those fighters take notice peel off and cover me." He had his orders. Give the Sith rearlines something to think about, and support the ongoing Mandalorian assault however possible. Speaking of which, it was probably time to hail them.

"Hello Mandalorian allies, this is heavy ordnance CAS squadron 72. Let us know where you need assistance. If not, we'll engage close nonspecific targets."

Personally, Uriel would be surprised if he was hailed back. The Mandos where a tough and proud lot, and they might well not need any help. Didn't matter though. Either way he'd get to kill some Sith.

"This is it boys! Thirty seconds till guns hot."

Uriel flipped a switch in his cockpit, activating his ships' specialized screech. The Sith knew he was here now. Good, Uriel thought. He wouldn't want it any other way.

Tags: Vyca Durren Careena Fett Ves Fett Jair Ordo Lirka Ka

 

[Lirka Ka]

Like a statue, Lirka stood deathly still as the thunder of artillery and violence flowed around her like an ocean. It was a calming bliss, but it was short lived. Comms flared to life as reports of destroyed TIEs crept through the chain of Imperial Command. Turning her armored head towards the Child of Moridinae next to her, her commands came clear and oozing with a barely contained malice.

"Prepare a Gunship, the time for idleness has passed."

Be damned what the Imperial-maggots would do, the Dark demanded bloodshed, and it's champion would provide. The Children would follow, they always did: with her guiding hand they too had grown tired of the slowness of their Imperial comrades, one of the Gunships that the battalion favored for their assaults hummed to life and with a short flight set down aside the Sephi monster. The vessel was battered, scarred by the flames of war. Lirka could never be so proud of her creations. A handful of the battalion, maybe a little over a dozen warriors, loaded into the Gunship's racks on the back whilst their Dark Mistress merely joined the pilot in the vessel's head. She could hear the frazzled Imperial commander bemoaning her impromptu assault. Weakling. When this was over, she'd have to claim his head. Throwing a cloud of dust and dirt around them as they took off, the Gunship blasted towards the imposing form of the Mandalorian fort, Lirka's words thundering within it's halls.

"My Children, si var pasi mal eindral iar, paerai saes oli tysi! Jhaeli byli eiloli!"

One did not need to understand the Sephi's language to know her meaning: it was a call to violence, merciless, cruel, violence. As the gunship continued to careen forward, slowing none, the woman closed a clawed fist to issue another command. The many weapons of the gunship flared to life then, firing a concentrated barrage of lasers and missiles at the fortress in an attempt to blow off a decent enough chunk: the Children knew the maneuver well. Leaping from the rack, jetpacks flaring to life as began to fly alongside the gunship. The fortress growing closer and closer, Lirka braced and let herself have a cruel smile as the armored hull of the gunship collided with the already assaulted chunk of the fortress. The explosion was mighty as a chunk of the Gunship detonated, leaving only damaged chunks and flames at the collision zone. But one figure, flames licking across it's dark armor, rose from the wreckage. One, hateful, decree shouted like a banshee cry for all to hear.

"MANDALORIANS! I COME FOR YOU!"

And with her call to battle, the half-flaming form of Lirka entered into the fray proper.

Vyca Durren

 

[Vyca Durren]

// MANDO'AD DURREN // CLAN DURREN //
// POSITION // VONAK // MOUNTAIN FORTRESS // WINDING PASS //
// OBJECTIVE // BREAK THE ONSLAUGHT // CUYANIR //
// FOCUS // Careena Fett Ves Fett Jair Ordo Lirka Ka Seela Leini Uriel Tokarev //
// EQUIPMENT // BESKAR'GAM, BLASTER CARBINE, JETPACK // MISCELLANEOUS EQUIPMENT //
// COMPANY // 12 MANDALORIAN WARRIORS // 48 MANDALORIAN RECRUITS //

---

---

Blaster bolt to the joint -- that was always the worst. She grabbed Mejiim by the scruff of his neck, lugging him away from the legionnaires that had piled up at the corner. He kept firing with his carbine even as they retreated to the next level. They rounded the corner and she pulled him to his feet, handing him off to Ishon. "Get him to the top."

"Vyca, I-"

"Get him to the top." Ishon listened, taking Mejiim under the arm and starting to pull him up the path. Their armor wasn't the full suit needed; the supercommando style tended to be more flexible. It was just fine to her but if the enemy got a lucky shot off it was more often that not more difficult to recover from. She stood beside Phiva, another of Clan Durren's warriors. The first soldiers to step into their sights fell just as quickly.

Even through the close combat, Vyca didn't miss the sounds of explosions above -- the TIEs that'd been screaming overhead became fewer and fewer, replaced by the hum of repulsors as transports approached. Still, they were distant; the shield remained-

Only, they were supposed to be distant. She heard her cousin call out a warning and turned to see a ship flying low. A gunship firing its weapons into the side of the mountain. There was no intent of stopping. Vyca hit the remote on her wrist and leapt into the air, jetting away from the enemy, but the force of the crash under her still sent her spinning in the air.

There was no escape -- something hit her from the side. Another Mandalorian- no, not quite; the warrior pushed her towards the mountain, intent on slamming her into the wall. His free hand drew a wicked vibroknife and thrust towards her abdomen. She twisted, putting them into a roll as the knife scraped her breastplate. She slammed his helmet. He didn't waver. They closed in on the wall. She activated her gauntlet's blade and stabbed the warrior in the neck, twisting the blade and forcing his body off her as his grip slacked. A kick sent him into the wall and launched her just away from it.

With her attacker dead, Vyca had a moment to look around. Clan Durren's warriors were forced to engage the enemy that had jetted from the gunship. One, though, stood out from the crowd.

<<"Keep fighting, our ride's almost here. I'll keep the big one busy.">>

Vyca turned and her jetpack pushed her towards the flaming warrior. The energy that radiated off her -- Vyca couldn't quite place it, but it was dangerous. She didn't want any of her brethren to face it. That left only her. "Bring it, takisit!"

She raised her gauntlet. Flames spat from it; white-hot, but even then she knew that it probably wouldn't be that effective. Still, the light and flame obscured the Mandalorian for a moment -- so when she cut the power to her jetpack, dropped and slashed at the Sith's weapon hand, she hoped she'd be enough of a surprise for it to work.

---

As Clan Fett's transports closed in, the shield dropped to allow them to land in the fortress's courtyard -- but exposed them to the TIEs above.

 

[Lirka Ka]

Chaos, Lirka could feel the sweet ecstacy of chaos wrap around her. The sounds of death, the sounds of carnage, the sounds of glorious murder. It fueled her with a life these puny little rats could never fathom, something that one untouched by the Dark Patriarch would feel only repulsion too. Oh it was sweet, oh so sweet. She threw a chunk of durasteel aside as though it was paper, her power-suit whined with an ever-familiar exertion as it tried to respond to the discombobulating crash.

But as the flames flickered, the dark majesty of Lirka began to dawn: her armor flickered and shined in the firelight, the unmistakable sheen of Beskar shown as a grim taunt to the Mandalorians, and while maybe not as massive as she once was Lirka still had the presence of a dozen men, pulling out her blade: a weapon almost the size of Vyca Durren , with a roar the weapon burned to life with plasma-filament, an emerald flame that clashed against the colors of the firestorm around the Sephi.

"Come, barbarian. I shall teach you enlightenment!"

Maybe this warrior hoped her gout of flame would slow her advance: the rat had thought wrong. Lirka feared not pain, she feared not agony, she feared not to be torn apart and destroyed: she would rise again, ever more hateful than before. For the Dark's Champion stood in defiance of his all-consuming embrace, as the new torrent of flame gushed out Lirka surged forward like battering ram, her blade lashing out through the flame in an attempt to slash the Mandalorian: the two surging now into their deathly embrace