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Zaiya flushed in pleasure at the compliment that she had pretty colors. Although she was even more excited that she did find someone else who could color-shift to a degree, even if it was just her hair. Did the colors Mahsa express mean the same thing as with me?
It would be a fun topic to discuss at a later time.
However, it was time to focus. Zaiya still held tight to Casaline's hand, trying her best to make sure that the young girl would feel comforted by her presence, listening in closely to Shan's instructions. Okay, at the same time.
Zaiya gave a firm nod, waiting for Shan's go-to signal, when another joined their party. With wide, curious irridesent blue eyes, the Lovalla teen's skin gave a ripple of bright citrine hues as she learned that it was another Padawan, although he appeared to be an older human. Not that they had time to go over introductions- all of a sudden, that sense of unease, hair-raising sensation went creeping up the back of Zaiya's neck.
Something was out there. Dark, thick, almost smothering. Zaiya could feel it. It made the markings on her face and skin start to dim into grey tones. When she saw something materialize out of the corner of her eyes, even Zaiya couldn't help but give a slight yelp in a start -- especially when it began to talk!
"W... what is that?!" she echoed Casi, taking a step closer to not only continue holding her hand, but almost setting herself in front of her as if to protect her. It didn't seem to be doing anything, other than observing them. But would it continue to do so or should they prepare for a potential attack?
Zaiya immediately turned to Shan for guidance. Maybe he knew?
"Why does it always seem something crazy happens whenever we travel someplace?" Myra's near breathless query was shot up to Makai as she held a hand out to one of Makai's aunts to help her walk up the path.
The heiress had no idea how long it would take before the tidal wave hit or just how high or fast it would move. What she did know is that depending on the scenario, they had to try and evacuate who they could.
A cry out for help caught her attention, and the brunette swung her gaze over towards the direction. It was Iko -- with Persie immediately moving to help the lad, but the girl couldn't do much to help.
Makai's hands were full and Myra wasn't strong enough -- A big burly, tattooed uncle of the Kai family came over and quickly bent down to pick up the boy without any trouble at all.
"Oh thank you!" Myra replied, reaching out for Persie's hand to make sure she could climb up as well.
"Identify yourself." The broad lightsaber hissed and sizzled along the ground, kept low as she squinted at them to see any detail on them that might identify them as friend or foe.
"Woah, easy there, kid," Zel remarked, perhaps coyly. "No reason to be so hostile. I'm little more than a humble scribe documenting a historical event."
He paused as the air lit up with the fanfair of explosives and heavy ordinance. The battle had begun properly now. He gave the young woman an assessment under his helmet, analyzing the young warrior as she threatened him with her blade. From everything he could gather, she seemed to be... A teenager.
Really? Documenting the live combat experience from the first person perspective was something he had wanted to do, but was that really going to be against a kid?
Oh well.
"Ah, but perhaps you have interest in being featured in my documentary," he mused. "I've been needing to document the first person experience of lightsaber combat. Fancy a bit of sparring?"
His aura was laid back and jovial, almost as though he were completely oblivious to the ongoing battle just in the heart of the city.
Kalrath watched the ongoing battle from the comfort of his space station, positioned at a good distance away. It was for analysis, mostly, to better understand the strategy of this new war.
"How interesting..."
A droid crewmember approached the Sith Lord.
"Interesting, sir?"
"I believe that was a third party force that just got itself annihilated," Kalrath mused. "It did not look GA military standard. What did the radiochatter suggest that it was the fleet of?"
"The Tepani Sector," the droid answered. "It is believed that a senator was at the helm."
Kalrath gave a hearty chuckle at this, rattling his chamber.
"Most ammusing," he boomed. "It seems he threw himself at the enemy line before his allies had a chance to provide support. Moving in, dropping his shields... There was no way that any allied fleet would have had the time to move in and cover their flanks. But I suppose that is what happens when you trust military opperations to the hands of local planetary officials. Some are simply not cut out for leadership..." A cruel grin spread under his mask. "I'm sure that his sector will spin a beautiful tale that ignores how hundreds of their people were lead to their slaughter."
It was, perhaps, one of the strangest tactical decisions he had ever seen. He could not help but wonder the kind of legacy such an individual would leave behind, if he had one to leave behind at all. With the way the Dark Empire's fleet was poised, the suicide run was hardly a scratch, let alone anything signifigant. All that death, so little result...
"Shall we mobilize our own squadrons, sir?"
"No need," Kalrath assured with a hand wave. "I have no skin in this game. The Dark Empire is a means to an end. I have no interest in these Mandalorian Protectors or Galactic Alliance. I am simply learning. Let the insects kill themselves. I shall use their deaths to ascend my mind to greater heights."
The droid gave a bow and departed from the observation deck. The Twi'lek Sith Lord remained in his seat, watching as the battle continued to unfold....
"We have reports coming from the Empires assault upon the array Lord Sovereign." "What do they say?" "Apparently there was an attack against the Empire's vessels by way of ramming." "Interesting. How long was this conflict?" "We only started the assault." "How much damage have we done to the Array?" "Very minimal." "So this... Captain? Admiral? just charged forward at the first sign of our assault?" "A corvette apparently raced forward to move into a better position. Called the wrong move, and was targeted heavily." "Wait, so it wasn't the Corvette that bum-rushed Empire vessels?" "No." "Was this individual of importance?" "A politician apparently.
A silence fell over the lord. Yet a smile was held on his voice as he spoke his secondary words.
"What a waste."
Turning to the holocommunication device, Vora contacted a friend of his own.
Units in Reserve:The entire might of Strill Securities' naval assets. All too far to respond. Ally Tag(s):Cessair Ideon | Jurr Awaud
| Galactic Alliance, Mandalorian Protectors and Allies Enemy Tag(s):Sinestra | Marlon Sularen | Dark Empire and Allies
"Transmissions recieved, Fleet Admiral Kote. We are detecting faint traces of gravity well generators within the orbital boundry of the system. The activation of these generators will hinder our evacuation efforts from the station. If you can intercept these vessels and destroy them, it will greatly benefit our main objective. Other than this small detail, you have full operational authority to deploy where you think you are needed."
Nyles looked over the tactical display thoughtfully as the transmission filtered in through his helmet's internal speakers. The enemy ships, two thousand meter long quad gravity well generator equipped vessels were easily picked up by the combined sensor picture of his detachment that was displayed in holographic form on the main battlenet fed tactical display. "Acknowledged, we'll get it done. I'll keep you apprised," he said over the the open line of communication before disconnecting from the ship's transmission systems.
Nyles turned his full attention to the display. As much as he wanted to put ordnance into the bulk of the enemy fleet's firepower, getting into an extended engagement with the bulk of the enemy fleet wasn't going to help them achieve their objective. He had the system chart a route that took them on a slow, but deliberate path around the flank of the enemy formation. Hands flying across the interface with the ease that came with experience, he ordered the formation to move, and to fire anti-sensor and anti-energy weapon Dha Werda-class Countermeasure Gas Rockets at maximum dispersal pattern to cover their advance, as well as for the battlecarriers and battlecruisers to reallocate a unit of power to their engines.
Acknowledgement signals went live across the fleet as the ships began maneuvering to advance. The buzz on the bridge of the Morut grew perceptibly louder as the crew carried out their orders. Clouds of expanding gas showed up on display as the first salvo of rockets detonated. Nyles always believed in having one eye on the enemy, however, and he had no intention of that not being the case here. He tapped at the display, just outside the limits of the gas cloud, ordering deployment of RP-01S 'Sur'ulur' Recon Probes, a pair from the Morut as well as the Gra'tua and the Verdyc. Six recon probes showed on the holographic display, their stealth suites fully active insofar as their control channels reported.
As the formation continued to move forward, sensor picture of the enemy formation as well as that of their allies was restored by the probes. Nyles almost wished it wasn't. What he was seeing was beyond belief. "What in haran are those dini'la di'kutedoing!?" asked an incredulous Emri as she looked on in abject bewilderment at the holographic representation of the House Mercetti forces. Or she had to have been in any case, as insofar as Nyles was concerned, that was the only reaction that was possible.
"I don't shablaknow and I don't think they do either," he breathed. Almost as if to prove his point, the Dark Empire fleet returned fire immediately. Nyles didn't need to be able to see the effect of the enemy salvo to know that this engagement was virtually over before it had even started. What kind of commander had just condemned their men to die pointlessly like this? He hoped to the Manda that for the sake of their men in the very least that maybe they changed their mind and broke off the attack. He couldn't watch this anymore.
Thankfully, a transmission from the clan Awaud forces filtered in through his helmet to distract him, no doubt thanks to Gett routing it without his prompting.
"K'oyaci, Me'sene Tra'alor'an Kote!" The coded message was so old encrypted Mandoa no modern Imperial could identify it, arrived at Nyles flagship. "I would like to join you to support your flank, if you allow. I could not risk my generation fleet in a frontal assault, I hope you understand. But we Awaud are great at harassing supply ships of the enemy, My avant-garde is already skirmishing.
A word of warning! The enemy are demagolka and have already annihilated a skirmishing fleet of Tapani nobles with nuclear missiles using our old Mandalorian shield leeching technology my Keldabe classes are equipped with. I would gladly support any assault of you with it and show these demagolka how the original weapons work,
The Tapani radio chatter call the enemy womprat-fleet. I think we should honor their sacrifice and refer to the demagolka as womprat-fleet in our open communications too. Alternatively, we could name them Ani-Fleet after the whiny mindtick who became Vader. Tyrants always hate satire."
Nyles sighed. He would not call the slaughter that had occurred a sacrifice, but he didn't have the time nor the will to correct the other Mandalorian. The offer of support however, was something he was not going to turn down. As it stood, the formation's aft would be vulnerable if the enemy got creative. "Su'cuy, vod. I appreciate the support. Vor'efor the intel, but we're not worried about their missiles. We're moving to engage the enemy interdictors.Hukaat'kama." Like clan Awaud's, the message was in Mando'a and heavily encrypted, not to mention making full use of their comm suite's location spoofing tech as well. Regardless, he decided to keep the message as short and to the point as was possible.
"They think radiation missiles are dema'golka, wait till they find out we've got trihex rounds in the magazine," sighed Emri, no doubt giving him a tired look from under her buy'ce.
"What they don't know can't hurt them, vod, and I'd much rather someone watch our back," he countered, with a weak smile slowly flickering across his features. Emri gave him a tired knowing nod in response. Nyles returned the nod and then glanced at the display. They were making good progress, it wouldn't be long before their charted course put them in a direct extreme range clear attack vector on the enemy interdictors.
Fleet Action Summary
The fleet fired countermeasure rockets with nagnol, blaster dampener gas and anti-laser aerosol to cover their advance.
The battlecruisers and battlecarriers diverted a portion of power from their shields to engines to hasten the advance.
Stealth probes are launched to poke out from behind the cloud and provide sensor picture of both friendly and hostile ships.
The ships cover most of the course and are almost in extreme engagement range.
STORMTROOPER CLASSIFICATION:
HEAVY WEAPONS SPECIALIST
"We treat sickness. We identify symptoms. We locate germs whether they arise from within or have come from the outside. The longer we wait to identify a disorder, the harder it is to treat the disease."
- Major Partagaz, Andor
Mandalorian SCUM
Crimson hated them. A warrior religion, with shiny armor impervious to hide behind. All their zeal, their tactical prowess, mattered little when they are outnumbered 15-to-1. The Empire was the way forward, order and peace to all through an iron hand supported by the shadow of a million Star Destroyers that filled the vacuum of space in orbital barrage. This religion, the Code of the Mandalore, was nothing less than the antithesis of the Empire's core beliefs. Thus war was always inevitable. Throughout decades, no centuries, of warfare- it will always be execution.
Mandalorian Strike Teams continued to pour from the sky above, like comets that broke the sky and slammed into the ground below- striking at the previously unsuspecting Imperials, drawing their fire. At the same time, other objectives were pursued in quick earnest. Yet the Darktrooper's gaze was focused upon Drego Ruus
and none other.
An HE Shell whizzed toward the trooper, from where he pulled back. The streak of the shell whizzing past him, the heat refracting off his helmet- yet Crimson felt it all the same. He grunted, heaving the cannon upward as the Mandalorian pulled forward with the grapple hook. Crimson quickly understood that Drego wanted to get /close/, which meant he had the weapons for the close encounter. Instinctually, the Darktrooper raised his left forearm- a plasma shield bursting to life just in time as the buckshoots wizzed forward. The shield gave out the buckshot at the final two shots, ripping past the armor and causing sparks to fly forward. The armor tanked it, but any more would have shredded Crimson.
The Imperial wasted no time and pulled the trigger of his cannon. It ripped to life, a stream of death ripping forth from the cannon as anything before Crimson was ripped to shreds. THWA-THWA-THWA-THWA came forth, Crimson focused on the Warmaster most of all. Some of the rounds ripped past, catching some Galactic fodder and lesser Mandalorian warriors alike, but the Darktrooper understood who the real threat was.
The Stormtrooper's voice came forth robotic, inhuman- <'MANDALORIAN. YOU HAVE COME HERE TO DIE.'> After his cannon burst, Crimson quickly retreated- vaulting over rubble created by a previously thrown thermo-detonor. He slammed his shoulder against the ground, making himself small as he prepared for the Mandalorian's return of fire. Or, his assault upon his position.
To Drego, Crimson wore the typical Darktrooper armor; but instead, personalized. The symbol of NIO was scratched upon his left pauldron, with straight lines etched by a knife all throughout the armor sections. Each scratch symbolizes a soul that the Darktrooper had taken, and it ranged in the thousands.
Crimson's radio begins to creak as a mass-announcement is made; ATTENTION ALL REACTION TEAMS, ATTENTION ALL REACTION TEAMS
HOSTILES HAVE ESTABLISHED LZS IN THE FOLLOWING SECTORS:
SECTOR 1, SECTOR 3, SECTOR 8, SECTOR 6
ORDERS FOR REACTION TEAM AS FOLLOWS: HOLD THE LINE.
ARMORED STORMTROOPER REGIMENT 422ND IS EN ROUTE TO
ALL ENGAGED SECTORS.
Behind Crimson, more regiments of Stormtroopers poured from the streets, with the skies beginning to be filled further and further with Imperial reinforcements as their reaction teams finally scrambled to action. TIE Fighters, like flies, began to buzz as they screamed.
The Dark Empire will not lose this battle without a fight.
What the hell is going on? Different Alliance vessels were all just being sent forward with reckless abandon! Looking in the helmet, the Manda Tactical Battle Net updated me that the various fleets were suddenly just charging forward. A shake of the head as I just focused on myself. Knowing that the Mandalorian Protector Fleet would compensate for any idiocy of decisions made by fleeting of the Alliance Side.
Moving the Bes'uiik to the side, I used the magnetic adherence systems in the armor to apply myself to the outside of the ship. Focusing the force within myself, The boots deactivated. Yet, as I did so, the natural gravity of the Array began to pull me through the hull. Phasing through the metal, the wiring, the shielding. All the way into a hallway. One in which I stood. Blaster bolts flew through the air. Upon looking to the direction of them, I could see their target was down the hall of a T-junction. My body phased back into normalcy before I rounded the corner to to see a host of Jedi individuals using their sabers to block bolts as much as they could.
The power of the Dark side of the force flowed through the area though. There was quite a bit of light, but I could feel something off. Something was messing with them. As blaster bolts came through the hall, I reached out my hand with the force. Hitting the control panel. With a loud hiss, the doors began to shut and close off the halls between the Jedi and the Empire grunts who were firing upon them. In that time, My hands reached out to aid the Jedi to prevent bolts from flying past.
"Mandalorian Protector Chaaj. I'm on your side."
Yet there was still the entity who seemed to be messing with them. Taking a hold of the lightsaber hilt upon my belt, I left it in my hand. The Dragon's Maw open, but not breathing its plasma. Ready and able. My visor flew through those who were here. Clearly this Jedi wielding their lightsaber blocking the bolts from earlier was a Knight at least. So I spoke to him directly.
"You Jedi don't have much time. That Blast door will only hold them so long."
Vizor turning to door, heat signatures were building, and electronic devices that were smaller only told me that they were attempting to set up detonator type weapons. The helm turned back to them.
"Game plan? Who of you can disable bombs? And who can keep the heat off of the disabler? Soresu Lightsaber forms?"
I kept the Dark feeling that was here, lurking, watching on my mind. Careful with what was happening. Clearly, there was more than just the Grunts here. if the Jedi can work together, I can watch their rear line. Making sure nothing else keeps them from doing their job.
Location: Gala - Sea of Graves
Objective: BYOO
Tags: Valery Noble
The climb was slow and careful. Katarine was hampered slightly by the wet exposed rock, losing friction in her footholds as her boots worked to find traction. A presence washing over her made the Jedi smile and gave her the resolve to keep going.
By the time she reached the top she was panting slightly and wiped the sweat from her brow. She was unsurprised to see Master Noble waiting for her, clearly having made the climb earlier.
“You could have lowered a rope.” She smirked and smiled as way of greeting. She was pleased to see the fellow Jedi. Valery had a way of calming nerves and offering reassurance with her mere presence. It made the mission seem far more possible to have the woman along.
"You can hear the chaos outside. The actual battle has kicked off."
Aris glanced up to his companion. He wasn't smiling this time around. A deeply serious expression was all he had for the moment, if only because they were quite deep in enemy territory now. Seszil floated by his other side, hovering close to act as a shield if need be. Or just attack if necessary. Ayhan and him were there to help, but unlike the others they were best suited for combat. Hopefully Zaiya Ceti
and Mahsa
were still safe with Shan Pavond
.
"Does that mean we should start destroying things or..?"
Location: The Citadel
Allies: Galactic Alliance | Mandalorian Protectorate | Aris Noble
Enemies: Dark Empire
An explosion outside shook the walls of the Citadel outside, shaking dust from the ceiling of the empty cellar that Ayhan and Aris Noble
had snuck into. Crawling through drainage pipes wasn't exactly what Ayhan had expected when he'd been told joining the Jedi would mean he'd be helping people, but it was reality.
"You can hear the chaos outside. The actual battle has kicked off," Aris said as the shouting and blasterfire began. The boy's face was set, taught with somber duty. Mahsa
had had a similar look on her face before. It was impossible for Ayhan to miss it, even though he'd tried his best to not look at her as she'd boarded the shuttle to the station to help with evacuations and render medical aid. And now, he just tried not to think about her period.
Instead, Ayhan wondered about the sword hovering around Aris. It had taken a moment for Ayhan to get used to it. The glint of steel from the corner his eye as the thing flew about Aris had Ayhan grasping for his weapon every five seconds for the better part of an hour before the Firronthix acclimated.
Another explosion shook the building, and Ayhan stood, quietly making his way towards the door, his unlit lightsaber in hand. "Does that mean we should start destroying things or...?" Ayhan kicked the door open with enough force that it flew off it's hinges and collided with a body on the other side, the thick sheet of metal slamming into the wall and bringing whatever poor soul had been standing there with it.
A number of Dark Empire personnel, troopers, looked at the now displaced door, or at the spot where their companion had just been. Then, the ignition of a lightsaber drew their attention, and shouts and blasterfire began to fill the Citadel halls as well.
Objective 2: Search & Rescue!
She’d picked up his emotions shortly after the sounds of his steps, the Kazelrrian’s attention shifting away from their guardian to look back at the hallway from which they’d come. A hand remained resting against the hilt of her lightsaber, ready to grasp her weapon and ignite it if needed, before her shoulders finally relaxed as the man introduced himself.
Another padawan just like them, though Mahsa couldn’t remember seeing his face in the shuttle that had brought her here. She noticed the slight grimace on the Mirialan’s face, though the girl was smart enough to not comment about it as the knight turned to her next. His hand moved through the air, the motions somewhat familiar to the Kazelrrian—had she seen them mirrored by her master, or perhaps another Jedi in the Temple?—before a warm sensation carefully enveloped her.
The shield was thin, and their guardian’s warning rang loud and clear inside her head, but it would offer some protection if the worst came to happen… and that was always better than none. A nod of thanks was given before she listened to the plan that Shan shared with them, adjusted now that their fifth member had caught up, but try as she might Mahsa couldn’t find it in herself to fully focus on his words.
Something had her senses on edge, the fine hairs behind her neck prickling just as a shiver ran up the Kazelrrian’s spine.
"Lead them here, and treat those with major wounds… Got it, Master Shan—" Muttered instructions quickly gave way to a verbal acknowledgement, though it was cut short when an unexpected yelp from Zaiya rung against her right ear. A wince crossed her features just as Mahsa reached for the hilt of her blade and unclipped it from her waist.
Casi was the first to point out the figure, with Zaiya quickly following as the Lovalla stepped in front of their youngest member. "I d-dunno… how did she get here?" There had been no sound to alert them of their presence until they had finally materialized, nothing at all… except perhaps that foreboding feeling that lingered heavily in her chest.
Another scream from the trapped civilians had the Kazelrrian reluctantly move her gaze away from the specter and in their direction, the compounding panic and fear emanating from the group harder to ignore as Mahsa hesitated on what to do. Did they ignore this… thing, and proceed along with Master Shan’s plan?
Golden eyes peered back at the Mirialan with a silent question, they couldn’t—shouldn’t—act until he’d done so, but every second that trickled away from them could mean life or death for the people they sought to save. It was then she felt the presence of another as they rounded a corner, before she felt the Force shift as the new figure manipulated it to close the doors between hallways and offer the civilians—and themselves—a few precious moments to get their act together.
"I have s-some experience with bombs… but I think they were older models?" The Cage had been the home for a varying array of unwanted trials and tribulations, with the spindly Kaminoan always looking for new ways of testing the abilities of his experiments. However she had no way of knowing what type of bombs the troopers were activating, and keenly aware that one wrong move could spell disaster for everyone present—including themselves.
Which left deflecting blasters and, from what she could see at least, it seemed like Mahsa was the only padawan present with a lightsaber of her own. "A-And my master has been drillin—training me in Soresu lately." However, wouldn’t that leave Zaia alone with the task of checking over and guiding the civilians towards Casi and Raphael? What if some of them were really wounded and required more assistance than a single pair of hands could provide?
The inky stains at the tips of her hair slowly began to spread higher into the strands. There were so many choices and variables—and each one carried their own set of consequences, not just for her but the others too… how was she supposed to know which was the correct one to follow?
Quietly the Kazelrrian wished that Ayhan
was here… he always knew what to do.
Lightsaber | Padawan Apparel | Satchel with various medical herbs, basic ointments & bandages | Survival Kit
The Nomad Fleet of Clan Awaud took position and her heavily armoured gunboats and snub fighters formed a point defense screen around her allied ships flank and rear. The capital ships protected the stream of supply freighters and shuttles restocking the armada.
Like in the ancient times as the fleet was created, the doctrine was not seeking glory in battle but providing support for the glory seekers. A necessary task for every navy, even the freedom loving Mandalorians.
Meanwhile, their avant-garde were the ghosts in the fog of war on the planet. Deploying, Redeploying commandos at the LZ and raining down payloads on the heads of the Imps and supply containers for the allies like some kind of gift giving Lifeday wookies.
Some people called their tactics cowardly, guerrilla or even terrorist, but every army need its commandos to take out vital targets behind the enemy lines.
That was the job of the Hawkbat Squadron of Clan Awaud.
For the time being, everything was in the best possible order and no one came near the prison. True, this would have been rather difficult, as this part was quite deep. Deep is perhaps not the best word, but rather in the interior of the building. And the enemy hasn't got in here yet. Perhaps they didn't think there were prisoners here, but wanted something else. I had no information on that at the moment. Perhaps because that was not my job, but only to interrogate and perhaps torture my guest.
For a few moments, I toyed with the idea that maybe I should do that, because how fun and amusing it would be if by the time the rescue team arrived, all they found was a brain-dead person. With telekinetic powers, it was easy to make sure the brain was damaged beyond repair. Yeah, maybe I should do that. Double profit. And the guards here were able to handle things without me. And if not, well, my presence wouldn't make much difference. It's not that I don't consider myself a great fighter or anything, but if we're overrun, even an under armed person doesn't make much difference, especially against Jedi. Or against full-armoured Mandalorians.
I quickly ran through the options in my thoughts, and it really did seem the most efficient way to go back and start dealing with my guest. Especially now that I was no longer just a special agent, but the director of my own department. I couldn't afford to make a mistake before, and I certainly couldn't now. The only option left was to trust the soldiers fighting in the Citadel and everyone on our side to handle this situation. The only "small" problem with that was that, like most of my family, I had problems trusting others.
I sighed, I knew I had to and I couldn't wait any longer. I had to finish this job before the enemy got here. I turned to the officers who were here with me.
"I'm going back to the prisoner, I trust you will do your part. You know where to reach me if you do need my help." I told them, and got a "yes, ma'am" response from the officers.
After that, I gave them a nod and then headed back to the room where my prisoner's energy cell was. I'd already wasted far more time than I should have, and it was time to get to work.
Alor of Clan Harert, Sith Lord, Hellwolf of Mandalore
Information
Objective: Defend the Citadel Location: Citadel of Caelitus, Carlac Equipment: Beskar'gam | 2x Beskad | 2x Su'arnr be Tracyn | 1x red blade lightsaber Tags:Domina Prime
[ Direct ] | Open
<"Mandalorian or ur-Kittât"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
Dodhorn was in no hurry to get to the battle; she had learned a long time ago that there was no need to haste, the fight and the battle would wait for the warriors anyway. Or, rather, she was no longer so young and irresponsible as to rush into a fight. No one should misunderstand the woman, Hellwolf loved fighting and wars, but the woman was patient and a warlord. The former Mand'alor the Ruthless liked to be able to see through a fight before choosing an opponent. This had the advantage for her of allowing her to choose the best opponent for herself. The woman walked down the corridor with infinite elegance, she had over two hundred years to learn. She walked as if she were wearing a not very heavy suit of armour.
As she walked, she did not kill conspicuously, though she could feel in the Force and hear in her ears the blood pulsing in the living, or she could feel the precious blood flowing on the ground. As always, she felt hungry, but she had learned a long time ago to control her hunger and thirst for blood. It did not make her any more excited or in a hurry. She was one of those people for whom fighting was an art, not just a place where they could get red steam in front of their eyes and fight like a raging beast. What barbarism!
The woman's journey was unobtrusive, her two beskad jaws each slashing was a death sentence as she hurried down the corridor very quickly, thanks to Force Speed and her ability from being a sangnir. In her case, no one noticed that death was approaching, nor could the survivors see her leaving. All that was visible was a blurred trail in her wake. Dodhorn finally came to a stop when she arrived at the spot where the massive massacre was taking place, courtesy of a rather strange-looking woman. She was clearly enjoying herself and acting like a predatory pup having its first taste of blood.
<"You call this a fight? And you call yourself a Mandalorian? This is the work of a bloodthirsty beast, a barbarian, not a civilised being..."> the woman spoke in a disdainful and disgusted tone when she saw Domina in the middle of the bloodbath.
Enigmatic hell hounds croon havoc, vexation upon the bloodied sands. birthed into a world of lecherous animosity and fevered bedlam based upon the preaching of depravity. Based within the throes of the primeval world, of primal instinct and fervid inamorata. The old testaments, and wills upon which the livid enchantments of history confound upon, ligaments and tissues of a lascivious heart of archaic, rustic mystery.
The Chaos and Discord unfolding around the Mad Witch of Mandalore was like a song most sweet. To many, war and violence was like screaming but to Dima it always sounded more like a gentle hymn into her ear. A sweet lullaby of evolution that filled the strange Mandalorian Primarch with an incredible delight so pure it sent Dima into a devilish cackle as she stalked through the citadel corridors with a visible skip in her step as she ventured deeper and deeper into the belly of the beast.
While Dodhorn Harert
moved with an easy grace, refined and proper as a civilized lady of war. Domina Prime moved with almost the complete opposite stride. That massive tail flicked and swished about as her lower hands bloodied remained neatly clasped behind her back with each frolicking skip and those hook-like talons on her feet scraping across the marble floors and unleashing a spark of light with nearly every skip she made. Hymning to herself as the Xeno looked rather pleased with herself despite the carnage left in her wake.
"You call this a fight? And you call yourself a Mandalorian? This is the work of a bloodthirsty beast, a barbarian, not a civilized being..." The Voice of the Hellwolf reached the Primes ear as Dominas frolic came to a sudden and abrupt stop.
The visor of her mask focusing slightly on the fellow Mandalorian as Dima ever so slowly…leaned her skull to the side in a vicious head tilt as she inspected the Mandalorian woman. Dima, unfortunately, did not fully grasp the exact context of the insult and looked over her shoulder at all the gore and carnage left in the hallway behind her.
"Uhhhhh…well, no, a fight is usually more exciting! Dima just thinks it was fun! And besides, who doesn't love FREE FOOD!" She giggled girlishly towards the former Mandalore. Domina, in all her naive whimsy essentially conveyed that in the end. There were few who posed enough challenge to her might to even be called a 'threat' yet alone a 'fight'. These people were just free food on a menu meant to be eaten, there was no 'fight'. Not yet.
Dima BOUNDED up towards Dodhorn extremely carelessly and recklessly.
"But yeah! Dima IS a Mandalorian! Not only that, but This One is The Destroyers FAVORITE daughter. Because who else shares his dream as Dima does?" She sang, the young cavegirl becoming rather smitten at the mention of Ha'rangir, the only god she could truly understand. "And yeah you're right, cousins say Dima should like, ya know. Learn to read and stuff and be all 'FANCY', but it's like…really hard ya know? Dima just likes runnin and jumpin and climbin!" She gushed, her eyes shifting over Dodhorn a bit as the Xeno brandished her claws. Neglecting to mention the other things she liked such as clawing, biting, devouring the blood and bones of the mighty who challenged her dominance.
"But that's ok! One day, Dima is gonna be a Mandalorian Warrior Princess!" She cooed as she stepped even CLOSER. Now merely inches apart from the Vampire. "This One has been picking her teeth with the bones of godlings for too long to stop now! And if no one can stop This One, then Dima deserves whatever she can take." She mused rather plainly, tapping the chin of her mask.
Dodhorn, if she even bothered to analyze for a moment Dimas behavior. Would quickly realize that the poor girl was…incredibly naive and strangely innocent. Just a girl from a cave who was adopted by a culture that gave her purpose in her indiscriminate destruction. But there was something that needed to be understood that very, VERY few mandalorians of the current era failed to fully understand about Dima.
She was perhaps the purest representation of the Mandalorian spirit. Stagnation was the soul killer to her, and there was no greater alter to stagnation then modern civilization, order and the galactic society as a whole. Domina, in all her childishness, wanted one thing in the end.
Evolution perfected. To see all life in the galaxy pushed to its absolute breaking point to see what lifeforms had the stuff to adapt and force their evolution, and which would wither and perish. To make all life strong and stoke the flames of an eternal war to forever lock the cycle of destruction and growth.
In more ways than Dodhorn could POSSIBLY even know. She was right.
Dima just an uncivilized bloodthirsty cavegirl.
And in the same breath. One of the greatest Mandalorian Duelist to ever adopt the creed.
No gun. No blade. No explosives or tricks. Just claws, teeth, and a dream. And as Dima lifted a hand in a dainty, girlish wave she practically treated Dodhorn as if she were her sibling she had always grown up with despite their opposition.
"So hey, do you like…know where Dima can find a REAL fight to be all 'civilized' and stuff like ya said? Dima would keep beating up the little soldier boys but they uhhhhhh…they aren't as satisfying to hunt and Dima thinks the gods will laugh at Dima if she does not have a PROPER battle for them as tribute! This One must maintain her image in the eyes of The Destroyer yes?" Dima explained like a bubbly religious nerd as she looked past Dodhorns shoulder. "By the way, how DID you get here so quickly? Dima thought she was the first one here! You must be super fast and smart! This place is so big Dima has NO idea where she's going!" She confessed. Telling the enemy that she was basically lost in enemy territory.
Shot multiple times in the chest a stormtrooper flipped over the railing to the floor below. Coming down stairs now wielding dual pistols Minerva advanced onto the railing, seeing the firefight unfolding below throughout headquarters. Talons not engaging on the ground with the enemy troopers were flying up blasting targets from higher angles just as they did many times before. Still the Imperials fought on with dogged determination and ruthlessness expected of them.
One of her commandos got shot through the neck and crashed to the north wall. Another flyer got clipped into the leg before being shredded by repeater fire. Spotting the gunner supported by other troopers taking cover at the main office on the side, Minerva was about to use one of her vambrace's missiles again when they fired on her position.
Forced to ascent via jetpack to evade she fired with both pistols but wasn't hitting anything from the distance. Soon the Imperial team were interrupted with a pair of flashbacks that erupted among them. They cried out in pain before Gakot and four fellow commandos descending onto them in close quarters, shooting with a scatter gun and light repeaters. Within moments it was over up top. Proud of their handiwork Minerva she nodded swinging around to search for new targets.
Sure enough she found three troopers trying to fall back to the next office stall but the Mandalorian fell toward them unleashing her vambrace repulsor. It scattered and knocked them down, leaving the trio vulnerable to the other Talons that didn't hesitate to gun them down. Getting to her feet Minerva noted it was over, with a devasted office space filled with corpses, mostly Imperial.
From the main office Gakot declared.
"Hey Boss other fire teams had secured the rest of the station. We also just found several vehicles in the garage."
Nodding in approval she ordered.
"Set the charges and get our wounded onboard those craft. We'll move onto the next objective."
"Good as done." Was the former pirate's reply.
While covered by the three platoons outside they soon departed. Most like Minerva flew on their jetpacks while by the "newly acquired" armored speeders, four in total. Just minutes after their departure much of the station exploded in a sizable bright orange blaze and what remained collapsed to itself.
Some of the rounds ripped past, catching some Galactic fodder and lesser Mandalorian warriors alike, but the Darktrooper understood who the real threat was.
The Stormtrooper's voice came forth robotic, inhuman- <'MANDALORIAN. YOU HAVE COME HERE TO DIE.'> After his cannon burst, Crimson quickly retreated- vaulting over rubble created by a previously thrown thermo-detonor.
"No. I've come here to watch you do so."Drego growled in a similar, processed tone as he landed right in front of the darktrooper, the blaster bolts from the cannon thudding on his chest, meeting beskar and durasteel. He could feel every hit in his chest, and he was sure he'd be bruised in the morning, but he weathered the storm. With a swift moment, he quick drew and fired a pistol, firing three well aimed ion bolts at the darktrooper. One aimed at the blaster cannon, hoping to disable it. The second, aimed at the personal shield, and the third, aimed right at the man's chestplate, hoping to disable his systems all together. With his other hand, he followed up the ion bolts with a final double barrel of buckshot at the dakrtrooper, before finally returning the shotgun to his back, one more feeling the hit of a stormtrooper taking potshots at him in the back. Without reacting, a single whistling bird fired from his backpack, whizzing into the air, before hitting the trooper and exploding in a violent red mist."I'M BUSY! FUCK OFF!"
Behind Crimson, more regiments of Stormtroopers poured from the streets, with the skies beginning to be filled further and further with Imperial reinforcements as their reaction teams finally scrambled to action. TIE Fighters, like flies, began to buzz as they screamed.
The Dark Empire will not lose this battle without a fight.
<This is Drego's Personal Assistant Tanya, speaking to all Mandalorian Channels. Enemy Reinforcements are moving in. The skies are now contested. Please be advised, we'll need air superiority fighters in the area ASAP.> The sound of ties zooming overhead was met with contempt as Drego saw Mandalorian fighters whiz into the atmosphere, ready to take on the enemy fighters.
Perise was struggling up the overly large hills, through the vegetation. She didn't expect to be tromping through hills and thick tropical brush. Hence, the adorable blue dress made for her by Chi Chuchi, finally drug out of her closet to be rotation since they were closer to the wedding now. Legs were getting scraped up and worst of all, dirty.
Iko had fallen, but one of the bigger, burlier of Makai's uncles picked him up like the teenager weighed nothing, broad grin on his face the entire time. She blinked, as if not believing it, wondering why Makky didn’t look like that.
“Thank yous.”
Persephone could have helped but it would have been a much, much, greater struggle than what Makky’s Uncle was able to do.
A deafening roar, the capital ship crashed, half into one of the mountain ranges, half in the ocean. While the cove acted as protection against the most harsh of sea waves, it was no match for a massive ship half-crashing into the water. Waves quickly got high, pushing up the beach and beyond, filling the village streets.
More water was rushing in, tossing fishing vessels like toys.
Setting down the little redhead now that they had reached a leveled out part of the hilly terrain, Makai reached down and helped a few of his younger cousins up, having crossed through the vegetation with him. Most of the elders were mostly up by now, if not more than half-way, which seemed more than high enough to stay away from the waves currently destroying the village.
Water was a destructive force. More so when it came in violently and as quick as this.
“We have horrible luck.I hope this isn’t a foreshadowing of our honeymoon, I really want those two weeks of day-drinking and surfing on Spilursa. Let’s hope the Core holds around Alderaan.”
Not to mention around Chandrila. Most of their things were still in Ellie’s beachside apartment, they should probably think about contingency plans if the home came into the line of fire. Something to think about. Probably more do and less think, if he was being honest.
“Makai.” His grandfather was speaking up. “It might be time we take you up on your offer to move.”
Apparently he wasn’t the only one thinking of pulling up the tent poles and looking for another place to settle into.
“Maybe Arda. Re-start the family fishing business, export the fish and kelp…its quiet out there, you guys need quiet after everything that’s happened.”
More waves crashed into the village, beginning to damage the structures below, set off by the chain reaction of force from the now sinking ship.
Shan Pavond
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Mahsa
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Zaiya Ceti
| Casaline Ryiah |
Raphael Gallustrade
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Onrai
