Never Tell Me The Odds [Protectorate Invasion of Vergesso]

[Ayden Cater]

In the days leading up to the Druckenwell invasion, there had always been the knowledge that the Confederacy would put up a fight. No sovereign state lays down and gives up in the face of opposition at the first sign of trouble. Some might hide under the skirt of their superiors, but never would a power just lay down and die. So it was that plans were made for a protracted war.

And then one person cosigned a billion souls to death.

It only took the misguided actions of one person and one of the greatest tragedies unfolded on galactic news. Even now, weeks later, Druckenwell still smoldered and struggled to come to terms with the grave atrocities that had been visited upon it. Since then the Protectorate and Confederacy had engaged several times in skirmishes, testing the other's defenses and resolve. During these skirmishes, Ayden began to formulate a plan to strike the next blow against the Confederacy.

Carefully leaking intel that the Protectorate was going to attack Haseria, he then followed up with a build-up of military forces at the edges of Druckenwell. When the time came, he led the Protectorate fleet into battle against the Confederacy in an unnamed system not far from Haseria, publicly as part of the Haserian invasion. In truth, it was a ruse.

While the bulk of the Confederate forces were tied up, a smaller group launched from Maramere. An Inquisitor-class frigate had stealthily coasted into the Vergesso asteroid system a week before and had begun silent reconnaissance of the Confederate assets present. It was not a vital location to the Confederates as evidenced from the small garrison. And while it was not militarily important, it was a tactically critical system. The Vergesso Asteroids represented a backdoor that the Confederates could use to slip into Protectorate space. But a large force could not be sent to the system as that would have alerted the Confederacy.

So it was that a small Protectorate fleet dropped out at the edges of the system and began scrambling all long-range communications. There was only a small window of opportunity with which to take the system before the Confederacy would realize the true target. Would the strike team have enough time? It was a long shot, but as a famous smuggler once said, "Never tell me the odds."

----------

OOC:

So here we are. Invasion #2. This one was planned between me and Salem and has a few unique restriction.

1. Ten participants per side
2. No Allies
3. Fleet limit: 6 km

Objectives:

Claim the Garrison / Defend the Garrison
Secure the local mining facility and Verpine colony
Rout Confederate naval forces / Repel Protectorate naval forces

The folks that are participating in this will be the "little folks", characters that have not had their breakout moment into fame, or infamy. Every one knows what to expect when the likes of Ashin Varanin, Siobhan Kerrigan, Val'Ryss Zankarr or Darth Doritos Voracitos rolls into a thread. This invasion isn't about them. It's a chance for new characters to shine. So have it.
The invasion will conclude at midnight, EST, at the end of the month.

 

[Katagiri Ike]

OBJECIVE: Claim the Garrison
ALLIES: [member="Nyos Val"] [member="Dicer"] [member="Peyton Steele"] [member="Aeron Kreelan"] [member="Canal Tal'Verda"] [member="Noah Corek"] [member="Ilsa Voll"] [member="C.C"]
ENEMIES: CIS

Katagiri sat in the seat, her hand pressing on the white of the Mk II/H Battle Armorhttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/24137-battle-armor-iih/ without a helmet and her mane of white hair wrapping around it like a cloak. Black eyes peering out at the asteroids from a white face while a white electrum saber hilt gleamed in the lights of the bridge. "Bring us in carefully and send coordinates we shall hit the garrison and prep the toys." She rose finally and while the smallest of the soldiers looking on the bridge she had a look at them while walking with her hands at her side. Pale white skin and she stopped at the armory.

"Load up boys." Katagiri looked at the HBD-300 Droid Series that were ready to deploy with her, the heavy drop ship being loaded up with a four of each to help. One All Terrain Shock Enforcer (AT-SE) finishing heavy weapons while there were speeders and men. As [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] had proven a heavy walker against legions of enemies makes for a lot of bodies... and that was before you threw the walker from frustration. She touched one of the BTI-CR and slid it to her belt for a side arm, a BTI-HPBR rifle to give some range. As much as she wanted to take a bolter and tear into things it was something you needed to heft and she wanted some mobility. Several AFU Grenades going to her belt as needed.

The men with her followed suit getting heavy weapons and long range to build a squad before she was off walking again and entering the ship. While she went towards the walker and had a grin on her face. Turning around to speak when the doors closed with a sealing hiss. The Lord Protector wasn't here, didn't mean he wasn't going to pay attention just meant things might be accedited for good or ill to others. She expected on the ground for Noah Corek to take command as leader of the Pyre, she expected the ones with them to work hard and work well together. They were the lesser knowns who might be the next generation or they might be the expendables giving a chance for the Protectorate to get a victory.

"Listen up." She felt the ship shudder as it took off from the hanger heading out. "I know this isn't going to be as good as the Lord Protector, some of us might be questioning what we're about to do without his leadership but you are soldiers in the Protectorate. You have been trained to be the best and protect the people, remmeber what happened at Drunkenwell, when faced with dangerous odds the CIS killed billions. We cannot let that happen again their possible scorched earth policy is a dangerous gambit to keep worlds from being taken by holding the populations hostage."

She really wasn't sure if it was any good but she had her inky black eyes watching them all. "We will fight, we will do what we can to distract and achieve victory here. We will move throughout the CIS and push through their space. We will push to Companion Grek and see theat their influence does not leave this galaxy. We will go to where their leadership has hidden away those who gave the orders to kill our people, to attack our worlds and to kill their own instead of retreating." Now she had a little bluster and didn't feel the smallest in the area cocking the rifle. "So lets go and fight them."

She finished with a shrug as the drop ship jostled and shook, the walker canopy opening and she climbed in. Once those doors opened she was ready with the soldiers and droids to come out firing upon the garrison and would see what they could unleash.

 

[Neskar A'toll]

Objective = Protect The Garrison!
Allies = CIS
Enemies = Democracy Loving Hippies, Otherwise Known As The OP

"You're doing it wrong, you useless waste of space! Your mother should've stayed at home when she met your father!" Neskar growled, almost spitting in his unrelenting disgust.

"Sir?" the trooper spoke to his unimaginable peril.

"Are you questioning me, you incompetent, utterly contemptible lackwit? Do it again. Do. Not. Miss. The target is there. How can you miss? Are you as stupid as you are ugly? Lord above, what an incredible array of idiocy we have on display here!" Neskar replied, his voice silencing all else.

"Yes sir!"

"Don't back chat me!"

And such was the training set upon the inane troopers by the freelance merc, Neskar A'toll. Straining and brutal, all mistakes were hammered out with a blade of cruel wit, for surely humiliation was a more effective tool than white lies. The truth was, if they missed in battle, they would die, and by extension, it'd be Neskar's fault, which wouldn't do at all.

The Mandalorian growled across the shooting range of the barracks in the garrison, fully clad in his beskar'gam, keeping all of his weapons on him. All errors were swiftly dove on, all mistakes removed. These men may had hated him, but they feared him also. But Neskar knew they would depend upon him in the heat of battle, and they all worked as a single unit. If one was injured, all helped, taking parts of the injured's pack, aiding him medically and so forth. The camaraderie wrought through their hatred of Neskar would allow them to survive. At least he hoped that was the case. Ridding the uncertainty from his mind, he kept pacing up and down the firing range, shots ringing from the repeating rifles of the troopers. Adequate. Satisfied, he swayed away from the range, desperately needing a drink.

*

The black ale tumbled from the tall bottle almost elegantly, spiralling down into the wide glass. He grinned, having shed his helmet, grasped the glass with a swift movement, bringing it to his mouth. This would be a fiiiiiiiiiine dri-

The station shuddered. It rocked, and rumbled terribly, shaking all of the items in the break room, smashing glass shattered on the floor, he had dropped the ale glass!

"Oh, for fu-"

He stopped himself cursing. That would be too foul. He judged the station had been rocked by some kind of.. space.. earthquake.. Shaking his head, he lamented the loss of his liqueur, and listened in on the radio to see what had occurred.

"Ah, I hate surprises."

 

[General Mayhem]

(OOC: And now for my debut, as a CIS force. Let me know if I'm doing too much establishing.)


--Garrison--


The general known as mayhem had begun doing what she loved best--inspecting her troops. Powerful bastions of the techno union's cleverness, the clankers were synched to her whims. She had to admit, this would be fascinating. It was a quiet evening, but preparations had to be made, allowing for a force that would one day strike fear into the hearts of the CIS's enemies.



The maneuvers were basic parade marches and weapons inspection, allowing her to keep a watchful photoreceptor over the garrison. Alas, if war was a dance, than the preparations for war were a maddening flurry, setting pieces in place like a board game or a playwright. Little did she know the script was about to call for some improvisation.


This would be a good day, the droid cheerfully thought to herself.

"Lieutenant BA-957," she said to the clanker calmly, "How goes our patrols."

"Good, Ma'am," the droid said with steely sort of affirmation in its voice. "Our units are maintaining standard patrols, primarily in areas outside the atmospheric barriers. Organic troops are staying within garrison confines, primarily."

"Understood, Lieutenant." She stood in the command room, taking in the scenery. The entire facility was mostly just quadanium steel and raw energy, but it's calm, cool grey reminded her for the foundries where she was made. He "birthplace" if one could refer to such a term. Organics were so...odd. Was she becoming sentimental as well, from discussing things such as homeland and hope with her human and droid colleagues? It was hard to say.

 

[Ikki Ike]

OBJECTIVE: Repel Protectorate naval forces
ALLIES: [member="Atretes Rhoujen"] [member="Neskar A'toll"] [member="Irys Arist'lar"] [member="General Mayhem"] [member="Ruusan"] [member="Seanna Vel"][member="Nima Ven"]
ENEMIES: Omega Protectorate

Ikki stood very still on the ship, in the middle of the CIS navy they were all moving and her hands slid to the gloves. Securing the gloves while the spools of monofilament wire were there. Small diamond tips to be secured and while not as useful as the Monofilament net launcher on her hip with reloads she was not moving. Her outfit flawlessly smoothed out and headpiece not moving as her small stature kept her hidden in the background of the other knights. The small of her back holding a Powerblade and she felt the weight of the CZ-834 Templar Crossbow on her back. A CZ-835 Machine Pistol on her hip opposite the net launcher. It was heavier to move but she could carry it, utility, side arm, main and melee.

The clanker droid for boarding the enemy ships should come in handy... She hoped but she wasn't here to try and kill the lord protector. She was here to navigate to the bridge and hopefully allow their naval forces a strong chance to succeed, she was certain in the attack she could get good and disappeared with the vents or side jeffries tubes to lead her to the bridge. Her mouth continued to silently speak as she was going over what her master taught her briefly... not much he had thrown a ball to push and it hit her in the face, or when she tried to run and failed but strangely she hadn't gotten lost as she moved from foot to foot. Allowing a spool to untangle and hang loose ready to be taunt and wrapped around something.

 

[Djorn Bline]

Objection: Garrison
Allies: Protectorate forces
Enemies: Confederate forces

Most of the soldiers that were on the Stealth Inquisitor Frigate were DreadGuard. It was perfect since the Fed's couldn't pick up the Inquisitor and they couldn't sense those who were Fett clones. Canal, the captain and leader of the DreadGuard, was within that bunch of clones that were aboard the Inquisitor. After Druckenwell, the DreadGuard grew as it left the confederacy and joined the rest of their brethren who were now considered as Protectorate. They still wore their Phase IV Confederate armor as it left the corrupt government.

Their job was simple before the fleet arrived: do reconnaissance missions and discreetly reply back to Protectorate forces. After the reports from their scouts, the troops within the frigate knew what their obstacles would. The squadron under Canal's command were wearing their phrik True Mandolorian Ori'Ramikad Armor and were gearing up as the day of battle would begin. It sure was a small unit but these weren't infantry soldiers. No, these were well bred state of the art commandos and to the Captain mind's, they would do their job well.

"Alright, boys," the clone said to his squadron of twenty DreadGuard commandos, "we all know what happened. Thanks to these di'kuts General Calico died in cobat with these assholes," or so he thought. He read the report and noticed that Calico was confirmed KIA due to a space battle, "they will pay. They will pay, and with interest of everything that they have done to us. This, is revenge! Now you will show to not just me, but to the enemy and our fallen brothers that you really the best commandos that came out from those tubes on Kamino. Show no mercy. Even if its a soldier pleading for mercy." They all yell as they heard his eternal words.

"Now our objective is this Garrison. They Feds won't know what hit them since they don't we're here. ODF soldiers will be drawing their attention and while thays happening we'll be trying to infiltrate through the west side. Once we're in, release hell and blow it up. Now I'm not sure if we'll make it through. But if we don't, then it was an honor serving with you and our brethren, and we'll see each other on the other side. Now," he said as he loaded his BTI-CC13, "who's ready to kill?"

Then the MK-14 drop ship landed on the asteroid where the Garrison was and when the green light appeared Canal said," Go, go, go!" And twenty commandos ran out of the drip ship. They were close to the soldiers that were charging at the front doors of the Garrison but they did saw them jumping as they tried to reach the Garrison. This was gonna be tricky. Instead of running they would be jumping around to try and reach their goal. They began to move to the east as they were to infiltrate the east side of the Garrison. From the distance they could see the fireworks that the ODF were making.

 

[Peyton Steele]

Objection: Garrison?
Allies: OP
Enemies: The Destroyers of Druckenwell

Right, so fresh off the streets and into the PMC. That was… what Peyton was doing? Still, she felt a bit out of place, and when the job came up to head to the Vegresso Asteroids, after seeing that there wasn’t a large fleet going, that it seemed like this was as good a place to start her service for the Protectorate than any. Plus, well, money wouldn’t hurt. She had her eyes on a new ship, after all. One of those Corellian numbers. Maybe she was going to be able afford the down payment after this.

Still, she wasn’t quite used to the outfitting. Most of her jobs had her in her own gear. But she was given some sort of white armor and pulled a http://starwarsrp.net/topic/11426-bti-wb-woebringer-heavy-blaster-pistol/]blaster and http://starwarsrp.net/topic/10977-corek-custom-light-repeater-no2/]repeater off the armory. Should be good to get her to survive this engagement. Plus there were those battle droids over there.

She was really going into a full on battle? This was new to her. Typically Peyton preferred to use whatever wiles she could to get what she needed. But money… So, yeah, she was here. Going after the destroyers of Druckenwell. Should be fun? Right? Fun was a word for this. Listening to the speech that came out of the white haired woman, she nodded and checke her guns.

Credits.

She was going to be paid in credits.

Distract, she could do that! She took a deep breath when she felt the dropship jostle and land. When the door opened she put her helmet on and readied her gun, following the battle droids out.

 

[C.C]

OBJECTIVE: Secure the local mining facility and Verpine colony
ALLIES: OP
ENEMIES: CIS
LOCATION: Dropping from orbit, just landing near the facility.



It took him a while to reach his location, but eventually. Just as both sides of the fight began to stir and unravel for the incoming battle he located the mining facility...the settlement. And with this in mind Sparda reached for his hair and slowly combed it with his fingers. He was in someone else's territory now, and at this point there was no turning back. Placing his hands at his waist and walking forward to the closet full of gear. It would probably take him a good thirty minutes to actually get there...well worth the walk...he had no intention of going anywhere guns blazing. Considering he was more of the stealthy type, he figured he'd sneak around the battlefield. After all, it was what he was good at.

Heading into his walk in closet aboard the frigate he was currently hitching in order to get to the battle in the first place the man reached for his gear and began to prepare himself. Grabbing his twin pistols and holstering them on his lower back he then proceeded to grab his Black Wanderer outfit and slipped on his black Trench Coat. After putting it on he reached for his mask and strapped it onto his face, allowing his white hair to fall nearly over the front of it. He then reached for his Vibro Electro Blades and neatly holstered them onto his back. Then grabbing a large backpack He moved to the other wall, grabbing several sets of explosives and C4 as well as a few other little goodies that would come in handy in a pinch Putting them neatly into the bag he slid it onto his shoulders. Now ready and prepared for action, he walked out of his small armory and grabbed his twin durasteel knives. Holstering them on both legs.

Sighing heavily to himself, Sparda made his way to the drop pods and hooked his mic into his ear so he could hear everything on the com. Truth was he was the new kid in the group...supposed this was his chance to show them what he could do. "This is C.2, preparing to drop." he informed, hopping into the drop pod and setting the coordinates...the A.I slowly began to count down, and when it hit zero it launched him out of the ship and hurled him down towards the asteroid.

Sparda slowly got closer...he could see the surface bustling full of inhabitants from here. He was not exactly a fan of public places but he needed to do what he was here for...just needed to secure the mining facility about a click away. With this in mind, as he neared the surface, he pressed the red button above him and the drop pod began to slow down...as the pod smashed into the ground creating a small crater. Sparda grunted from the impact and popped the hatch, sending the door flying as he climbed out of the pod, looking around to see no one was near...perfect. Turning to the direction of the facility, his large canine like ears swiveled atop his head...inhaling the air and trying to catch a scent...but nothing. Good thing he dropped somewhere solitary. Heading off through a full dash he made way for the facility, sticking to the shadows and remaining out of sight...for now.

 

[Ilsa Voll]

Objective: Claim the Garrison
Allies: [member="Nyos Val"] @Dicer @Peyton Steele [member="Aeron Kreelan"] [member="Canal Tal'Verda"] [member="Noah Corek"] [member="C.C"] Voll's Tank Crew
Enemies: CIS Forces

"Giv mir den letzten Kanonenschuss."
"Sind Sie sicher, wir haben Raum?"
"Ja, es ist genug Platz für eine weitere. Vielleicht zwei."
"Hier sind Sie, dann."

In the loading bay of one of the OP ships sat a Skocha. Around it worked four figures, each one of the crew and each doing last minute check offs on the vehicle before deployment. For all intents and purposes, it looked completely normal. Except for a few things.

The crew were all Twi'leks. They were also all female. They also weren't speaking standard basic.

All four were from Eisenwelt. A planet known for pollution, industry, tanks, and a distinct, guttural language called Sprache. The group of women were expert tankers and soldiers; professionals to be commended, or feared. As the loader, a blue-skinned Twi'lek named Alida Reuter, took the proffered shell from the Skocha's gunner, another blue Twi'lek by the name of Rike Strobel, Ilsa took stock of the tank as a whole.

"Wie sind die Kontrollen?" she asked at the head and shoulders poking out of a forward hatch. The driver, a red-skinned Twi'lek by the name of Kreszentia Gottschalk, checked off one or two more things before responding.

"Die Kontrollen sind in Ordnung. Sie brauchten nur ein wenig Öl früher."
"Das ist gut." Voll replied before turning away and calling up to her gunner and loader. "Hey, ihr zwei! Wir Laden der Kampfpanzer in fünf Minuten!"
"Jawohl!" came the reply from the two loading shells.

Within four minutes, the tank was ready to go. Within five, the tank was loaded and the dropship crew was securing the vehicle. Two minutes afterwards, the tank was heading down to the landing zone. Voll scratched a reminder in the notepad she had adhered to the hull next to the Commander's seat to run the crew and the dropship crews through loading drills. On Eisenwelt, they could load and go in under five minutes. Seven minutes total was unnacceptable.

A short time later, during which Voll cursed steadily and quietly under her breath at the wait, the dropship touched down. Before the door had even opened, Voll had blown the locks holding the tank down. Before the door touched the rock and dirt below, the Skocha was rolling out and off the ramp, the small drop giving the heavy tank little problems.

65 tonnes of heavy tank prowled forward, the engines purring like a predator on the hunt. The turret panned back and forth as the Skocha tank moved ahead, the gunner, Stroble, searching for targets. Reuter loaded a shell into the proton cannon and sealed the breach while Voll helped search for enemies and kept an eye on the scanners. Meanwhile, Kreszentia, or Zenti for short, maneuvered the armored death machine over the terrain. Voll put the shields up as high as they could while the tank moved. They were ready for anything and itching to kill.

Spoiler

"Giv mir den letzten Kanonenschuss."
"Sind Sie sicher, wir haben Raum?"
"Ja, es ist genug Platz für eine weitere. Vielleicht zwei."
"Hier sind Sie, dann."

"Give me that last cannon shot."
"Are you sure we have room?"
"Yes, there's enough room for one more. Maybe two."
"Here you are, then."



"Wie sind die Kontrollen?"
"Die Kontrollen sind in Ordnung. Sie brauchten nur ein wenig Öl früher."
"Das ist gut." "Hey, ihr zwei! Wir Laden der Kampfpanzer in fünf Minuten!"
"Jawohl!"

"How are the controls?"
"The controls are in order. They just needed a little oil earlier."
"That's good." "Hey, you two! We're loading the tank in five minutes!"
"Yes, sir!"

I don't speak German and the folks I know do are either offline or, in the case of my brother, at work. If I screwed up something, lemme know so I can fix it

 

[Not Ordo]

Location: 2 clicks north west
Objective: Secure Verpine colony and Mining facility
Enemies [member="Ayden Cater"] [member="Katagiri Ike"] [member="Canal Tal'Verda"] [member="Peyton Steele"]
Allies: [member="Neskar A'toll"] [member="General Mayhem"] [member="Ikki Ike"]

It was no secret that Ruusan was not a sweet girl everyone thay knew her could say as much and likely a lot more, but she was effective. She moved with a squad that was dropped in to check the mine and see what could be secured. She wore her battle armor with sealed helmet and began leading the group. She had her assault rifle with grenade launcher underbarrel attachment linked to her HUD and was confident that any karker that got in her way would be leaking life soon after. The bugs or miners made no difference.

 

[Mao]

OBJECTIVE: Secure the local mining facility and Verpine colony
ALLIES: OP | [member="C.C"]
ENEMIES: CIS | [member="Ruusan"]
LOCATION: Dropping from orbit, just landing near the facility.



They come and go like shadows of the night. Length of heavy durasteel chain, pulled from the depths of the pandora's box in her mind.

Memories. The past. Another lifetime. Another life.


*FLASH*


“Jus' how many of ya are clones then?” Mao questioned without taking her gaze away from the seemingly streamlined chaos on the floor below.

“A few of the originals are still on Exis Station, but if you are searching for a percentage, it is 99.7.”

“Frak me…” Muttered Mao in surprise, feeling a bit overwhelmed for the first time in a long time.

As if one Sith Lord and his cloned son were not enough, she found herself practically surrounded by over fifty thousand clones of Sal strong on Exis Station, not including all the other templates that wandered around doing the odd jobs. Just walking down the crew’s quarters alone was enough to give the Firrerreo pause as she’s seen literally thousands of Norongachi’s clones; each with the same piercing green eyes, the same brooding aura, and the same cocky swagger.

The same great ass.

*FLASH*


The shake of the droppod would pull Mao from her reverie, nicitating membranes sweeping over electric ocean blue eyes. From behind the dark tee of her visor, she bore her stoic gaze upon the streak of the glowing red hull burning at reentry. A series of heavy accented curses would go echoing within the confines of her helmet.

Hardock wasn't too happy.

Then again, Hardock was still adjusting at the intangible loss of not fighting hand in hand with his brothers. This would be the first fight in his lifetime that he'd do so without the rest of the single digits of Liberty Squad. A stab of apprehension and fear that he'd never admit would go stabbing his spine like ice daggers. He felt as if a part of him was missing, much like an amputee missing an arm or a leg. He was at a disadvantage, like a blind man set to walk in the perils of a dark cave.

Yet he wouldn't take no for an answer. He would not leave Mao's side.

Call it a lingering genetic disposition to ornery women with gold skin and blue hair, but the single digit had already given up the only family he knew for the one who managed to harness his wild behavior. Superstition made him question Salem and once given the free choice he made his; granted it was done in the heat of the moment of tearing Blue from gutting the youngest of him like a mudfish, but done all the same.

Much came and went in between then and now, and to be frank both would wonder how exactly they arrived at the Omega Protectorate. But the heat of battle is all they knew and what they could call home. A five percent cut in payroll above the standard was a start.

Not to mention, kept Mao from having her mind wander to emerald eyes so like Hardock's own, blending to reflections into one and a mountain high of regrets. Sins. What ifs.

A sudden blare of a proximity alarm would bath the inside of the droppod a bright crimson hue. They would hit dirtside in less than a minute.

She had her mission objective along with the other fully armed Omega Pyre Private Military Contractors. Full masks would hide their visages for now, the HUD providing a diagram of the local Verpine mining facility. Confederate operated, if intel was on par.

 

[Nyos Val]

Objective: Claim Garrison
Allies: OMEGA PROTECTORATE
enemies: cis
Location: Dropship inbound for the Assembly area.

Strapping his Baas belt on and throwing his duster over the top, Nyos sheathed all of his weapons. And added a few extra grenades and power cells just in case. He fixed his mask to his face and clasped his med-kit to his back, under the duster. Nyos stood amongst dozens of Protectorate soldiers, some veterans, some shiny, but all his brother-in-arms. He racked a bolt into the chamber of his heavy bolter, loaded power cells into his saber, SMG and pistol, ensuring full charges, he replaced them in their homes. The dropship started to rock back and forth from the AA guns below. He put his game face on and activated his HUD, Nyos was ready for war.

 

[C.C]

OBJECTIVE: Secure the local mining facility and Verpine colony
ALLIES: OP: Mao
ENEMIES: CIS: Ruusan
LOCATION: Approaching Mining Facility

C.C was doing well...a lot better than he expected all things considered. It appeared many of the forces of the confederacy where taking thier job rather lightly as the predator tip toed his way through enemy lines without once being spotted...he was getting closer to the facility now...while some would of taken the main road, C.C simply stuck to the back of the territory as far away as the action as possible...staying to the shadows as he made his way to the checkpoint. It did not take long for several soldiers to come looking around near his location...C.C growled silently and lowered himself to the ground in a somewhat feral fashion...crawling off to the side to avoid them. "Who's there!" One of the men called, standing to his full height and running his fingers around a pistol that lied on his waist. Sparda narrowed his eyes underneath his mask and slowly backed away. "there is something on the thermal scanners right in front of us...?" The man whispered confused. Sparda remained silent and very still...he could see several others begin to check what the man was talking about, shining their flashlights near Sparda. Suddenly, as he turned his head over his shoulder. He witnessed three other figures slowly approach from on top the overhand he had walked under. Three of them...in all there where six. Sparda scoffed as their apparently leader stood in front of him as his lackeys circled Sparda. Damn...he had not heard them before...There was a long silence as they all stared at him...a growl erupting in Sparda's chest. All the soldiers pointed their weapons at him as the man suddenly began to speak again."So what's this...some soldier sent by the enemy into enemy lines?" He asked...tilting his head as he walked over to Sparda calmly. "I will admit..im impressed you made it this far without getting caught. So what you got inside of the pack there?" He asked, turning his head in attempt to get a better look at Sparda's backpack. The young boy replied almost instantly.

"What pack?" He asked foolishly, acting as if he did not have one. The man sighed a laugh, taking a glance at Sparda's weapon that was on his waist as well.

"I see you gotta sword kid...bet ya dont know how to use it." He mocked, looking back at his buddies and laughing. "They never do..." he whispered...looking back at Sparda and continuing. "Surrender and Empty the pack out on the road nice and slow..." He demanded...Sparda grimaced at this request. He had far to many valuables to be submitting to the request of a petty soldier.

"I can't do that..." Sparda answered...backing away slowly. The man growled and moved forward.

"Take off the karking pack...or DIE!" He shouted in frustration...Sparda then remained still and silent. Just staring at the man with no emotion crossing that face as the mask glistened in the light...he did not understand why people always had to resort to yelling. He supposed it was simply in their nature...the man came closer. And moved his hand outward to shove him. "You listening to me?" He asked cockily...Sparda's eyes flared up blue underneath his mask.

"I am now..." He replied.

"Good"

"Now you listening to me?" Sparda asked, looking around at his buddies.

"Yeah."

"Good..." Sparda answered, nodding his head and clenching his fist. "You put that hand on me again you won't get it back." He threatened, his facial expression becoming tight with seriousness under that mask. The man just shook his head and laughed. Turning his back on Sparda to face the other has he boasted.

"Can you believe this karking guy!?" He laughed, turning back around and throwing his hand out to shove him again. "Alright you wanna do it the hard way." He said Just as the mans fingers touched the fabric of Sparda's outfit. In one swift move a blade shot out of his sleeve and move to the side at speeds the naked eye could not process. Slicing straight through the wrist between the joints and the palm of the mans hand. The limb simply fell onto the ground and Sparda held up his arm with the blade still in his hand, backing into the shadows underneath the overpass slowly.

The man appeared to be dumbfounded as to what had happened. Gasping and staring at the stump where his hand use to be as his breath caught in his throat. "W-wh-why would you do that?" He asked in shock, falling back onto his bum and holding his arm in pain. "He just cut my karking hand off!! What are you idiots standing around for!? BLAST EM!" He shouted in a mixture of pain and rage. Sparda tilted his head as the men exchanged glances.

"What did he say?" Another man asked confused. Sparda smirked and replied.

"He's in shock...i think he want's you to kill him." He lied, backing away deeper into the shadows were darkness ruled. In sudden realization they all ran into the shadows to attack his silhouette. Wielding all kinds of blades and weapons. Sparda quickly drew his sword, preparing for what was to come.

As they all attacked him his eyes flared, ducking underneath the first blade he lifted his leg up and kicked the man in the jaw, landing on his feet and lifting his own sword to block the impact of another. The second soldier came from the other side, Sparda threw out his arm and delivered an arm to deflect the mans vibro blade, initializing several twist, spins and acrobatic maneuvers he dodged and weaved through most of their attacks and blaster shots. Cutting through their soft bellies and throats as if they where made of butter. The last man, who was far larger than him carried a shotgun...typical. As the large beast backed away and aimed Sparda remained in a stationary position, narrowing his eyes as the man pulled the trigger. Sparda simply moved one inch out of its path at extremely high speeds and threw out his blade, chopping off both of the mans arms and then twirling around and slicing through his belly.

With blood now drenching the shadows of the underpass Sparda wasted little time, walking out from the shadows and putting his sword back and leaving the corpses he approached the man who's hand had been detached. Looking at the ground at the useless hunk of meat Sparda scooted it away with his foot. Then staring down at the bandit.

"What are you?" He weakly asked. The warrior simply tilted his head, and moved the flat end of his knife to his cheek, getting some of the blood onto him before moving it back down and wiping off his knife on the mans jacket. "I...am the solution." Sparda whispered, standing to his feet and snapping the mans neck in a 180 degree angle. Using the force, he tossed the body into the shadows of the overhand so no one would see them just laying around, crouching and moving past the checkpoint, he moved up and took the talkie talkie and reported in to the confederacy. "We are all clear in sector 9, move to 10." he spoke, imitating the man he had just killed perfectly. A skill he picked up while watching tv believe it or not...after hearing someones voice for a certain amount of time he would be able to mimic it perfectly. And that man was talking a hell of a lot. After he reported in, they quickly replied back.

"Copy that echo, moving to district ten, rendezvous with delta squad."

Sparda smiled. "Affirmative, over and out." Sparda replied, turning the walkie talkie off and smashing it. He threw it into the trash and headed out...making his way to the Facility...which was now right in front of him.

 

[Irys Arist'lar]

Objective: Repel Protectorate naval forces

Spoiler

The vergesso Patrol Fleet:
CNS Majesty Gunray Class star Destroyer (Well balanced light Star Destroyer)
CNS Exactor Pillar Class Pillar-class Cruiser (Long range Ion weapon)
CNS Arbiter Krell-class Cruiser (focussed on warhead launchers and attacking gunships/heavy fighters)
CNS Dauntless Krell-Class
CNS Crimson Truth Scintel-class Cruiser (assault class cruiser focussed on turbolasers)
4x Sev'Rance-class Light Carrier
2xTu/a class
1xTu/b class (Turtle-class escort frigate (Anti-starfighter frigates))
4xVentress-class Light Cruiser (Good mix of turbolasers and point defences)

Vergesso
Length 5973
Gunships
Tikkes-class Assault Craft 24
Fighters
CS/TX-00 Droid Starfighters 264
Interceptors
CS/TX-01 Droid Interceptors 150
Elite Fighter
One squadron of 12 on Majesty
Bombers
CS/TX-02 Droid Bombers 108
Long Range
Ion 56
Laser 44
Other 24
Normal Range
Ion 40
Laser 464
Other 96
Warheads 0
Normal 98
Heavy 63
Point Defences
Total 439

Irys Arist'lar setlled into her chair aboard the bridge of the Majesty. Finally she had managed to get her ship out of dry dock and into space, and Navy Command had her out her minding a pile of rocks. Meanwhile, just a few jumps away the Protectorate Fleet was attacking. She sighed. It was progress, but once again she knew she was being excluded by her older peers. Irys had graduated early, been the youngest bothan in a century to command a star destroyer, now the youngest in two to command a task force, and that upset them.

She shined a light on their outdated, ineffective tactics. The problem was she was too blunt and lacked the typical Bothan political savvy. They didn't. So whilst she was off the ground and out of aquisitions work she had nothing to do but...

The claxons flared. For a fraction of a second everyone froze. Then they carried on at twice the speed they had been moving at before. A holo display blossomed into life on Irys' right automatically.

"What do we have?" she called.

"Cronau radiation. Lots of ships!"

Irys looked at her display. The signatures were appearing on the edge of it. They weren't on the far side of the main colonies, but her fleet weren't directly between them either. Irys didn't fully believe in formations. she preferred to have small, maneuvrable, independant units that could quickly react and engage.

"Charge capacitors, raise sheilds! I want a few squadrons of Droid fighters scouting ahead to see what we're up against. Put us between the colony and their approach and just put the details on my display as soon as we know what we're up against.

Signal the Captain of the Exactor. I want them to get a warm welcome from him."

Irys settled back and supressed a smile. As long as this wasn't an unscheduled CIS fleet, it seemed she would finally get her chance.

 

[Dicer]

Objective: Take Garrison
Current Position: Aboard Dropships with OP fleet at edge of system.

There was a gentle rumble and Dicer's vision shifted just a little. That was it then, they were out of hyperspace and it would begind shortly. He rested his head in his hands. Why hadn't he been in one of the batallions that were already back on Eriadu. Three deployments in a row: Druckenwell, Athos and now Vergesso. It was more than the ODF regiments usually got.

He just needed...a little more time to recover from Druckenwell.

The Regimental Sergeant Major was already on his feet, prowling between the rows of strapped in soldiers. "Those Pyre maggots are already wriggling in the dirt down there. Once again, trying to steal our glory with a little distraction. ARE WE GOING TO LET THEM??"

"NO!" came the chorus.

"No." Dicer mumbled under his breath. He saw great chunks of metal scream across the sky, rending it into dirty orange streaks. He saw a world bathed in darkness and ash.

"Curtis," a friendly voice interrupted his reverie. "Are you alright?" It was the Company Chaplain, who had a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The Chaplains had swapped theology for psychology, but they were still responsible for the pastoral care of their soldiers.

"Yes, yes, I'll be fine." he said, trying to feel it. The RSM walked past them, seeing the Chaplain out of his seat he started, but then realised who it was and walked by. Mental health care was a lot more acceptable than it had been in the past. NCOs rarely interferred with the work of the Chaplains.

"Good lad Charles, you'll be fine, we've talked about this a lot. Druckenwell is behind you, you know that. Let's move on." The Chaplain continued. A hint of a smile crept up he side of his face. "We've got a lot of battle droids that need recycling after all. Get your helmet on, this won't take long!"

Dicer took a deep breath. His right hand didn't shake when he held a rifle any more, but he'd lost some of the faith he'd had in his own abilities. He just wasn't the same gormless Private who had set boots on Druckenwell.

 

[Seanna Vel]

OBJECTIVE: Not to let the dogs in the cage (Garrison)
ALLIES: CIS
ENEMIES: OP
LOCATION: Teaching those dogs to heal.

Coming to go about why had they stuck her here out in the this no where place. Thinking over what had happen over the last few weeks over what had to be done. Shaking her own head to the fact of what had happen. Only to feel her own rage breathing down some new recruit fresh meat. Letting him get a good look at her face how disappoint.

"Now sweet pea tr..."

Hearing the the call go out on her commlink after clink all she hear was confusion. "Shut, up will you.....now take it slow.", listening to it all again all she could make was ships and coming towards .

"Oh frak heck to hell, not a again.", shaking her own head. Rolling her eyes to the one asking her a stupid question of what they should do. "Oh, I don't know sit with your thumb up your hole." , took off to her her black beauty already having her armor on. Also on her personal body was many other little toys to help her defend. If anything taught her about the last battle. One don't take on the big boys, two don't get your sweet butt knocked out, third for pete sake not get take by the enemy.

Move it or I'll blow a whole in you myself.", frak me hard where was the leader when they need them, off taking a nice long vacation on Zeloes.

Getting on Commlink wide Who in charge of this mintue, order be nice., getting to the high place as she looked down wondering if the shield would hold that was around the garrison.

 

[Arage Bao]

Objective: Secure the Local Mining Fac-- oh frak that, you know the parameters.
Allies: Some chick with blue hair and wolf boy ([member="Mao"] [member="C.C"])
Enemies: Everyone else, especially you.
Location: Next to miss. Blue Hair.

Pod rattled as we entered orbit, could feel the vibrations running through the durasteel plates. Around me anxiety was running rampant, understandable, takes guts to sit through a ditch like this. Single malfunction, one trajectory mistake and we will all be grounded into dust. Big guy across me seemed to be tense, was pulling his cigar for everything he was worth, next to me sat a girl. Woman, blue-haired, smelled nice; had the looks but probably could cut you up all the same. My kind of woman. I closed my eyes, steadied my breath and located ahead in battle.

Tried to figure out where it would all lead, still didn’t quite get how I came here. Still don’t understand how they found me in the library, had covered all my bases. But this blond chick comes out of nothing with a wolf in her steed, could have fought. Probably could have escaped, but I was tired of running. Would have been a lot of casualties if I had tried fighting, tired of all the blood. Yet, here I am again, fighting for a Nation I knew nothing about, for people I had never met.

Somewhere in the distance, I could practically hear the other pods racing to the surface of the world. One malfunction… took me a bit to get out of that mood, ain’t nothing good come out of a fight when you get into it with suicidal thoughts. Mirrored eyes opened themselves, and somewhere in the deep of my pockets I found a pack of smokes, decided to follow Captain Emerald Eyes’s example and took one out of it.

One look at the lady next to me, I drew another one.

“Smoke?”

Entry would be in a few minutes, ten at best, five at most. Just enough time for a last smoke, ‘fore all hell broke loose.

 

[EmKay]

OBJECTIVE: Secure Mining Facility / Verpine Colony
ALLIES: Confederacy of Independent Systems
ENEMIES: Omega Protectorate
--
POSITION: Observing the facility exteriour.
TARGET: C.C
"Well, now, that's quite the talent..." Atretes commented to himself, the hiss of his helmet's respirator filling his ears in secondary to the false communique that echoed from the mouth of the one below him. He rose from his crouch on a hill a hundred or so metres away, and his macrobinocular display reverted to 1.0x zoom. He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth at how lax security seemed, and how trigger-happy that soldier was. This wasn't security, it was being a gun-ho moron. He frowned, then. Things were desperately in need of change, though now his thoughts were wandering into disarray. He took a deep breath, calmed himself, and his eyes flicked back up. He turned away, and walked patiently along the crest of the hill and tapped into a secure communications channel and sighed out.

"You fools have no security check to verify who is who?" he snapped at the soldiers who were, in his mind, neglecting their duties, "This is Rhoujen, security code Victor-Zulu-Three-Three-Four-Echo, ordering you back into positions unless instructed by someone with the proper codes." he growled out, then closed the channel as the stammered "Y-yes sir"s first began to flow through the line. He closed his eyes and dug his will into the Force, pulling from it and energising his musculature. From that power, he darted forward, cut to the left, and bolted for the facility.

 

[Neskar A'toll]

Location: Garrison
Objective: Beat Down Any Sucker That Comes Near
Enemies: [member="Caden Cadell"] [member="Dicer"] [member="C.C"] [member="Mao"] [member="Katagiri Ike"] [member="Nyos Val"]
Allies: [member="Seanna Vel"] [member="Atretes Rhoujen"] [member="Irys Arist'lar"] [member="Ruusan"]

"We're under attack? Are you kidding me? What next, we crash into the surface of Druckenwell again? Ha! I make myself laugh sometimes." Neskar paced through the hallways of the garrison, a scornful frown painted on his face. Flanked by columns of well armoured soldiers of the armoured kind, he issued orders to all around him in a flurry of motion. Taking command, long-ranged riflemen and snipers were placed in strategic positions atop the garrison, accompanied by already present anti-aircraft cannon, useful for destroy aircraft as the name suggested.

"I'll tell you what, I'm starting to tire of these wannabes getting in our shtick. Bloody no-good do-gooders. Prepare to olbiterate 'em." They'd have to attack the garrison soon, right? Neskar judged that it had to be soon, or else they'd lose the element of surprise. He was ready for anything, anyways. He had his equipment; his CZ-836 Assault Rifle, slugs included, accompanied both his AST-1 Grenade Launcher, and the Gorgon Web Rifle, feared by forcies galaxy-round. And finally, it was topped off by his CZ-BTN Cloaking Device, personal edition. And now, was the waiting time. A long, rectangular window ran across the hallway he was walking down. Out the window was the view of the asteroid fields, and fire erupted from the crevices and cracks of the asteroids, where defensive postions had been erected some time ago, in preparation of an attack. Nothing this quick though. They did catch us guard after all. He stood still and crossed his arms, fully armoured, a stalwart blockade waiting for an enemy to destroy. If he was vain, he'd call himself a blade waiting to be unsheathed. But he wasn't vain. Sure, he was a cruel, vindictive, merciless gun for hire, but he wasn't a narcissist. Not yet anyway. I'm not that good yet.

 

[Mao]

OBJECTIVE: Secure the local mining facility and Verpine colony
ALLIES: OP | [member="C.C"] |[member="Caden Cadell"]
ENEMIES: CIS | @Ruusan | @Atretes Rhoujen
LOCATION: Dropping from orbit, just landing near the facility.


"Don't mind if ah do," Hardock's biting voice would cut Cadell off, plucking the cigarra from the man's fingers before Mao could even make a move to grab it. From behind the black tee of her visor, the Firrerreo would give a snort and a smirk.

"You can feel 'em down there. All of 'em. Darksiders. Like writhing' snakes. Hate snakes." he'd mutter out, lifting his visor just high enough to reveal the lower part half of his face only, showing a scarred lower jaw as he shoved the butt of the cigarra in between his lips. A snap of fingers would send a spark at the tip, and soon a bright cherry glow would reflect against the black visor Hardock wore.

"Frak me, that hits the spot." he'd utter out in a cloud of smoke. He'd take a couple of deep puffs before casting a glance over to Mao, "Blue?" he'd say, plucking the vice from his lips and holding it out to her.

Twin fingers would reach over to take the smoking narcotic between them. Slowly, she'd bring it closer, letting it over over her face for a moment, that bright cherry glow at the tip sending her back.

*FLASH*​

​

"What do ya want Norongachi? Yer being awfully peculiar." ​

​

She told Sal, cigarra dangling from between her lips, no lighter in sight. Her expectant look.​

​

"I want you..." ​

​

He stood in front of her, too close, leaning in. The scent of whiskey and spice of smoke.​

Excitement rushing through her.​

​

"...to go get prepped...we're leaving soon." ​

​

He finished and winked at it causing a small flame to blossom at its end and die just as quickly.​

​

*FLASH*​

​

A hit of her forefinger against the visor would also lift the screen, but this time high over her head, revealing her golden face. Cobalt eyes would give that vice a hard stare before she too would bring it to her lips. Cheeks would draw tight, sink in, as she took a deep drag. The narcotic would rush through her lungs, into her veins, and steel the nerves that would reveal a slight tremble in her fingers. Smoke would rise and burn against her eyes, causing the sweep of protective nicitating membranes to settle over them.

They hit dirtside shortly thereafter, a klick away from the Verpine mining facility.

With a grunt she gave a nod to the small squad as other similar pods would shake the ground upon impact, jarring the area around them. The hiss of a door opening along with the dusk of the night would spur them onward. There came the unbuckling of safety harnesses, the gathering of her rifle and the glint of her cortosis swords at her back of her phrik armor.

From the access hatch, Mao would curl one golden lip at the view that beheld her, tossing the roach of the cigarra to the ground. A boot and a sure grind would snuff it dead as the slam of her visor soon went over to shield her face anew.

[ Let's roll. ] came her clipped order across the HUD earpieces throughout the squad assigned to her.

Another battle. Another war.

The only life she'd ever known.

Maybe fer once, ah'll find Death instead.