Operation: Centurion [OP vs OS]

[Ghorumgash Khazund-Veranum]

Location: Unknown part of Vong-formed ruins
Objective: Duel Canal
Allies: OP, None PC wise
Enemies: [member="Canal Tal'Verda"]


"That wha' Oy call a money shot!"

The Dwarf exclaimed raising his gun over his head triumphantly before trotting over to Canal's limp body, keeping his heavy repeater cocked in his hands in case some other Vong would decide to intercept him.


Once he was by Canal's limp flesh vessel he would turn him over roughly on his chest, placing Force cuffs on his hands behind his back and on his ankles, just to keep the Vong from running. When that job was done he would hoist Canal up and over his stout strong shoulders, calling in transport with cocky,

"Oy, need a lift at [Insert Coordinates Here] Oy got meself a live one!"


It would not be long before a dropship circled over them.

 

[Dicer]

Sergeant Jonas had been right. The latest wave of reptoids had faded away just a few minutes ago, giving them time to redistribute power packs and call in sitreps. The chazrach had just been testing their position. The ODF forces flanking the palace were well dug in, but the strike force had taken longer than expected to extract the target.

Through the thick fog the colossal form of Rakamat appeared. Shouts went up across the lines and comms troopers called for air strikes and armour squadrons.

"Pick your shots riflemen, Yuuzhan Vong soldiers are highest threat," a junior lieutenant called, his voice wavering. Well, they were the highest threat target worth shooting at with a rifle. The lieutenant couldn't have been much older than Curtis, maybe twenty two. He looked as if he was about to bolt.

The beast lumbered onwards, seemingly unperturbed by the streams of heavy repeater fire lashing across its armoured form. Dicer picked his shots carefully, aiming for the chazrach that darted between the legs of the monster. With a pair of bolts he clipped a reptoid. The creature fell to the ground writhing and Curtis moved on to a different target; there simply weren't enough power packs to waste on kill shots.

A flaming ball of magma arced out from the beast and slammed into the building next to them. Nearly a whole platoon of men was wiped out instantly. Curtis could see the flaming remains of the floors they'd been on, exposed and crumbling. The screams of the dying echoed across the defensive lines. A medic rushed past Curtis' position as he slammed another power pack into his rifle. The stench of burning flesh was unnervingly similar to a hog roast.

A whoop went up as the distinctive screech of approaching aircraft drowned out the calls of the dying and the war cries of the Vong. However, the great war beast seemed to find reserves of strength. As the bombs started the fall, leaving fading auras obscuring Curtis' vision with each flash. The beast roared and stumbled. It veered...straight at Curtis' position.

"Kark!" cried a desperate soldier. Curtis turned from his window and started to dash away, but it was too late. As the monstrous beast finally capitulated to the bombardment it fell straight into their building, its weight bringing down the walls with a deafening crash. The walls crumbled around Dicer. He tried to run, but felt a hot pain at the back of his head and stumbled. He held himself there on all fours for a moment, feeling himself vomit into his helmet. Then everything went black.



Curtis awoke in a different world. Dust lingered in the air, the light shining through the broken buildings making irregular patterns in the air. He shook his head, but it only made the pain worse. Tentatively, he reached up to his neck and up to the the pain at the base if his head. His fingers came back slick with blood. His HUD flickered into life, showing his squad mate's positions. At least a few were still alive.

"Sergeant? Corporal?" He asked into the squad channel, his voice weak.

"Right here Private," a voice came back, but not through the comm. Curtis looked up to see the hulking form of Haden next to him. He took the offered hand and the massive man hefted him to his feet with ease. His treacherous legs threatened to buckle, but he forced himself to stay upright. New sounds reverberated down through the skeletal remains of the buildings. The sound of sporadic blaster fire punctuated the stillness, accompanied by red flashes. Curtis couldn't work out which direction they were coming from.

"Orders are to fall back, we're pulling out," Haden whispered. Curtis nodded dumbly. Then another noise rose, the sound of Yuuzhan Vong warriors speaking in their odd language.

Dicer turned to see the forms of three warriors bearing down on them.

"Go Curtis!" Haden shouted, pushing Dicer on and turning on his heel. The massive 2IC bullrushed the Vong as Dicer pulled out his sidearm. Haden towered over Dicer, the brutish soldier had come third in the regimental boxing championships. Curtis has once come to blows with him over a trivial issue after a few drinks. Haden had floored him with a single hook.

The Yuuzhan Vong warrior in the centre stepped forward to meet the charge. It blocked the huge swing with a forearm and halted the charge without giving an inch. The creature ducked under another punch, displaying remarkable speed. Dicer could barely see the creature's arms as they moved, but suddenly Haden was on his knees. The big man had been made to seem a child by the vicious creatures. It reached down and gripped Haden by his armour. The Vong lifted over six foot of muscle and armour with ease and slammed his head into the ceiling. Curtis was aghast as the man he'd known for so long was dropped to the ground unceremoniously. His head lolled in a macabre fashion and Dicer knew he was dead.

It suddenly occurred to Curtis that he had not run. Perhaps it was a twisted form of morbid curiosity, or perhaps the knock to the head had left him senseless. Either way he was left alone, with a trio of Yuuzhan Vong warriors bearing down on him.

He went for his sidearm, firing as he stepped back, praying that something might intervene. Nothing did. The blaster bolts lashed across their crab armour ineffectually and they closed the gap with a few bounds. Dicer found himself face to face with one of the scarred, noseless creatures. The pistol was pulled out of his grip with little resistance. He was slammed against the wall, the pressure of a forearm on his chest keeping him up, with his feet dangling. His helmet was ripped from his head.

He could feel the thing's hot breath on his face. The Vong turned to utter a phrase to a colleague
Dicer stared at the creature as long as he dared. Powerful fingers clenched around his jaw and started to pull his head to the side. Curtis Charles closed his eyes against it all. He pictured his son, imagined holding out his hands to let the boy toddle along. Troy would probably be walking on his own now. He imagined a world without Curtis Charles and tried not to weep.

The pain at the back of his head built as his head was twisted to the side. He felt and heard something snap and crack as his body gave in to the pressures being applied. Then there was nothing. There would never be anything again.



Tens of thousands of soldiers were dying on all fronts. They held the line with blaster fire and bravery. They did their duty and died.

Thousands more died with the loss if every ship brought down in orbit.

Thousands died.

All in the name of the Lady Protector.

All in the name of Cira.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

The blocky forms of dropships broke through the cloud cover, the daggers of escort fighters banking away on knife-edges guiding them in towards the landing zones. Across the front soldiers fought, died, and bought time for the rest of the soldiers to fall back. Burning, indistinct shapes spoke of escorts and transports brought down to earth in pyre's, and Sarge looked up to see a massive bank of matte-black M47s coming in low.

Rockets and blasterfire patterned across the ground and they eased their way toward a hovered landing on engines that sounded like the death-wail of a star. Halberd mag-clamped to his back, the man reached down to scoop up the unconscious form of the Lady Protector, allowing her to drape over his arms as he watched the descent of their saviors. His armor groaned and protested every movement, joints emitting smoke as circuits shorted out.

A dropship landed in front of him and [member="Rave Merrill"], and from its depth strode a Brother in bone white plate, a medics symbol painted onto a pauldron. His arms ended in syringes and needles, filled to the brim with bacta, painkillers and all manner of a medics narcotics. Sarge paid him no mind as he came over to take Cira from him. Instead, he marched up the ramp, waiting for Rave to join him and the rest of his squad as the dropship closed itself off and banked for the sky.

In orbit, reinforcements for the Vong would have no doubt arrived, but the Protectorate would have made piecemeal of whatever had been here at the start; provided they hadn't retreated to the systems edge beforehand. But that was the last thing on his mind.

I took a walk around the world to ease my troubled mind.

His brow furrowed, staring down at her dreadlocked hair, trying to will it back to those lustrous auburn tresses he'd loved so much.

But I left my body lying somewhere in the sands of time.​

​

Reaching up to remove his helmet, his brow darkened further as anger rose like bile in his throat, eyes hardening to obsidian while his body shook in his armor.

And I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon.​

​

He inhaled slowly, closed his eyes, and surrendered her body to the Apothecary, even as they broke orbit and made for the Protectorate fleet.

I feel there's nothing I can do.

Lowering himself into a dropseat, he magclamped his boots to the decking and lowered his head into his hands. The worst monsters weren't the ones who were born, he decided. They were the ones that were made.

And he'd made himself into one with every righteous swing of his halberd.

[member="Cira"]

 

[Uriel]

A new wave of reinforcements hit the dirt, along with the landing ships. The landing site became a veritable wall of ultramarine as the Inquisition moved first too secure it, forming a circle chain, an absolute bastion against the encroaching tide of the One Sith and their Yuuzhan Vong slaves.

When one called Uriel out for cowardice, he noted the disparity of someone disparaging someone... and hiding behind cover in doing so. Because Uriel did not need cover. He was human cover. The irony was sweet and almost delicious.

Bolter fire continued to erupt, the high-explosive rounds tearing holes in the advance of everything that moved. As the Lord Inquisitor [member="Sarge Potteiger"] moved with [member="Cira"], taking the dropship with [member="Rave Merrill"], Uriel knew his mission was complete. Their transport took off, up and away, this planet no longer required for the needs of the Omega Protectorate. Hastings was already leaving too, leaving the defence in the hands of the squad sergeants.

Meaning Uriel now had command.

"Tighten the wall!" screamed the Sergeant, lifting his bolter and taking aim. Scoped for precision, his weapon would become a dangerous weapon. One shot, then another. This was the best he would get today.

"Systematic withdrawl! One squad at a time! Stand firm, my brothers! Know no fear! We are the Protectorate's chosen!"

The codex called for one squad at a time to retreat, the rest covering the escape of each squad until air support could be called in to perform strafing runs. Under proper air cover, the last squads could peel off and board their transports, then escape through atmosphere. Uriel would lead this defence. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could do. For his brothers, he would serve.

 

[Kaiden Rohn]

[member="Khallesh "]rained blows on him like he rained credits on girls in dingy places that were trying to pay their way through medical school. Knees and elbows came down on him, some hitting his face while others hit his torso. The face hurt the most, the Havoc Squad armor protected him where it could. He reminded himself to wear his helmet more often than not, but elected, again, to make a bad decision in a bad situation. He was in a position to do some grappling. He took note of her position. Legs on either side of his body. Now, Kaiden needed to play smart. He shot his legs upwards, wrapping them around the Vong's lower back. He felt dizzy, but at this point, it was routine to fight like this. It was instinctual, to grapple and to fight. Kids did it, naturally. He was just better trained in it than most.


"Don't fight someone on the ground when you fight like a snake."


Kaiden used his powerful abdominal muscles to move his upper body up, relying on them to do what he was about to do. He planted both feet, removing them from her back, and grasped the Vong's left wrist. She either would have some idea of what he was about to do, or no idea, depending on her level of training and knowledge of hand to hand techniques of the Republic and special forces. With one swipe, he would attempt to make her fall forward with the wrist. He took his other arm, and went to wrap it around the back of her head, trying to pull her down towards his shoulder and behind him. If he was successful, he would start to apply a choke, or transition into another move. This all depended on what she would do in response, so he was moving fairly quickly and not giving her much time to move.


"You thought I was gonna punch you, didn't you?"

 

[Khallesh]

Ah, so he knew how to fight on the ground too. Excellent, she mused as her body fought without much concious intervention from her mind. The other battles on this day had been droll affairs, such as their remit had been. This was a much more intensive test of her abilities. Fortunately her groundwork was much better than her boxing. There was one rule of groundwork that sat above all others: always be on top. If you had to roll it was vital that you kept your legs between yourself and your opponent, or at the least wrapped around them. End up underneath an opponent, with their legs straddling your body and it was game over.

She started to fall forwards without anything to hold her weight. With her right hand she took the opportunity to take one quick and close uppercut for the man's jaw, before bringing her forearm up against the hand around her head. As she started to roll to her right, she raised her left knee. Hard. Hard enough to give a swift blow to the crotch that would hopefully hurt even through armour.

As she rolled she kept that knee planted firmly on his midrift. She tried to prise his left arm from her neck and to keep it pinned as they rolled, to prevent him from getting too much control over his position. She would seek for purchase with her right foot on the ground and try to use her left to either roll him back under, or at least prevent him from getting into a match-ending position of authority. Keeping it between them , or at least outside of him was key.

As they grappled she was briefly aware of the Omega shuttles taking off in the distance. The Protectorate was leaving. If she focussed on keeping him down, even if he did no end of damage to her body and won the fight, he would not be able to leave.

[member="Kaiden Rohn"]

 

[Djorn Bline]

Location: Vong Ruins
Allies: N/A
Enemies: N/A
Objective: N/A

All that could really be said was this: KO!

[member="Ghorumgash Khazund-Veranum"]

 

[Kaiden Rohn]

Her rabbit punch and her knee that couldn't gain much momentum did little to deter the shockboxing champion. She couldn't generate much if any momentum or force at this angle, and it was merely delaying the inevitable. [member="Khallesh "]slipped his arm out from her neck, and placed her leg on his midrift. Problem was, that wasn't where the power from the ground came. The power really came from the hips. Kaiden didn't have a lot of options, so he went with the best one. He needed to reverse the current state of affairs in which the ugly, smelly Vong creaturess was atop of him. Kaiden's left foot came around her right foot, and he braced his arm up and between her left arm. Then, without using any real strength, he pushed upwards with his hips, and the forces of gravity and her current position would take care of the rest.


If this were successful, Kaiden was going to bring her in for a nasty grapple, maybe a choke or an armbar. Either way, she was proving that she was more concerned about hitting him, than winning on the ground. Rabbit punches and knees were not going to hurt him much.