Stamping out the Coals [Assault on Mytus VII: Mandalorians vs The New Order]

[Azrael]

Mytus VII​

Homeworld of the New Order​

​

It had begun with the flickering of a flame. The moment when the spark of the Dark Side had ignited a passion to draw together its forces and stake claim to territory in the wake of the fallen Sith Empire. The once great cloud of influence that had challenged the Mandalorian people on every front had begun anew. While the One Sith were at war with the Republic, these radical Sith were focused on quietly perusing their goal of rebuilding a fallen kingdom, and they had started on this barren rock known as Mytus VII. A known and often untested area at the edge of the Galaxy, known for it's penal facility; The Star's End. It was here on this arid planet that the Sith had setup their stronghold and moved from there, set out to conquer and to plunder as they saw fit. It wasn't until they decided to test their metal against that of besk'ar that they made their grave and sore error.

Their attempt to overthrow a Mandalorian world had failed - causing blood to drop into the proverbial water. Like Sharks, the Mandalorians had gotten the scent, and fixed their hungry eyes on the faction that had boasted itself too large too quickly. Now the Mandalorians were on the attack, and they were not stopping until the broken husks of the failing faction were ground into dust and swept away by the solar winds of the Galaxy, never to be heard from again. The Invasion of Telos had found them crippled and broken, and now they were going in to finish what they had started. A Mandalorian never forgets - and their memory was fixated on that inhospitable rock at the far end of the Galaxy, to again rid the sector of Sith Influence.

What wasn't expected was the Civil War that was happening planet-side. The New Order remnant was rebelling against the leader that had placed treason on the lot of them back on Telos. They were coming to wrestle his power away, and dominate. They clung to the withering corpse of their faction, and they were not about to let it go without a struggle of epic proportions. Even as the fleet of Mandalorians broke through the atmosphere and began to unload their vode, the Sith, the Graug, and their loyal troops would not relent. This would indeed be a bloody battle. It had begun with the flickering of a flame, and it would only end with the stamping out of coals under besk'ar booted feet.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Seated and waiting as the turbulence died down, and their speed decreased, Azrael gripped the harness to the ejection seat tightly as he watched the view screen of the landing troops. The Mando'ade were coming in hard in various methods of deployment. War droids were launched, drop pods ripped across the sky, and foot soldiers landed in platoons to raze the establishments that the Sith had created to the ground. The Field Marshal gave the signal with a nod of his head as the floor beneath the two dozen Mandalorians dropped out from under them. Each warrior unclipped from the harness and dropped from the seat, several dozen meters above the ground. Jetpacks ignited as one by one, they fell into formation and tore through the sky, blasters blazing and peppering the landscape, and the troops below with their reign of fire.

Azrael leapt out with the last group and hit the jetpack. His body tensed as the rocket launched him through the air, while he brandished a heavy repeater. Bolts of orange tore through the sky, lancing across the rocky geography and nailing down Sith troops left and right. His flight pattern, speed, and target were all mapped out within the confines of his helmet. He felt the thrill of the fight well within him, as he blazed a trail. The Sith stronghold was busy with it's own fight, but reserves of the Graug monsters were coming out from the slave pits near the Penal colony. That was his heading, to thwart the resistance and leave the Mando'ade heading to the temple a greater advantage.

​

​

[member="Ember Rekali"] [member="Gilamar Skirata"] [member="Satara Hawk"] [member="Basaba Willamina"] [member="Countess Calum Teramo"] [member="Preliat Mantis"] [member="Kytarra Hawk"] [member="Ermac Laith"] [member="Garrus Garon"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Ordo"] [member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Briika Tor"] [member="Anija Ordo"] [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] [member="Cabur Aranar"] [member="Kad Tor"] [member="Rianna Ordo"] [member="Kila Cadau"] [member="Xyhn-Drez"] [member="Jedediah Bagely"] [member="Neskar A'toll"] [member="D-Man"] [member="Allison Willamina"] [member="Skosk Fett"] [member="Dred Malachore"]​

 

[Anastasia Rade]

Gaurg Prison
Prisoner

The sun brightly shone outside and it was a beautiful day however Anastasia was unaware of this. She had no clue that a war was taking place outside the prison. It had been fifteen years and counting since she had seen the sun and felt it's warmth on her skin. She had been three at the time so she barely could remember what it felt like. She was grasping at straws really, anything to get her through the day. It was the only thing that she had down here in her dark prison cell. She sometimes at night she would dream about what the galaxy looked like and envisioned herself a free woman. These dreams didn't last long and were replaced by the harsh cruel reality of her situation.

She was just a play things to the Gaurg priests to use and abuse as they felt fit. When they were done with her they would dispose of her and the galaxy wouldn't bat an eye. She often prayed for death as that would be an escape from this hell and give her peace. She would finally be free from the daily sessions with her captors and able to rest in peace.

Anastasia's prison cell was an 8 by 8 square room consisting of a hard cot with a blanket. There were no widows or view of the outside to speak of. Her only other view was the path to the room she had "sessions" in. Just as she had no view, the young girl had no visitors either except when they came to give her rations. She was allowed one book to read and ever so often it would be replaced with a new one. She also had been given a book of sorts which she used as a diary which she often used. It was in no way private as her captors would often read it. Still she felt the need to write things down even at that.

Sitting in the corner of her "home" Anastasia gently turned the page of the old torn book that she was given. Her scratched, bruised legs she left straight out in front of her. After all these years the pain didn't bother her anymore nor did cry. She in truth didn't show any emotion anymore. It was better that way she found but even still her body hurt. She couldn't keep herself from feeling the pain and the side affects. These things often kept her up at night as well in the form of night terrors.

Today thus far had been quite and she had yet to receive her lunch but that wasn't odd. There were times that they forgot to feed her or didn't feed her on purpose as an experiment but even at that normally she could hear screams down the hall or something around that nature but today nothing. She counted it as a small blessing and continued to read.

[member="Azrael"]

 

[Dred Malachore]

Drop pod
Planet's surface

Dred landed in a drop pod on the planet's surface. Today, he would kill people. People who attempted to destroy the Mandalorians. Stupid fools. The Mandalorians are an idea, and you can't kill ideas. But we can certainly kill you. Long memory, short fuse. That's the mando mindset. And you had to be stupid to attempt to cut off the head of a hydra. For now more were popping up. Dred stepped out of the drop pod, looking for targets as he placed his right hand on his brotherguard pistol

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

Geneviève hated Sith. Everyone hated Sith. Seriously, she had designed a gun specifically with Sith targets in mind. And she just so happened to be carrying.

Mytus VII hardly needed any help diving into chaos, as the entire planet seemed on the brink of anarchy. The rusty Alliance freighters had been able to land without a hitch as the Mandalorian invaders had given clearance after a short comm exchange. Lasedri had directed the craft to touch down outside the main assembly of attackers to get a feel for the turbulent state of the planet. The word around the local systems was that insurrection was in the air, and that had pricked the ears of those few Rebel Alliance types. The Benefactor and her Council had estimated that this was a good time to acquire a taste for Sith blood. Their only hesitation was over who was the 'good' side.

While the planetary uprising naturally screamed 'rebels', their ideals were not confirmed to align with Alliance principles, and this required further investigation before the upstart Rebellion faction threw precious resources at this questionable group. Thus, their current standing was to keep in good favor with the United Clans before foolishly jumping into the fray.

"Demon's Blade; Katarn; Legion," she called through her personal comm as she stood on the boarding ramp of her transport, long black trenchcoat enshrouding her militantly armed body. "Matchbox in. Take to your objectives. We only kill Sithies until you've got a view of the Loyalists."

[member="Dante Zankar"] [member="Mrrew"] [member="Noah Corek"] [member="Kage"]

 

[Kila Cadau]

Drop Pod - Planet Surface

It was good to be free.

It was good to be free, and it was good to be fighting with her vode again. Kila managed not to laugh aloud, but it was a bit of a close thing as she stepped out of her drop pod into the chaos of war. Well, not directly into it - the Sith Temple was still a little ways off, and that was the real place the chaos was happening. But some of the stragglers were here - mostly Sith troops, but some of them she wasn't supposed to attack - and some of them (again the Sith) looked to be attacking the Mandalorians. Not the best idea they'd ever had, but one of their last.

Kila's blaster was drawn and had ended five lives in as many seconds before she raced forward, intent on reaching the temple as soon as possible. This time, she couldn't prevent a slight chuckle from escaping her lips as the adrenaline rushed through her veins. The joy - although that wasn't the right word, perhaps exhilaration would be closer, even if that still wasn't quite it - of combat was hers, and she was at the forefront of the Mandalorian force heading for the Temple, carving a bloody path with blaster and blade that left her foes dead and her allies mostly untouched.

[member="Dred Malachore"]

 

[Lavania]

Drop Pod - Planet Surface

This was an interesting scenario and as Lavania stood in the drop pod with her staff in her hand she was listening more to the world below. There was no indication where she was going yet just find a way to the planets surface and roam around while her senses reached out to try an sense other force users. The other mandalorians around her were primed and ready, she could even sense and see some that were far off as she let out a breath and the pod touched down the armored soldiers piling out while she twirled the staff and tapped it into the ground, the ripples in the force coming to her senses before she started moving bringing energy and ichor to her hands.

 

[Levy Willamina]

Wardroid going to surface

"Alright this is it people's lets go and give them hell." Levy stood tall in the clan skin as she prepared letting her fear in and counting it out for five seconds while she prepared. Dropping from orbit on a metal beast towards a prison to fight massive beasts of sithspawn and hope to survive.... Yeah she was looking at it like a challenge and as the runt of the clan she needed to show she could preform as she secured the jackels in her holsters. She enjoyed the rippers but there was something to be said about explosive rounds that would just make a hole in a graug's chest. Gave a good feeling and climbing atop the droid she secured her helmet as the door flashed and opened. The clamps releasing and they were going towards the planet. "WOOOOOOOO"

 

[Arjant Clevenger]

Location: Cell
Objective: Wait
Enemies: N/A
Allies: N/A

The animal grew tired of waiting in his little cage. For days, weeks, months he spent carving the walls of the days he spent in his forsaken habitat. He was promised freedom from his friend who visited him but it never happened. At least his meals were better and he no longer had the pills to control his anger. Thing is, that with or without pills he still had that anger which would never go away. Never

Bane was doing his daily things that he would normally do. As of the moment he was doing push ups, sit ups, pull ups, whatever it is so he could keep his strength and become stronger. Unfortunately, his strength couldn't break down the walls that closed him in.

But how did he survived from all he has endured? His anger and his determination to reunite with his siblings. Though, it was a small chance to see them and be with them he still took shots that people wouldn't do because it wasn't worth it. Even there was darkness around him he still clung on to whatever that would keep him from falling to a void that would lead him to suicide.

Though, something wasn't right. Most of the guards weren't bringing prisoners to labs and there were no screams. "Maybe they're beloved emperor broke a damn nail. Huh, I wish I was the one who could do the honor of doing that," Bane said with humor in his voice. Sooner or later he would be free of his chains which would unleash the animal inside him. And he was desperately waiting for that moment.

 

[Bubák]

Izinri was excited, adrenaline pumped through her veins as she gripped her rifle tightly, her index finger lovingly stroking the trigger. The young Sith loved the rush of battle, the thrill it offered. It was a sensation unlike any other, it was in her Sith tal to enjoy it. Just a few more seconds until her drop pod hit the planet’s surface… The young woman almost wanted to check her armor again, just like she had done so many times before boarding the drop pod, but then stopped herself. The last time she went through the systems and plating, everything was in top shape, much to her pleasure. Keeping armor in excellent condition often saved lives and the young Sith definitely cared to spend a few hours by repairing the damaged parts rather than end up in a coffin. Or an incinerator, she did not know nor cared what the New Order used to dispose of the dead. Whatever the case, at least the ones tasked with disposing of bodies prospered. The same couldn’t be said about the New Order…

The drop pod finally collided with the ground, prompting Izinri to get up from the secured seat and rush out. Blaster bolts immediately found their way in her direction as two soldiers foolish enough to fight in a lost battle picked their target. Izinri hit the ground with her stomach, glaring through the sights on her rifle and targeting the first soldier as more bolts whizzed past her head. Pressing the trigger, the teenage Sith released a short burst into the upper torso of one soldier, rolled over her back to the left while still aiming and shot again when the second enemy appeared in her sight. She was not bothered by killing the two Sith servants in the slightest, it was fun and she felt more exhilarated than anything. She may be a Sith herself, but aliit ori'shya tal'din. And when her family gets attacked, she defends them.

One of the worst things one can do is to attack the Mando’ade. Mando'ad draar digu. Izinri grinned under the helmet and quickly got up; knowing the drop zone would be the first target of the enemy artillery if they had any.

 

[Darth Ferus]

Location- Sith Temple

It was hell. Through and through, there could be nothing closer to it. In the invasion of Telos the emperor watched as his people were killed by the Mandalorians. Watched as they were torn asunder by gun fire. He did the one thing any good ruler should do, protect his people and leave, just as he was offered.

The blue eyed emperor was not Sith. Despite being created by them, he chose a different path. He saw the Graug slave pins. What was going on in them. There, he ordered the release of the prisoners. He left Star Fall, thinking that the Graug would have no choice but to listen.

But he had thought wrong. The Graug were a violent people. Mercy was punishable by death. What's more, Daichi had declared all Sith traitors to the Emperor unless they renounced the Dark Side mantle. Once more he thought his rule supreme. The Graug, Sith, those loyal. They chose to overthrow him. Overthrow the new way of thinking, kill the emperor and take his place.

Civil war erupted as soon as he had left. Those loyal to the Sith, and those that wanted freedom. Families were torn apart, brother killing brother. There was no peace anywhere. In the streets people fought a loosing battle against the Graug and Sith. Those that resisted were slaughtered, family, friends, all were killed, and yet they still resisted. They still fought. They fought with their Emperor, the first to try and save them.

-------------------------

Daichi stood just outside the Sith Temple, if it could be called that. It was a fortress, through and through. He stood with his chosen, those who remained loyal to him, planning. All around the sound of gunfire and explosions continued, tearing through the silence.

"What do we know?" His voice broke through, easily heard by those around him. His gaze never left the table in front of him. Spread across was the schematics of the temple, hand written. It was ancient, used so long ago and hen the temple was first created.

A soft voice spoke up first. A smaller woman, human, stood arose from him, pointing towards part of the large entrance.

"Here is completely barricaded. The Sith have created a funnel, killing anyone who try to get in. Saddly that's the only entrance we know."

Daichi frowned then. He stood dressed in rather simple clothing. One could say he looked very unfit to be named emperor, but here he stood, leading a failing rebellion for his own people. Even as he fought with them, he couldn't win on his own. Not against the Graug and the Sith. Not without a real army.

"Any other news?"

A burly Cathar burst into the room, breathing heavy. "It's the Mandalorians. They've come."

Daichi turned his gaze. For the first time sense coming back to this planet he smiled. Perhaps his people had a chance after all.

"Hail them."

[member="Azrael"] [member="Izinri"] [member="Anastasia Rade"] [member="Dred Malachore"] [member="Geneviève Lasedri"] [member="Lavania"] [member="Levy Willamina"] [member="Bane Rade"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Daichi"]

Ember fell and fell hard. He'd dropped from a couple miles up, just his armor and a heavy-duty repulsorpack. The pack was too weak, and Ember too heavy, for true flight, and when he landed it took his full focus to keep from breaking a leg. Flagstones cracked under his beskar boots, and he straightened with a pained grunt. He sensed a Master nearby, a mind intent on the fight ahead but not fully Dark Side. That meant Keetael tracking had led him right, a wavering vision half-glimpsed as he leaped from the dropship. He'd seen a blue-eyed face, a hand-sketched map. He cast a glance at the nearby Sith temple, wreathed himself in White Current illusion, and came into view of Daichi's forward command post. The guards saw nothing, didn't so much as hear the door open. This level of immersion wasn't something Ember could maintain, not if he wanted to be fully set for the fight ahead, but it eliminated complications.

He appeared, to sight and to the Force, across the map from Daichi.

"How can I help?"

 

[Nolan Detta]

From the sky above Mytus VII, a sound could be heard, a joyous, proud sound. The sound of the theme song to Nolan Detta's announcement into the battle. The battle below began to kick into gear as the Mandalorian forces dropped in and immediately began to show their dominance on the battlefield. With Nolan riding the top of a drop pod like he was in a space rodeo, the Mandalorian Wrecking Ball gauged the distance to the ground verses his timing of activating his jetpack to lift him off as the troopers inside would be deployed like raindrops full of Mandalorian Death.

I CAME IN LIKE A WRECKING BALL!!!! Nolan sang as he propelled himself from the pod in the fray. He landed in a heroic stance of valor and showmanship, wielding his trusty Kath Hound Scatter Blaster singing the song of her people into the faces and guts of New Order Troopers left and right. He turned to welcome a charging Sith warrior with a Beskar'gam boot to the face, snapping his head back and flopping him on the dirt like a worn, wet rag. Nolan moved on into the battle in search of something else to kill.


Azrael Izinri Anastasia Rade Dred Malachore Geneviève Lasedri Lavania Levy Willamina Bane Rade [member="Ember Rekali"] [member="Daichi"] [member="Kable Detta"]

 

[Neskar A'toll]

KERBLAM! CRUNCH!

The rocks parted under the immense pressure generating by the drop-pod smashing into the rock surface, tearing the ground asunder, as Neskar's pod, the first of many, fell upon the area they were to secure. Mytus VII. There was little there. And there would be even less by the time the mando'ade would crush the New Order into naught but ash.

"Tell me," Neskar spoke out over the closed comms that all of his squad were attached to, "Why don't they just give up? Run off? Surely they must dislike dying by now?" ​

​

"Maybe they have determination?​

​

"Sith? Determination? My arse. They have about as much grit and determination in 'em as a Corellian street urchin. And believe me, they don't have much."​

The drop-pod clicked and clacked, as it shuffled into a secure position, the hinges on the door hissed a pulsating steam, asking to be released. "Well. We're here now. You should all have your weapons ready." A quick glance behind. They had. So had he. The joys of a sneak attack. "We're to go out there and... well. Secure things. Take over bunkers. Kill Sith. The usual kark. Maybe we may face more opposition than a few fleeing women and children. And even though they're aruetii, everyone else tends to take a bad light on you when you kill women and children." Neskar turned back to the hatch, and planted an armoured gauntlet on the switch. He gripped the stock of his rifle with his left, and his beskad was loose in its scabbard, allowing it to be drawn easily to.. draw blood. I never was a poet. "Even if they get in your way." he muttered. A red-light bathed the drop-pod. They were ten, their enemies more than ten. "We'll be outnumbered twenty to one."

"That's barely a fight!"​

​

"That's the spirit. But don't take on twenty dar'jetii at once, it tends not to go all that well. Oya?"​

OYA! Came the defending cry of his men, even with ten, the voices numbed his ears and warmed his heart. Wherever it is. At their cry, the red light which bathed the pod flicked over to a luminous green, signalling their advance. Neskar pushed the switch up with fury, the hatch heaved open, revealing their battleground, bathed in a sickly orange glow, the streams of bolter fire and blaster fire ripping their way across the field in a horrid blend of death, death for all who pursued it. Neskar glanced back again. He smirked under his helmet, placed his rifle into a ready position and nodded to his men. It was time.

*​

The terrain contained many foot-hills, to which the Sith had, at short notice, placed defensive fortifications; heavy-blaster nests, trenches leading up the hills, ancient bunkers carved into the side of the rock, presenting a colossal challenge for the men of Mand'alor to engage. But they were many and more, increasing waves of drop-pods crashed behind them, releasing more and more squads to wreck havoc amongst the Sith. There was no other alternative. They had to punch through that defensive line to get to the Stronghold, to crush the New Order for once and for all. Casualties were expected. For them or for us? Or will it be for both?

Neskar and his squad laid just below the defensive line - a blind spot created due to the haste of which the defence was created; much of the foot-hills gave them adequate cover, large rocks lay jagged in the pebbled ground, constantly peppered by heavy blaster fire - having used their jet-packs to evade blaster fire and get to safe cover. He scanned the bodies around him. No-one dead. Just yet. Silent, he signalled for his men to activate their jet-packs and get over the rocks to the start of the line proper. The rockets lifted the men of their feet with ease. At once, the Mandalorians released salvoes of blaster fire upon the line, swiftly rising up, then down into the start of the trenches. It begins. The sky was hazy, orange cloud obscuring the view of the battle above. The rocks were of a dark colour also, almost a muddy red. Almost the colour of blood, he noted, and quite apt, he noted, as he flicked out the beskad and lunged into a stormtrooper, puncturing the chestplate with the blade, skewering the trooper on the foot-long blade.

<<Keep mobile! Do not get pinned down! Get up to the nests and eliminate them!>>​

​

The trenches could be swept easily, they were poorly constructed, and already the troopers were pulling back to more defend-able positions. The brief break in fire from the nests, to allow the troopers to get back up, allowed many more jet-pack equipped Mandalorians to fall into the trenches, and gain high ground on the rocks nearby, fighting a moving battle, constantly adjusting position to avoid being pinned down. This would be one hell of a battle. Neskar would make sure of that.

<<This is A'toll, reporting in. We're assaulting the defensive line east of the Stronghold, repeat again, east of the Stronghold. Estimated two clicks. Join in if you want to. Over an' out. >>​

​

​

Azrael Izinri Anastasia Rade Dred Malachore Geneviève Lasedri Lavania Levy Willamina Bane Rade Ember Rekali Daichi Kable Detta

 

[Azrael]

Twin rockets roared from the JT-12 strapped to the back of the Field Marshal, propelling him several feet over the rocky terrain. The uneven stony land below him whipping by as Azrael careened over the landscape, adjusting his frame back and forth to adjust into the computed trajectory. Battle raged among in various clusters littering the planet from the Sith Temple to that of the Star's End, and over towards the Graug slave pits. He'd never been an actual slave, although he had been technically sold to a work force, and left without a home. He owed no debt, but he had nowhere else to turn, he'd been an employee with the lowest form of healthcare, and negligible rights. It was close, but he wasn't locked away and kept from the world. Even though his situation was more tolerable, he felt a pit of sickness in his stomach when he thought about the slave pits that the Graug guarded. His blood boiled at the idea of the Sith experimenting on innocent children for their sadistic musings. Few things could cause the ire of the half-breed to come out like the abuse of children.

A quartet of troopers were taking aim at him as he shifted through the air, the HUD calculating quickly the trajectory, causing Azrael to barrel roll to the right and spin off course, arcing higher into the and then flipping back to let his jetpack give him a hovering position as his repeater was unleashed. Bolts ripped through the trooper armor, while his armor took a few pot shots, shrugging them off as he emptied the charge on the repeater into the four, decimating them to smoldering husks of armor before he adjusted his position and rocketed back towards the prison pits. Magnification of the scene caught sight of Graug leaving the trenches that were dug for the sole purposes of prison cells and running towards the Sith Temple to assist in the coup. Mid-flight, Azrael released his spare energy cartridge and slammed it into the repeater, charging to full as he circled around the fortified wall, and came around the bend. Internal verbal commands lit up his display and targeted the weak points of the stone wall that surrounded the perimeter, leaving only one entrance and exit for pits. He sought to broaden that architecture a bit. His form shifted into an arrow formation as his head lowered and concussion rocket on his jetpack lit up and shot forward. A trail of fire and smoke ripped behind it, the warhead slammed into the stone wall, ripping it apart.

Rocks exploded and rubble rained down in a fantastic explosion that punched a huge hole in that stone gate, showering the Graug in the trenches with a heavy stone spray as the dust cloud loomed from the hit. Fire collected on the still standing parts of the wall, charring the outside. Thermal vision kicked in, penetrating the dust cloud and noting the position of the guards that still patrolled the prison were thrown back, and trying to get to their feet. Azrael stowed his weapon as he altered his path and moved with open arms. Bionic digits tore through the opening and grasped a Graug by the throat as he tore right back up into the sky, crushing his windpipe in mid flight. The jetpack extinguished it's burn and his form fell, while the Mandalorian shifted his weight and pressed both Besk'ar boots onto the chest cavity of the monster in his clutches. The thick skinned guard slammed back first into the ground with the full weight of Azrael crushing atop him, driving him into a cratered mess in the trench. A Mark II Ripper was released from his thigh as a gleaming black besked came into his bionic grip.

The noise that ripped from the trenches was unearthly and violent. Green blood spilled as both slugs and blade met the Graug with the fury of the Manda, tearing them apart and destroying them slice and shot alike. Normally there numbers would be ten times the amount, but they had left the trenches to assist in the overthrow of the Sith Temple. Only a skeleton crew remained, and they were unmatched against Azrael. He delivered swift and brutal strokes with the besked, cleaving across flesh and muscle while he pot shotted the rest at near point blank range. Huge gaping holes burned into the Graug as they fell one by one at the Field Marshal's hand. They were here to Purge the Galaxy from the tyranny of the Sith, and he wasn't about to let them breathe a moment longer. This was war, this was genocide. They would all die.



[member="Ember Rekali"] | [member="Gilamar Skirata"] | [member="Satara Hawk"] | [member="Basaba Willamina"] | [member="Countess Calum Teramo"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Kytarra Hawk"] | [member="Ermac Laith"] | [member="Garrus Garon"] | [member="Strider Garon"] | [member="Ordo"] |[member="Mia Monroe"] | [member="Briika Tor"] | [member="Anija Ordo"] | [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] | [member="Cabur Aranar"] | [member="Kad Tor"] |[member="Rianna Ordo"] | [member="Kila Cadau"] | [member="Xyhn-Drez"] | [member="Jedediah Bagely"] | [member="Neskar A'toll"] | [member="D-Man"] |[member="Allison Willamina"] | [member="Skosk Fett"] | [member="Dred Malachore"] | [member="Nolan Detta"] | [member="Daichi"] | [member="Izinri"] | [member="Bane Rade"] | [member="Anastasia Rade"] |[member="Lavania"] | [member="Levy Willamina"]

 

[Anastasia Rade]

Anastasia didn't bat an eye as the screams began. It wasn't that she was heartless it was just the simple fact that she had heard them on a daily basis. She was way past getting over emotional or letting the screams affect her. One could say that the teenage was immune to the horrors of not only this place but in general.

Sighing lightly she turned the page saying a silent prayer to herself that she wasn't next and that perhaps they would forget her today. Anastasia's prayers had never been answered before but that didn't keep her from having faith. It was the only thing the young woman had in here.

She did have a vision once of her brother whom was also in here or well she thought he was. It was hard to tell if her vision was of the past or the future. She hadn't mastered that yet and the sessions that she had only made everything worse. Clearly the visions couldn't be forced but that didn't stop her captors from trying to turn her into a useful weapon for them. Even if she could, she wouldn't work for them. The last thing young Anastasia wanted was for anybody to suffer the same fate as herself. She would rather die than help them.

The only reason she believed that she was kept alive was because of her gift of sight. She of course saw it more as a curse and if she could would happily dispose of it. Anastasia wanted to be a normal happy girl with people whom loved her and she loved back. That she supposed was far too much to ask.

As the screams continued she couldn't help but set the book down. It may just be wishful thinking but the screams sounded like Gaurg screams not the ones she normally heard. It was much more violent as if someone was fighting back. The thought of getting up and checking it out crossed her mind but her body didn't move. It was futile to look as she couldn't see anything out of the little hole she had to the outside world. She would for now just sit there.


[member="Azrael"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

[member="Ember Rekali"] [member="Neskar A'toll"]

The first to react were Daichi's Honor Guard. Guns pointed right at the sudden appearance, and he may very well have fired. But not a single one did. They knew a mamdalorian when they saw one, regardless if they chose suddenly appearing as the brightest move. Pale eyes fell onto Ember, which quickly fell as the Emperor looked down to his map.

"Who'd of thought I'd be happy my plea to keep this internal was disregarded. Really, all the help you can provide Mando. We're in over our head. So many chose the Sith. My people are dying. What do you suggest?"

 

[Arjant Clevenger]

Location: Cell
Objective: wait
Allies: First to come, is first to serve
Enemies: Second to come, gets destroyed

"The hell is going in out there?" Bane said as he heard screaming. But these screams weren't just any ordinary scream from a test subject. These were Graug screams. Could it be that there was a civil war between the horrid creatures?

The animal then heard explosions from his ears as the sound could be heard and others would hear it to. "Well, it sure ain't a nail that was broken. Hopefully, they'll do me the honor of blowing me up to pieces. Or better yet, to free me and use me as a weapon," Bane said as he walked around his cage. "First to come, is first to serve."

The prisoner then slowly slid down against the wall and with a knife he began to play a game called 'knife' with it. With speed he began to stab the knife in between his fingers until he would poked himself and bleed from that poke.

He continued to do this until his first customer would come and free him.

 

[Bubák]

Peeking around the corner, the young Sith woman was greeted by a warm shower of blaster fire coming from a repeating blaster mounted behind barricade in front of a building by the far end of the street, along with a small squad of soldiers who quickly opened fire at her as well. Immediately moving her head back to cover as many shots loudly hit the wall and others scorched the street next to her. The Mandalorian did not doubt her armor could survive a few shots of this beast, but knew her body probably wouldn't if she just walked through the fire, receiving many hits that would transfer the impact through the armor and the continuous fire would most likely break through the armor as well. And if it hit any part of her body not protected by armor, such as her neck... it might as well rip her head off. The red skinned woman had not noticed any cover in the street, though she could try to find safety in one of the buildings... provided the door was not locked. The Sith did not want to rush through the blaster fire only to stop and find she could not get inside the building. The risk was too high in her opinion, she had to come up with a better plan. Obviously, she could always go back and choose a different way of advancing through the battlefield, but the teenager really wanted to beat this challenge.

Izinri decided to take her chances and stick out the barrel of her blaster rifle from behind the cover and blindly fire at the enemies. The chances of hitting anyone were fairly low and she knew that, but she hoped the soldiers thought a lone Mandalorian would sooner or later reveal herself and they could gun her down easily, their weapons already positioned and waiting to be fired. Pained screams let her know her decision was right and she immediately ducked and rolled to the right, leaving her cover as she kept shooting. Their shots missed her wildly; the shock and surprise of one of their comrades getting hit impaired their accuracy and allowed her to gun them down in the short time window before they readjusted their sights. She wasn't going to give them time to do that, naturally. The first and the most important target was the trooper manning the repeater. One precise shot charred his face beyond recognition and gave Izinri even more time now that she did not have to worry about the most dangerous weapon.

It was then that she received a blaster bolt into her chest. The plating took it well, but the impact nearly knocked her off balance and caused her to fall. Almost. Charging towards the enemy barricade, she did not stop spraying the area with blaster bolts, killing one soldier who attempted to take hold of the repeating blaster before he even lifted it and another who foolishly poked his head out from behind his cover. With no other enemies in sight, Izinri slowed down and carefully approached the barricade. Jumping over it, she immediately glanced from left to right, searching for survivors. It appeared all men were dead, but one could never be too sure. Putting two blaster bolts into each's head, she was about to turn and do it to the last body when the seemingly dead corpse kicked her legs from under her. Unprepared, Izinri fell and hit the ground hard. Her hands raised the weapon immediately and the barrel of her rifle was about to point at the last soldier's torso, only to have the weapon kicked out of her hands. That was her opportunity to strike, as her opponent stood on only one leg for a second. Doing the same move as he did to her, the Sith brought the man down and without any hesitation wrapped her armored legs around his neck. One more swift move and the soldier's life ended with a satisfying snap.

Strange sensation washed over her. The young woman did not know it was the death she had caused that she felt through the Force and gave her a bit of power. It definitely felt good though. Sighing in relief, Izinri got up and picked her weapon, also eyeing the light repeating blaster on a tripod. The beast required to be fed by a power generator. It was incredibly heavy to carry, but also incredibly effective, powerful enough to pierce the armored plating on light combat vehicles. Nodding and silently laughing, the woman tossed her rifle away and grabbed the generator first and attached it to her back, thankful for not taking jetpack. Lifting the light repeater from the ground, she chuckled again. Who needed the Force or lightsabers when such beast was available?

 

[Kila Cadau]

Sith Fortifications (Or somewhere thereabouts)
A klick or so west of Neskar

Kila was nearing the Sith's defensive line - although still a sizable distance from them - which blocked the Mando'ade from reaching the Emperor's forces, who were holed up and surrounded by the Sith's forces. The initial rush of battle had faded, leaving in it's place a red tinge on her vision that she did her best to push away - she couldn't afford to be blinded by that now, when the difference between friend and foe was less clear-cut than it usually was. She needed her wits about her, not lost in bloodlust. So she kept it at bay as best she could, slowly pressing forward towards the Sith's defense. Mobile battles were Kila's specialty, because they freed her to move to closer quarters, where she excelled.

Despite Kila's best efforts, there were plenty of enemies, and she had to be careful not to push forward in one spot to be surrounded an instant later. It was difficult - sometimes more difficult than other times - to charge into a perceived opening and apparently rush to the fortifications, but until someone showed up to watch her back, she had to do it herself.

Then A'toll's communication came through, and Kila grinned maliciously beneath her helmet. Well. This would be fun. Carefully, she retreated from the current five-on-one battle and dropped beneath their line of fire, listening to their cheers fade as she raced as fast as her circumstances would allow towards A'toll's position. Let them think they've won. It won't last long. "This is Rally Master Cadau. Making my way to your position, Neskar, see you soon. Over and out."

[member="Neskar A'toll"]

 

[Darth Banshee]

Location: Drop pod
Allies: Mandalorians
Enemy: unknown

Darth Banshee had come down with the mandalorians, she new some of them hated her. She hoped by fighting by their side, she would at least try and make them distinguish between the one sith and old sith empires that had wrong them. She new when she took the task, it would be an up hill struggle. Though what challenge worthy of doing was not an up hill battle.

She moved with their troops towards the sith fortification, she kept her head down. Moment like this scared her, she new that one the mandalorian snipers might decide to shoot her. It always felt like she had to watch her back as well as enemy in front, though that shot never had come yet.