The Ession War (Reformation Jazz)

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Hanger of the Ge'hutuun above the planet capital of Essaria​

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Ession was a world caught in a civil war. This civil war had carried on for eight years, a bloody conflict that enveloped the entirety of the corporate world. On one side, the brutal dictator Jo-shal fought to maintain control of his subjects. The opposing side was comprised of the citizens of Ession, a proud and noble people led by agents of the Architects in their struggle for freedom and equality. Ession was a battleground, and taming it would prove to the galaxy that this movement--this Reformation was legitimate. The people of Ession needed something to break the stalemate: the Architects and their allies were the answer.​

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The answered arrived in the form of a San-Hill Star Destroyer in the planet's atmosphere. Those men and women who had volunteered to assist with the assault now gathered in the major hanger bay of the Ge'hutuun. The Architects had already contacted their allies on the planet below, and the rebels--no, the revolutionaries were laying siege to the capital city.​

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The entirety of the revolutionary's army was present at the battle. Numbers on either side were close to even, and the the majority of the battle has devolved into close quarters infantry combat. Neither side dared to unleash tanks on their own capital city.​

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This was where the Reformation came in.​

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Graxin Rade, traitor to the Republic, Jedi reformist, and figurehead of the now-named Ession Reformation looked down proudly upon the volunteers the Architects had dragged from every corner of the galaxy. All species and cultures mixed together in a melting pot with a singular goal shared: order. The former Knight couldn't fault them this, it was something he himself strode for.

The Dreadguard were either gathering in the hanger, or were already deployed down on the ground. Those Jedi that had joined the cause were in similar situations, and good natured souls from across the galaxy were responding the the calls for help that the people of Ession had sent out. The Reformation had power. It had people. It had strength. As Graxin looked upon these brave souls, he knew in his heart that they would succeed this day.

He'd had no time to find any armor to fit himself. Instead, he wore the standard ebony leathers he had sported in the order, freely displaying his lightsaber, and that of Darth Vulcanus on his hip. The only change to his attire was a durasteel pauldron emblazoned with the insignia of the Reformation. He wore it proudly.

The former Knight stepped atop two boxes stacked on one another. It was the only way he could see the entirety of the crowd. With a proud smile and a voice the boomed from every corner of the massive room, Graxin spoke.

[SIZE=24.0240230560303px]"Comrades." [/SIZE]Rade boomed. He folded his arms over his chest, and narrowed sharp amber eyes as he gazed over the crowd. "We have all gathered for a purpose. A noble purpose of morality, one to restore order across the galaxy. Each of us has sworn to uphold the laws of the Reformation above ourselves. We alone will become the driving force behind the galaxy's unification."


Graxin drew in a deep breath. He was an experienced public speaker, but this was not the normal speech. This was bigger, more important. He mumbled the Jedi mantra quietly under his breath, and drew himself up to his full height.

"Today, we show the galaxy and all those that would spread tyranny and disorder our strength. Today, we begin our crusade to unite all people. Today, we strike fear into the hearts of our enemies. Even the greatest of monsters flees toward the shadows in the presence of an undying light. Today, Ession, tomorrow, the system, the day after that, the galaxy!"


Graxin raised his fist into the air to punctuate that final line.






The plan was a relatively simple one. The Architects would coordinate the aerial battle and maintain communications between each group. The Centurion would lead her Dreadguard into the very heart of the city in the drop pods the Ge'hutuun sported. they would then destroy the loyalist's power generators, and assassinate each of their leaders.. The Jedi Knights would go straight for the capital building, capture whoever they could, and either bring Jo-shal into custody, or execute him. Once the Dreadguard finished with their assignment, they would join the Jedi.

Meanwhile, the newly formed Peacekeepers would swell the ranks of the revolution. If all went according to plan--and Graxin was confident that it would-- then Ession would belong to the Reformation by the end of the night.

War raged below. Each side clashed against each other in brutal urban warfare. Civilians were everywhere. The Reformation would have to be careful as to how they claimed the city of Essaria, lest they gain the ire of the people they were working to free.

Essaria​

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Spoiler

[member="Eddie"]

[member="Josiah Denko"]

[member="Riley King"]

[member="The Dark Man"]

[member="CC-953 Oddball"]

[member="CC-308 Maverick"]

[member="Aaron Kidd"]

[member="Jar Dar"]

@Corvinus Palpatine

[member="Book"]

[member="Kaigann Fossk"]

@Marucs Rann

[member="Monitor"]

[member="Rexus Drath"]

[member="Zane Hara"]

[member="Sochi Ru"]

[member="Toby Mendoza"]

 

[Riley King]

The moment after Graxin's speech was one of those brief moments when both Twelve and Riley King were equally awake and working in perfect sync within their Firrerrean vessel. Riley was cheering, Twelve was roaring her approval.

Then Twelve faded into the background, and Riley was in full control once again. Barking out orders for the Dread Guard - those that hadn't been deployed earlier anyway - to get to the drop pods, she made her way to her own. Folding herself into the metal coffin slightly awkwardly - the big woman wasn't good at fitting into tight spaces - Twelve took over the exact nanosecond that the pod dropped and the Dread Guard started plummeting to the surface of the planet.

She landed, nearly smashed her helmet into the interior of the coffin from the sudden stop, and kicked open the doors of the pod, drawing her DC-17 once she had enough karking room to light a deathstick.

[member="CC-953 Oddball"] [member="CC-308 Maverick"] [member="Graxin Rade"]

 

[Edward Vyperion]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n8NJTHXeUi8

The dictator had a secret weapon commissioned from Genosis's factory.... a V.A.D. that fought for Abrion Corporate Authority before it got it's name. The Vyperion Droid waited for a reason to get off this rock of a planet, but his starfighter was not only in the shop for repairs, but on a nearby planet courtesy of the dictator.

(Just to set the tone)

 

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A speech, and then on to business.

Book was not the talkative type--not since his transformation into a Dreadguard. There, with his fellow Mark-II's, Book had fought against the creatures of the dark side from beyond the galaxy. Beasts spawned by a threat still unknown to all, even the Architects. This was why Book fought without complaint. This was why Book had not deserted. This was why Book followed the Reformation now.

The huge man tilted his head back as the crowd began to slowly die down. He had no time to waste. A hand was brought up to his helmet; linking his HUD with one [member="Riley King"] and the other Dreadguard units joining them. It would not do to be out of contact.

The quiet warrior new little of King. He knew she was another of the more successful Dreadguard, and her beauty had taken him aback, but nothing more. It wasn't his place to ask her about who she was or pry into her business. He had an MO, and that was his only concern. shouldering his way through the crowd of soldiers and Jedi, Book settled himself down in one of the eight drop pods aboard the Ge'hutuun. Armor laden fingers traveled skillfully from one flight panel to another, carefully plotting the course destination.

"DG-06 making releasing from the nest...now."He slammed down on the hatch.

There was a loud hiss, and then the drop pod gave way. He was shot out into the cold void of space, the planet below approaching Book at a dizzying pace. Or rather, he was approaching it. The Dreadguard drew in a deep breath, and held on tight to the hand rails as the drop pod cleared the atmosphere. The hunk of metal shook violently as it dropped like a stone, narrowly avoiding turbolaser fire and the snub fighters that filled the sky like locusts.

Book had no control any longer. He kept his eyes locked on his HUD, making sure his team was still alive--until the drop pod crashed into the earth. Book jerked his head forward, cracking the outer glass on the tip of his Phase-V helmet. The materials that made the armor were far stronger than the drop pod itself.

Hastily, Book kicked open the shattered glass door, and rumbled out into the rubble. The drop pod had crashed four blocks away from the capital, right in the center of a massive firefight between the opposing sides. It had wedged itslef into the second floor of a building, and began to teeter back. "Shab." Book cursed.

He managed to snatch his DC-17 out of the pod before it tumbled violently into the street below. His DMR was left within the pod. Cursing his own stupidity, Book wiped the stock of his rifle, and took a brief look over his surroundings. Some kind of office building filled with cubicles.

"DG-06 reporting. I am boots on the ground. Twelve, your position?"


[member="Riley King"]

 

[Riley King]

Riley made a minor reappearance for her speaking part. "Roughly two klicks west of you, Six, in the middle of one of the many firefights down here. Almost wish there were more of 'em - I think I brought too much ammo." Deadpan sarcasm was a trademark of Riley's, but Twelve was the one doing the shooting, and once Riley was done talking, the radio fell silent on her end. Twelve had little to no use for words - those were Riley's domain, not hers.

[member="Book"]

 

[Toby Mendoza]

Chht! - "Seventeen reporting in, boots on the ground. Over." - Chht!​

Toby Mendoza, Sergeant and newest addition to the Dreadguard had come down with a thunderous clap. His drop pod, wedged between a civilian taxi speeder and a garbage truck. Thankfully, both were unoccupied when he landed. His hands raised to the ceiling, gripping two coolant pipes with gloved hands, raised his weight out of his seat and slammed both feet against the door. The momentum of the swing forced him out, and landing unsteadily, causing him to slam onto his knees and catching himself with his hands before he smacked his head against the asphalt. A few civilians stood around him, gaping at what they had just seen.

Chht! - "This is Seventeen, I am at Foxtrot-two-six-two, Asoi Avenue. Five blocks from the capital, Over." - Chht!​

He craned his neck away from the nearest street sign drone. Every ten meters a drone floated, alerting a speeder at any given height what street they were one. He turned to his drop pod, and with a boot thrown to the frame, he peeled his CZ-837 light machine gun out of its magnetic hold. The nozzle of a flash suppressor sat on the tip of the weapon, with a 3.4x optical scope attachment and bipod, not to mention the pouches of ammunition. At fifteen kilograms, it was a heavy weapon and not at all a 'light machine gun', but at eight-hundred-rounds-per-minute, it could turn any man in front of him into swiss cheese. He looked to his right down the street when he heard the massive crash of a drop pod falling from a second story building, and down below the ensuing fight.

Chht! - "Reporting in, I've got eyes on six. Over." - Chht!​

{ [member="Riley King"] | [member=Book] }

 

[Marcus Rann]

Marcus was not a rookie in basis of combat and warfare, since he has been trained by a force-sensitive himself and challenged by different delusions of the dark side, although he was a bit repressed on his own enemy occurring in his own mind that is very is inevitable on his
own perspective.

As he strolls down to fetch to the Capitol, the young - but avid smoker lights up a cigarillo scroundelly as he witness two Dreadguard units on the way, with his seemingly cold hands by the side of his pockets , and conceal himself by a cloak hanging by his shoulders.

" 'Ol accurate armored borgs, check. " Marcus muttered and laughed to himself as he walks through the yet- deserted streets.

 

[Riley King]

People, pieces, orders. Being in charge in a battle got real confusing, real fast. Dammit Monitor, why'd you put me in charge?

Ah well. What was done was done, and complaining about it was going to do exactly jack to help the situation. Seventeen and Six were on the ground, Seventeen had eyes on Six. Fair enough.

"Do some damage and head for the capital. Jo-shal and-or his main lieutenants should be there. Pair up or stay separate, I don't care, just kark up as many days as you can."

[member="Toby Mendoza"] [member="Book"]

 

[Rexus Drath]

The former imperial knight wore his standard civilian clothing, a pair of dark blue jeans and t-shirt that had the words "This is the droid you are looking for" plastered in bright bold white letters underneath it had an almost holographic helmet of an imperial storm trooper. With a cigarette hanging limply from his mouth, Rexus was ready to roll. He had the motto that armor while effect if in saving your life. Was uncomfortable as shit. Strapped to his back had the rifle from the moons of Gratos, a lancer blaster rifle of Graug make rather than protectorate. Across his chest a bandolier of ammo and grenades hung off him in a loose but easy to access fashion. Running a hand across his messy dreads with his armored fist he brushed a few strands of his hair from the Cortosis glove of the imperial knights. "Always with the speeches." He spoke and with a few flicks of a lighter he inhaled a long drag of poison into his lungs. Exhaling smoke into the crowded air of the star destroyer, Rexus made his way to a drop pod to begin his new line of work.

He loved the empire, it was his life. Imperialism is what he had grown up with and every moment of every day he was told it was the right thing, and that people needed the empire with a hearty breakfast of Big Brother-Os. However over time Rexus was forced to take people from their homes as am inquisitor, he was forced to watch innocent people be transformed into monsters and super soldiers against their will. That was not a life he wanted to live. So he left, and when he did he met the Jedi Knight [member="Graxin Rade"]. And as they say the rest is history. The knight settled into his seat in a drop pod and checked everything again. Tenellos Revolver, Lancer blaster rifle, ammo and grenades, and the most important things. His glove and silver saber. Clutching his cigarette with two fingers in his gloved hands Rexus took a long hit of his smoke and blew it out. "Catch phrase" he said pulling the hatch and dropping the pod down into the air

"Woooooooooooooohoooooooooooo!!!!" Rexus chuckled whilst the drop pod soared down towards the planets surface. His cigarette had gone loose and the cherry red tip of the menthol was floating through the cabin with zero Gs. Rexus laughed a bit and quickly winced and let out a curse when the tip of the cigarette grazed his skin. Getting his game face on the drop pod slammed into the earth and rocked Rex to the core. Taking a second he pulled the emergency hatch and with a push from the force the door exploded outwards and the average height knight came out with one hand around a smoke on his mouth and a glowing silver blade in his other.

"That's how you make an entrance" he said with a slight chuckle on his face landing near the woman [member="Riley King"]. "Sup?" He said in deadpan voice

 

[Riley King]

Riley's head moved slightly as she glanced at him, half-amused, half-annoyed, and half-exasperated.

Wait. That's too many halves...doesn't matter, the point still stands.

"Nice entrance." She said, matching Rexus's tone. Twelve, back in control between communicating, gunned down a few of the bolder loyalists and made an attempt at talking. "You planning on fighting or standing around spouting oneliners?"

Okay, so there was a reason Riley was in charge of talking, not Twelve.

[member="Rexus Drath"]

 

[Marcus Rann]

As the juvenile and barely-archaic initiate walks by the facade of the capitol building, Marcus threw up his cigarillo on to a dusty exterior flooring of the temple. Battle-ready and active, he proceeds within the building boldly and his head held high, exhibiting courage with his personality esteemed. He tilted his head sideways and lengthen his arms on a swaying motion while he walked on a peaceful amble up to the steps leading. The impulse of his dependent nature to be a keeper of peace draw him on an urge to join the Reformation more so. While he climbs up the steps of the Temple, thousands of roaring blasts and gunfire are heard outermost, as the capitol building keep watch the disarray heard on the farther corners nigh the city. Gory conflicts wage around the corners of Ession, with its innocent inhabitants are not left off, wherein the night, thousands of crying innocents are to be heard. Disputes are seen inside the cloudy and steamy falls. As the waning civil war emerges, the fatigued - but confident Marcus opens the door of the capitol building, finding that seemingly there is no one in the said structure. The young Korun then sat on the temple's breastwork while expecting someone to enter. Unfortunately, he slumbered very deep on boredom. After waking up on drowse, the conclusive initiate still got to settle up no one in the temple.

" I wonder where they are, maybe they are slumbering like I did or maybe they are even... err. I mean these well-fabricated buildings are supposed to be filled with people, pfft. " the doubtful Marcus wittingly said to himself while looking to the still naught pavements prior to the structure.

 

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Eyes on me, eh?

Book straightened up as he strode through the cubicles. The white squares were covered with a thin film of dust--most definitely from the explosions rocking the entire city. The Revolutionaries might have refrained from using artillery, but home brewed explosives were their usual weapon of choice.

The Dreadguard ran a heavily armored hand along one of the white surfaces, and examined the gray film that coated the palm of his hand. Within his helmet, he cracked the tiniest of smiles. The smallest things entertained Book, and he knew it. It was a fact that he kept closely guarded; better his comrades believe him to be some emotionally damaged sociopath. It made things easier.

"Aknowledged seventeen. Maintain comm silence until we reach rally point alpha outside the capital. We'll await the Jedi there. Twelve out."

So he needed to reach seventeen, that was doable. Book broke into a sprint; something that would look terrifying to most. The sight of a two meter tall man clad in heavy armor running at speeds most humans had difficulty reaching was more than a little intimidating. He rounded down one flight of stairs, then another, then ano--

"Conta--!"

Book's fist came up into the woman's face. Her helmet took the brunt of the blow, though the familiar feeling of cartilage shattering under his knuckles sent a shudder down Book's spine. The woman reeled back and fell back onto the ground. Her three comrades all turned, bewildered as to what had just happened. In that time, Book brought his 'Deece' up to bare.

The weapon produced a quiet kick as it loaded the trio full of azure plasma. The woman reached for her sidearm--Book promptly ended her life with a clean bolt to the head. He strode out onto the road with a purpose, careful to stay behind an overturned speeder for cover.

He caught sight of seventeen. "Jedi should arrive soon." He yelled. "Push on."


[member="Marcus Rann"] [member="Riley King"] [member="Rexus Drath"] [member="Toby Mendoza"]

 

[Rexus Drath]

[member="Riley King"]

Rex chuckled a bit and lifted the saber casually to deflect a blaster bolt that crossed his path. "Depends if you can keep up." Twirling his silver saber the blade hummed in the air Rexus jumped down from his pod and sprinted over a crashed speeder. It reminded him of the days of old, running with the emperors own legion. Those days were gone though sadly, and now it was time to attack. Blaster fire poured out of the lobby of ruined hotel. The building looked to be over twenty stories and it towered over others within this district. It would be a good spotting position for Ession troopers. "Push the lobby!" Rexus barked out and ducked under blaster bolt backwards the blue stream of light taking half his cigarette from his mouth

Bounding forward Rexus slapped a few more bolts down and jumped through a window into the lobby. Inside Rexus could see a flock of angry loyalist totting weapons that looked fairly deadly. With a quick count there was a solid twenty of them holding down this lobby. "Alright!" Rexus pushed forward deflecting a bolt into the chest of a loyalist taking a drag as he did so. Pulling his revolver from bbw hind his back he dumped three rounds into the chest of another. If the others wereng aware of his presence inside the lobby they were now.

 

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Graxin wasted little time entering the fray. Unlike the Dreadguard, he and the Peacekeepers had taken to a more traditional route--drop ships. Graxin, however, diverged from that norm. He sat in the cockpit of the J-1 starfighter that he had borrowed from the Order upon leaving.

Kaigann was assigned to his own fighter as his master's wingman for now. [member="The Dark Man"] was likely already on the ground doing what he usually did. Graxin would not try to give Ekul orders, for in all rights, Ekul was his senior other than rank. The Dark Man knew exactly where he needed to be on the battlefield, and it was not the Archlord's place to tell him otherwise.

The J-1 dipped low, away from the row of dropships heading for the city below. Graxin relied entirely on the force to dive, weave, and roll away from the anti-air fire. His fingers held to the controls white knuckled, his brow set in determination. Ahead, the massive structure that was the capital stared up at him. It was quite the eyesore. From it, over a dozen droid snub fighters flew up to engage the Reformation's forces.

The droids tore through one of the dropships, and set off a pang of worry in Graxin;s chest. He immediately veered off course, unleashing a hail of emerald bolts into two of the snub fighters that drew too close to the dropships.

"Try not to explode Kaigann, that wouldn't be good for your health." He quipped toward his Padawan, partly to keep the boy at ease, and partly to make sure he was paying attention.

It was only then that he opened the comm channel to all units on the ground. "This is Archlord Rade. Dropships are away. Status?"




Marcus Rann Riley King Rexus Drath Toby Mendoza [member="Kaigann Fossk"] [member="The Dark Man"]

 

[The Dark Man]

The Dark Man
________________________

[Ambience]

Fireteam Zulu moved stealthily through thinly corridors and alleyways lit by strobe lights. Their tech was by far ancient, but progression in the field of technology in the galaxy had for thousands of years been stagnant, and while there were those who boasted superior firepower and armour, their ancient armour and countless load out kits were nonetheless advantageous. They were nearest to the capital, and with them were two Jedi. They had spotted someone, unbeknownst to them it was Marcus Rann, and they were hunting him down as if he were one of the loyalists. His brash manner and casual-pace had alerted team leader, Commander May, as being a potential loyalist, and perhaps would lead them into the capital building itself. The compound was perhaps one of the most heavily guarded fortifications on the planet, and The Dark Man was taking no risks.

E-web emplacements strung across the barricades accompanied by seemingly a legion of officers in riot-gear. Shield walls were erected to fend off the insurgents. While not up to standard with other government defences across the galaxy, it would still pose a challenge for Fireteam Zulu and their two compatriots. Marcus had clearly mistaken an old temple for the government building, and he was unknowingly leading Fireteam Zulu with him. "Double-time!" May roared over his commlink, "It went down this way! MOVE!" His voice was stern and battle-hardened from the conflicts over Chaeronea, one of the deadliest and fiercest wars this galaxy had seen. Six major factions had clashed, and to the surprise of many, the Silver Jedi led by Jedi General and Councilman, Hasjo Hallu, alongside Commander May, had won the day.

They moved in on the temple, following behind Marcus now, rifles raised and safeties off. They stormed through the door, kicking it down moments after Marcus had entered. "Breaching," a corporal said and fell in line behind his fellows. The Dark Man loomed in the shadows and approached warily. His voice, like gravel down a metal chute, spoke, "You've got the wrong building, Commander." His eye-less gaze drifted to Marcus, "And who are you?"

{ [member="Mo Ye"] | [member="Marcus Rann"] }

 

[Oddball]

The whirling sound of the Z-6 Rotarry Canon wafted into the blaster and scream filled air. Soon after the sound of genuine laughter bellowing from a force dead Fett Clone "COME AND GET SOME!!" The canon roared and fired torrents of blue blaster fire from it's multiple barrels. "THIS IS CLONE COMMANDO ODDBALL ON THE GROUND!!" He yelled into his comm piece over the nauseatingly loud canon. The Dread Guard Commando had seen a lot in his day, fighting for the confederacy, seeing his brothers turn on one another. And even the death of his commander Galaar. He was a good man, Oddball didn't know him very well besides the spice they shared in his first mission. But he knew this about Galaar. He was a good man, and Oddball would of followed him to hell and back. But he was dead now, and they had to move on.

Oddball pushed up the streets and fired the massive canon gunning down loyalists as they crossed him. "YOU WANT SOME TOO?!" He yelled out in defience as a blaster bolt hit his phrick armor. Turning around he fired the mighty canon and killed another loyalist that had damaged his shiny armor. Pushing up next to his commander. [member="Riley King"] he checked comms then yelled to her as he fired "Commander King! Command is asking for a SitRep!" He said before shifting the massive canon to fire again
[member="Book"] [member="Riley King"] [member="The Dark Man"] [member="Graxin Rade"]

 

[The Upright Man]

Location: Near Capital
Allies: Fireteam Zulu, The Dark Man
Enemies: Ession Loyalists
Objective: Capture the Capital
Equipment: (1) Lightsaber
Theme: Iron


Mo Ye forced himself to catch up. As an Aleena, he was already disadvantaged by his own height, standing at point-eight of a meter. Unlike his five-foot-ten Master, he was a meagre two-foot-six. A small interloping creature like the others scurrying through the dumpsters and alleyways. Unlike them, he was a Jedi. He wore bagged brown robes, now drenched in rain, and a cloak that dragged far behind him as if it were more suited for an average adult human. Small beady eyes followed the gaze of his Master, and fell upon Marcus. He squinted at him, attempting to feel him out with the Force. While not adept quite yet with the Force, he knew that the man was friendly.
[member="The Dark Man"] [member="Marcus Rann"]

 

[Riley King]

People were moving, Twelve had enemies to kill, and Riley was taking a backseat to the action inside the head she shared with Twelve, coming out occasionally to talk to the people who didn't live in her head.

Twelve followed Rexus towards the lobby, forgoing making liberal use of her DC-17 and instead opting to use one of the thermal detonators. "Cover!" She snapped at the Jedi - or whatever he considered himself - and the det came sailing neatly in and rolling to a stop before exploding. It was one of the less-powerful dets in Twelve's possession, so it would only kill perhaps two or three of the loyalists outright, but chances were good it would take a few others out of the fight and leave the building stable. Another added bonus was that there was a good chance Rexus wouldn't be badly hurt by it, if indeed he failed to throw up some kind of fancy force-shield or dive behind some furniture.

Then Oddball occurred over the comms and Riley nearly burst out laughing. Oddball - maybe not all there, but he was a deadly son of a Hutt with that cannon of his.

[member="CC-953 Oddball"] [member="Rexus Drath"] [member="Book"] [member="Toby Mendoza"]

 

[Edward Vyperion]

The VAD heard the sounds of combat near and in the capital building, sounds like he has a cause to join in and actually betray someone for once. He then took the gun he was given and shot one of the dictator's loyalists in the head with it.

(Not sure what point to really betray at xD)

 

[Toby Mendoza]

Chht! - "Aknowledged seventeen. Maintain comm silence until we reach rally point alpha outside the capital. We'll await the Jedi there. Twelve out." - Chht!​

Mendoza hit the deck as a salvo of blaster fire tore through the space of air that he had formerly occupied only seconds ago. He rolled under the truck, where the incoming fire caused divots in the metal and churned it into a molten slag. Mendoza flipped up his bipod, resting the stock of his LMG against his shoulder, eyes peering down range as he adjusted his scope. He tapped the rifle gently, there was no flash but there was certainly a roar. He kept tapping his finger, firing off precise rounds of slugs at the loyalists nearest to Book. Twelve shouted out to him, "Jedi should arrive soon. Push on." Mendoza crawled out from the truck, jogging down the road to catch up, rifle lowered in both his hands. "Sit-rep?" Mendoza asked.

{ [member="Book"] }