Dominion The Frontier War: Broken Chains | Mandalorian Enclave Dominion of Ryloth

[The Quartermaster]

F R O N T I E R
W A R

It was inevitable that Ryloth, the homeworld of the Twi'lek species, would be looked upon as a lucrative slave market in the wake of the Confederacy of Independent Systems’ collapse. The slave markets found the bright hues, and soft and limber bodies of its women a wanton product throughout the galaxy before slavery had been pushed out by the Confederate, and they would see its return with their absence. Countless buyers lined up and pressed their criminal contacts to acquire the sought-after merchandise. Some would say it appeared a hole was torn in the unwavering furnace of Ryloth’s sun with the number of ships that descended upon the world.

Yet the slavers forgot themselves. They took for granted the collapse of the droid-focused Confederacy, and paid no heed to the folly of their enterprise. Just as soon as they descended, the very atmosphere of the planet trembled and crashed against the hulls of the invaders. Countless balls of fire and ruin streaked down toward the many wastes of Ryloth and were quickly forgotten. Grounded, the slaver forces resolved to

The Witches of Ryloth had built their castle on that world, and the Nightsister Vytal Noctura that once led them had not forgotten the people she’d overseen as Nightmother of the Solanaceae. At the heart of the reconstructed capital of Ryloth, the pale woman led her Sisters in forming an impenetrable barrier around the city. Valiant men and women of Ryloth used underground passages to move people to the Inverted City built beneath the soil, and when that filled they would send people to the city whose spires stood proudly upon the surface untouched by the rain of weapons fire that sought to exhaust the Witches’ barrier.

Objective I
Gareinan | Ryloth

The Capital of Ryloth, Gareinan (Neverfades), is under assault by ground forces from slavers and rogue droids intent on breaching the mystical barrier and the domed city’s outer wall to make slaves of the countless Twi’lek within. Vytal Noctura resides in the command bunker sustaining the barrier just below the surface with the leaders of the city, while Local Defenders and Witches alike have begun to construct defensive positions and stand ready to hold the city at whatever cost. A call for aid has gone out. Will you aid them during their greatest need? It is only a matter of time before the assassins send ahead to find the Witches sustaining Gareinan’s greatest defense.

Objective II
Desert Wastes | Ryloth

A convoy of men, women, and children seeking refuge in the Capital have been cut off by slavers from the hidden passages that would lead to safety. They have circled their vehicles and can manage to hold off being taken for a time, but are in dire need of reinforcements. Will you save them and perhaps prevent the secret of the underground passageways being uncovered?

Objective III
Dark Hemisphere | Ryloth

Luck, it seemed, had run out for the crew of the Fortune. They had acquired quite the haul of precise ores, gems, and other lavish resources and had been passing through the Ryloth system when the slavers struck. Mistaken for part of the orbital defense, the ship took heavy damage and fell down into the planet’s gravity well. As it broke up nearing the planet’s surface, its many cargo pods had broken free and been scattered throughout Ryloth’s side of eternal darkness where unimaginable horrors lurk just out of sight. Will you brave the terrors in search of these riches?

Objective IV

Placeholder for any story that makes you want to write.

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Thread courtesy of Runi Kuryida
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[River Kryze]

Objective I

Tags: Open
Location: Ryloth, Gareinam
Gear:

Spoiler: Gear

River's Beskar Armor
WESTAR-35 Particle Blaster Pistol
MRX 1b-Blaster Rifle
JS-7 Daedalus Class Jet Pack
River's Beskad
River's Cybernetic Spine

Ryloth. It was a world that River had been to once before. Back then, she and Omar had their little voyage around the galaxy, then eventually decided to settle down. River had never cared for the planet. It was ripe with corruption, and vile slavers; most of which seemed to be government sponsored from how ineffective the sector police seemed to be. Though hearing that there was to be action taken against such disgusting individuals, she was rather jubilant at the prospect.

Yes, she might have been in her forties, and relied on cybernetics to get up in the morning, she was if nothing else, stubborn as hell. So, hearing that the city of Gareinam required aid, she had already come with her small droid forces to run interference for the initial onslaught of the slavers. Of course, she had other purposes to serve as well. Mostly repair work. The underground defenses were considerable of course, but she found the targeting vectors for the turret grid to be a tad lack luster for her tastes. Being the technomancer she was however, she couldn't resist tinkering with the data to correct the 'errors' she saw in the program. "Mrs. Kryze," A Twi'lek aid startled her, the hand seizing her shoulder and jolting her out of her working trace. Locking eyes with the woman, River exhaled and shook off the initial shock. "Just River will do, I haven't been Mrs. Kryze in years." The reality of this fact was a tad painful to admit at times, but she had long sense clung to the illusion that she still had a partner to be with. Finishing up the work on the turrets, River closed out the programs, and reapplied the security system around the access point. "Mrs. Kryze, when are your droids going to be ready?" The woman asked, seemingly ignoring River's request, though she concealed her annoyance as best she could. Raising her arm, she tapped a single switch on her wrist computer, and moved to reequip her cybernetic tendrils.

"They'll be moving into position now, is there anything-" Turning around, she found the Twi'lek gone, already disappearing back into the network of tunnels and leaving her there a tad awkwardly. "Well, no matter, was going to ask for help with getting set up but...no matter." She muttered, moving to get herself prepared for the battle that was to come.

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Location: Ryloth, Gareinam. In secure tower above the open city.

Equipment:

Spoiler

On Person:
- Cybernetic Leg.
- Beskar'gam.
- Kama.
- Devastating Chill.
- The Twins.
- The Survivor Lightsaber.

Ship:
- Cabur'tomad.

Stored In Ship:
- Pretty much everything else listed in her bio under equipment that's not another ship or vehicle, I ain't linking all of that. Basically, if it's in her bio I have the right to have Gwyn pull it outta Cabur'tomad.

Tags: | River Kryze | Open |

S E L F I S H ?​

The winds howled. Ryloth's arid dessert climate had Gwyneira sipping water through the tubes in her buy'ce as she continued to set up the heavy duty weapon she was about to use. Slavers. The vilest of the vile. Just as bad as the Arkanian geneticists that had tormented her for months on end. She already had been on a vendetta against people like these, and now the entire Enclave had received SOS signals, crying out for help against an army of slavers. Gwyneira was now finishing laying out her sniper rifle.

Secure within the walls, she looked down from the inside of the city. He basilisk droid, Cabur'tomad, was on the ground looking up at her. He had all her other equipment and weapons stored within, when the enemy came close. Gwyn smiled beneath her helmet, fond of the droid. "You ready, buddy?"

A low hum of eagerness resounded from the animal sentient droid. Gwyn chuckled and turned back, into the cervice of the wall. She secured her backup ammo, next to her rifle, and looked through the small opening in the wall where her barrel of the monster rifle was located. Beyond the walls, in the desolate desert, the enemy below was preparing for assault. The forces were on the smaller side here. Slaver scum and ill intending droids had their fair share of explosives ready to breach the wall here. They were just waiting for the order.

Of course. Gwyn would not give them the time for that order.

Slipping into the prone position, the young Mandalorian took aim. Placing her finger loosely over the trigger, she remembered her plan. She was alone, save Cabur'tomad. But she had the training of skilled Mandalorians, a dark side twi'lik, and more on her side. At the moment's notice, if enemies came too close, Gwyn would slip into Cab from the back and gear up as he counterattacked. Gwyn's targets here were smaller forces outside the wall. By dwindling them down in violent justice, she would both dwindle down the entire army and make sure she was not in over her head.

She targeted the ones with explosives at the ready first. They needed to go.

She fired.

This skirmish began.

TLDR

Spoiler

- Gwyn is hiding inside a wall of the city where a smaller force plans to use explosives to get inside from the outside. Cabur'tomad is behind the wall ready to back her up, as well as holding her equipment she is not using at the moment.

- Gwyn is secure within the wall, in the prone position, sniping the outside forces. She has backup ammo for when her current rounds run out.

- She has a quick exit, jumping point on the inside of the wall to get to Cab and board him.

- Gwyn is angery because slavers exist. Actually, she's just angery in general.

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[Delilah Solus]

Objective IV

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Tags: Open
Gear:
Kathol Lancer (Gauss Assault Rifle)
Delilah's Armor
Balmorran Arms Energy Blade
Location: On Board The Acclimation, above Ryloth space

Space combat was something that Delilah felt she thrived in. She had been a captain in the Sith Navy, and was a rather skilled pilot herself. What she didn't thrive in, was being the space patrol, but that was exactly what she was doing at the moment. Currently, The Acclimation was rotating around the planet, it's fighters stopping ships with abnormal life scans from fleeing, and subsequently removing the slaves from their captors.

Was it worth her time, perhaps. Was it something she enjoyed? Not at all.

Standing upon the bridge, hands clasped behind her back, she scowled as her fighters intercepted yet another transport. She was a tad surprised they didn't put up more of a fight, but perhaps seeing an old Sith Star Destroyer in the distance got the point across. At least it would save her from having to worry about repair costs.

Still, something to break the repetition would be nice. Perhaps the ground teams would require an orbital bombardment, though the chances of that she felt were rather slim.

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Tags: Open

The Soulless sailed over the broken plains and mountains of Ryloth towards it, flanked by his modernized fighters. Their objective was simple. Secure the area around the baggage train and protect it, having aid to those who needed it while preparing a position to prevent any slavers from thinking about raiding the baggage train.

Skimming over the unique terrain, the Ven would eventually land in a valley a couple of clicks to the south of their position while a complement of used surplus Lattys was readied to launch with the intentions of bringing the refugees back to a more defensible position before lifting off and taking the refugees wherever they desired, on the planet and beyond.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Equipment: The Blood of Dathomir Armor | Nightmother's Ward | Water of Life Potions

Allied: The Enclave | Open
Hostile: Smugglers, Looters, Pillagers
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Vytal scowled at the holodisplay of Gareinan and the surrounding region.​

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The storm breaking over Naboo had called the Nightmother back from the Nether into the realm of the living. Called her back only to find the steady erosion of the Confederacy's authority as the chaos seemed to break all bonds. What was the galaxy then to do, but immediately see Ryloth as a source of income once more? An oft repeated pattern throughout history.​

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Oft repeated, except when someone stepped in and laid waste to the fools that sought to enslave the Twi'lek people.​

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The Mandragora and Solanaceae with Vytal Noctura as their Nightmother had kept watch over the planet from Vureshakkairn Castle. The Witches had been allies of the Confederacy rather than serfs -- a common practice within a body of Independent Systems -- happy to delve into spiritual matters while eschewing military combat unless a particular Witch felt called to action. All the same, Vytal had stressed the importance of strong relations with the people whose world they shared. After all, it had been a Coven of Nightsisters that had formed the original basis of the Mandragora generations hence. A heritage Vytal had not broken, but also not entirely shared.​

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When the previous Nightmother returned and broke her covenant with the world, Vytal had taken the opportunity to form a new one; thus the Solanaceae were made. The Heavens and Hells forgive a humble Nightsister of Dathomir from reintroducing the importance of the Fanged God and Winged Goddess. Even so, the spirits of Ryloth -- and its people -- held a special place in their reverence of the Natural and Supernatural worlds.​

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Aware of the transgressions about to be forced upon those people, Vytal had felt a personal obligation not to delve into the Deep once more. How could she simply vanish and leave the Twi'lek to their fate?​

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With countless ravagers outside the defense perimeter, however, the pale woman couldn't help but scowl. They had come in greater force than she would have expected. Ordinarily, the armed forces of the Confederacy would have deterred such rabble. To think what befell Naboo hadn't frightened the entire galaxy to stay far from the Southern Systems. With the situation being as it was, however, Vytal had acquiesced to the local leaders' desire to call for the aid of the closest, major power.​

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The Enclave was not what Vytal would have considered an overwhelming force, but what they lacked in numbers they made up for in aptitude for battle. It reminded her of the Dauntless Commandos commanded by Luna Terrik . That red-headed woman had not been forgotten by Vytal, of course. They'd made up in a sense after that 'small' conflict on Shadow's Point, but that hardly meant the events -- the quality of those soldiers -- could be forgotten. Much like the Mandalorians themselves; a difficult bunch to underestimate if you wanted to live.​

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Whatever their reason for coming, Vytal Noctura was pleased to find them at arms against the pillagers and slavers that had come to Ryloth. With a little time they could secure the planet once more.​

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Her green eyes looked back over her shoulder through an archway were Witches had gathered to sustain the shield over the city. Time. Hopefully there was enough of it to spare the city from being laid waste like another dome assaulted by the Terrorists of Chaos some time ago. It was not a page in history the Nightmother wanted to repeat.​

Template By: Darth Metus (Guy)​

 

[Shakka Bralor]

O B J E C T I V E: 2

Location:Roon, South Daba'r Coast
Allies: Alora Vizsla Lora murne Open for more
Enemies: Open
Equipment:Equipment In Bio
Vehicle:NSTL-62a Landspeeder-tf

The deadly heat of Ryloth’s sun blazed overhead as Shakka’s vehicle screamed across the desert repulsorlifts humming droned. As her mind replayed the distress call she had picked up over comms shortly after arriving on the world that had birthed her species.

<”To any and all friendly forces I’m at the head of a refugee column trapped outside Gareinan we are badly outnumbered with slaver forces closing in please if you can send any help we desperately need it. Message repeats. To any and all friendly forces…”>

So she pushed into the desert as fast the transported would go hoping to be on time. She didn’t know if she would be fighting this battle alone or if others from the enclave forces had heeded the call but she knew she must go.

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[Cerar Vizsla]

R E S C U E

Objective: Rescue the convoy of refugees
Equipment: Si'kahya Beskar'gam (Jorir Variant), Mandalorian vambraces, Mk. II "Starfire" plasma caster, MS-01 "Meteor Shower" Rotary Blaster Cannon, Shuk'orok crushgaunts, Vizsla Lightsaber Beskad, Taak'tabi boots
Tags: Shakka Bralor Alora Vizsla Lora murne​

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Cerar gripped his new rotary cannon tight as his Striking Falcon carried him through the air towards the convoy's location, and for a rock he flew pretty well. It takes a true coward to attack civilians. Refugees. Slavers and their ilk disgusted Cerar almost as much as the aruetii who joined the Brotherhood of the Maw, so he was more than happy to perform a civil service for the galaxy and wipe some of 'em off the face of the system.

Seeing a Mandalorian vessel headed for the convoy as well, Cerar opened up a comm line to Shakka. "Ready to perform some community service, ner vod?" He chuckled, already spinning up the barrels of the cannon as they drew closer. He was eager to put the fresh weapon through its paces. His grey shoulder-cape flapped in the wind, and his helmet's rangefinder scanned for the first sight of the slavers. Compared to the Maw incursion in Tor Valum, this would be a piece of uj cake.​

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[Lora murne]

Rescue
Location:Roon, South Daba'r Coast

Tag Shakka Bralor Alora Vizsla Cerar Vizsla

Equipment: loras armor, 2 blaster pistols, beskad

Lora had gotten the distress call quickly hoping on her speeder riding out there at great speed at the behest of herself. Her skills where better used in the city stopping potential assassins who would destabilize their Defenses or leadership but she did as she was ordered even if he would rather reek havoc in enemy lines.

Her HUD display locked on to two friendlies as she flew up Disembarking she walked up in full armor walking up to cerar her armor waiting for the first sign of slavers "slavers almost as bad as sith" she said standing there waiting drawing her pistols.

 

[Alora Vizsla]

Location: Ryloth Wastes outside of Gareinan

Ryloth. Half dark, half bright with a tiny band of green along the middle. Naturally, the Twi'lek lived on the bright side either in large caverns below ground or domes above ground. And obviously this meant an attack had to be conducted on the bright side. So it went without saying that someone performing recon on a bunch of slaver-genius-wanna-bes had to lay down and bake under the sun that didn't set. Which begged the question...

Why does anyone live here?

It wasn't quite as bad as Tatooine though. It didn't have Hutts -- for some reason. Presumably because they were deathly allergic to green or the Confederacy had kept them out so long the fat slugs couldn't be bothered to immigrate (much to the locals' delight).

While she lay there contemplating the poorly designed nature of the galaxy with her display zoomed in on assaulting forces, Alora heard a broadcast on friendly frequencies. A soft sigh was issued. Refugee column surrounded by hostiles nearby? If she were a religious girl she would swear on some dark deity's name for how karked up everything was.

Gam, can you keep an eye on things down here? I'm going to make sure little Twis don't get scooped up.

Of course, her ship would continue monitoring the situation from its lofty perch in low orbit. It stayed out of being inside proper atmo; passive cloaking meant you could still visually see it and visually seeing something was kind of a big deal when you were planetside.

Alora slid back down the incline where she'd taken perch. Out of sight of the hostiles in her area, the Mandalorian hopped onto her speeder. It immediately veered forth and came about to make for the source of the transmission. Her boot hit the accelerator for effect.

<"Pretty sure everyone hates slavers. They're like the galactic community's punching bag. Sith have friends. Slavers don't. Creds don't count."> Alora quipped over the comm as the distance between her and the refugees, and her friends rapidly counted down.

POYO! Shakka Bralor | Cerar Vizsla | Lora murne​

 

[Kalen Genet]

Needless to say, it looked like Kalen simply couldn't catch a break lately. It was bad enough having the misfortune to get cornered by Koda Fett , even if things had worked out better than they did for most of the bounty hunter's targets. Go to Kestri, find the Enclave, or get stun blasted and dragged back to Kuat and have the goal he'd been working on for the last decade completely ruined. Or, more simply—

Look terrible, or be terrible.

Faced with the two options, it made more sense to take the wound to his pride and sense of personal honour and do what Koda had bid him, but before he even had the opportunity to leave Ryloth, before he'd even really made it back to his ship, he started getting news from his droid aboard it about multiple ships showing up in orbit, and most of them were matched to vessels run by known slaver conglomerates. Neatly blockading the world, and he didn't think his ship would make it trying to fight back out of there.

Then more started to show up. Fights erupted in orbit, planetary comm traffic was wild with news of people running back and forth, and...

Of course. News of a bunch of warriors starting to show up, many of whom were clad in unmistakable beskar'gam. It looked like he wouldn't even get the opportunity to move for Kestri on his own, at this rate; Kestri must have come to him instead. "I hope you're happy, Fett," he muttered, flipping through frequencies on his commlink, trying to get a handle on the situation. It seemed, nearby, there was one convoy of refugees that had gotten cornered. It wasn't difficult to triangulate their location with his droid's help, or to notice that there were others coming in.

Some warriors. Great.

A whole lot of slavers. Even better.

"Sithspit. Kayone, take the ship to them, low altitude, don't want to get targetted to easily by those slavers in orbit. I'll meet you there. If we're lucky it'll be like Saijo all over again." He rarely was, but he could still hope. Hope would be about all he had to work with, at least until he could convince the convoy or any of the Mandos running up to them that he wasn't with the slavers. "Alright. There's a blockade of slavers in the air, I've got a rusty swoop, two pistols, four knives, a shield gauntlet, there's Mandos out, and I don't have any armour." He started the engine back up on the swoop bike.

"Let's hit it." As he raced along, he started to notice some others headed in the same direction as the convoy, and no doubt they'd be noticing his scruffy form coming for the convoy at a breakneck pace. Hopefully they don't shoot me.

Shakka Bralor Cerar Vizsla Lora murne Alora Vizsla

 

[Shakka Bralor]

O B J E C T I V E: 2

Location:Ryloth
Allies: Alora Vizsla Lora murne Cerar Vizsla Kalen Genet Open for more
Enemies: Open
Equipment:Equipment In Bio
Vehicle:NSTL-62a Landspeeder-tf

As she sped towards the column Shakka’s comm came to life with a message on an Enclave frequency.

"Ready to perform some community service, ner vod?"

She checked her heads up display noticing three separate Enclave transponders in the area she traced the voice back to it’s transponder source but before she could answer a second voice came over the comm.

<"Pretty sure everyone hates slavers. They're like the galactic community's punching bag. Sith have friends. Slavers don't. Creds don't count.">

She linked into her comms to all three transponders and replied back.

<”Then let’s mop them up and get these people to safety. Hopefully you’re right and they don’t have friends but I would keep a weathered eye out all the same. They might have bought some reinforcements from some less than scrupulous mercs out there.”.

As she moved to link with the column and her fellow Enclave warriors an alert pinged on her HUD. Now what she thought a fourth transponder had shown up on her sensors this one was not bearing an Enclave signature. She immediately wheeled the mass driver to target on to it. Her view from the targeter reveal a rust bucket swoop bike speeding across the desert towards the refugee column. She briefly considered peeling off a warning shot towards it before deciding to broadcast on an open channel hoping to catch the swoop pilot's attention.

<”Unknown swoop pilot state your intention or be destroyed.”>

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[Roon Vindar]

FORTUNE WRECKAGE
RYLOTH
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He was alone, for the meantime.

It was often that the Mandalorian had been aided by his often bothersome Trandoshan friend, Thrassk. Yet Thrassk had business elsewhere as of the moment, and Roon found himself in service to the Enclave. Mandalore was once home, now Kestri - even if the man had often abandoned it in the search for more than a reclusive life in the corner of the outer rim. But in his heart had existed that need to return to his ilk, to aid them however one man was able to. It enabled him to rest easier, even if it was to send him to lethal environments on his lonesome. Better than all the shame and torment, Roon considered.

It was on the shadowed half of the Twi'lek homeworld that Roon roamed, amidst all the luminescent forests that had ensured his armour shined and reflected their vibrant colours. In the distance, flames had risen and so had smoke soared into the skies as if a marker themselves. But on his route towards the fall of the Fortune, obstacles in the form of fallen rocks, torn earth, and the need for silence. He dared not alert the locals. It was their murmurs that travelled on the wind, be it a Mazer, a Lylek, or even a Doashim. Roon had no intentions to find out, to be certain, and his blaster was held firmly in his hand for a reason.

He skulked forwards within the track marks of the Fortune, the walls of the ravine on either side held a series of caverns that all seemed to intertwine, connected, and from there had the animalistic footfalls started; their sounds, from either mouth or maw, could be heard but even still Roon marched on. His T-visor shifted in their direction at each sound, his scanners on constant alert, certain some beast was to become too curious, much to the Mandalorian's detriment.

Had this loot been worth more than his life?

 

[Cardin Dragr]

Doctor's In

Some a hundred feet off the sandy desert soil, Cadin was just about to arrive at his destination. He himself had flown from the capital... nearly spending the whole of the fuel of his jetpack to get here, to help the refugees rather than the forces in and around Garinan. The city had plenty of local doctors and the Enclave plenty of medics to go around. But a refugee band encircled like this? They'd very much lack any form of support in that regard.

As he came into communications range he added his voice to the mix. "This is Cardin Dragr. Here to help," He'd chime simply before dropping down from the air before making a gentle landing in the middle of the encircled refugees. He could hear the crying of children, the panic of mothers, and the anger of fathers. The people he landed nearest to gave him worried looks and even aimed their weapons at him. "Easy, Easy..." he would say in Galactic basic, then repeating himself in Twi'leki; "Bondara, bondara..." before reaching up and taking his helmet off. Giving a gentle sigh he would look at those frightened people around him. "I'm a Medic, a... I don't know the word for i-"

"We can speak Basic, Mando... now get to what you came here for, helping the wounded." One of the Elders of the group called out, and with that, he nodded. Pulling his helmet back on and gets to work. Triage was the first and foremost... seeking out the wounded fighters to get back into the fight.

He would check his comm again. "I'll be you all's eyes and ears down here as well. Let me know if you need anything from down here." He would comm out before getting back to work.

Tags: Shakka Bralor Kalen Genet Alora Vizsla Lora murne Cerar Vizsla
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[Kalen Genet]

Alora Vizsla Cardin Dragr Cerar Vizsla Lora murne Shakka Bralor ​

<”Unknown swoop pilot state your intention or be destroyed.”>

Destroyed certainly seemed a bit far, given he was coming from the opposite direction from where the nearest slaver group was. At least, according to some of the comm traffic his droid had managed to overhear. "Udesii, vod, I'm here to help," he grumbled in reply. "If you see an old REC gunship coming in soon, that's got my droid piloting it. I figure we can get these Twi'leks on there and off to someplace safer for them rather than locked up in shock cuffs in some slaver's hold, yeah?"

Hopefully that would be good enough for this group of Mandos, at least. If they were particularly trigger happy, or if any of the rest of these Enclave types were...he'd have trouble fulfilling his end of the bargain he'd made with Koda Fett. Or maybe it'd suit Fett just fine. He did only say to find the Mandalorians on Kestri, he didn't say he had to survive finding them. That they'd all come to him on Ryloth instead only made it that much faster.

"Just don't ask me to go scouting or anything. My skin's a damned sight softer than all of you with your iron right now."

 

[Fenn Stag]

Predator
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Hunting prey herds was a difficult task. To secure enough meat, you needed to quickly eliminate enough of them to feed yourself, and do so accurately, with either a well-coordinated effort, or by stealth. By doing so with stealth, you risked less, but a misstep was a critical error, and you'd return with a less than full belly.

Fenn learned this on the plains of Concordia- from his adopted father. He rarely liked to even mention that he was adopted. He was his father's son as much as he was a clone. A true clone- no genetic modification, unaltered, he was a child when the Republic's war machine fizzled out and was stamped out by the dark shadow of the Sith's boot. The unrelenting machine of kept turning-

The thought of his past was put behind him, and put himself only to task. And that task, was currently, sentry removal. Forward scouts for the movement of the slavers, seeking a return of their investment. They set up a rather well-somewhat concealed position on a dune, using a cover to conceal their communication equipment. But what they failed to do, was to account for security elements in an overwatch position. They were slavers, not soldiers or scouts.

They did not see Fenn creeping on their position in a similar shawl, though far better for concealment than theirs was. Theirs was more than a tarp, his was a shawl used commonly by the old Imperial snipers- the good ones, not the ones that paraded in white armor.

Fenn had brought his long rifle, and his father's Beskar knife. It was weighted to be held in the palm, the double sided blade meant for stabbing, rather than cutting or slicing. He raised it just above his head, as he crept along the sand. It took him a great deal to get close to the three scouts, and a good amount of time. The sand made his footsteps quiet.

The sun was towards him, he wasn't casting a shadow.

They were observing the freed slaves and his compatriots through optics.

His footsteps were measured, heels meeting the sand and then toes creeping upwards. He waited when there was a wind to move up just slightly more.
Equality was a false God- there was no equality here. There was no fairness. Combat was decisive, combat was about victors. Hunting was the same. There were times for honorable combat, but that was between combatants, warriors.

So Fenn felt little, if any remorse, when he plunged the knife into the ribs of the first, preventing him from screaming to immediately alert his friends. He twisted the knife, removing it, and moved over the second when he noticed the movement from the corner of his eye. A foot to his face turned his head, and a drop of his beskar-plated knee prevented him from any further movement. For the third, he stopped his wrist from moving to the weapon. Bracing it between his chest and arm, he locked his wrist in place, and stabbed him in the throat. He did the same to the one pinned below his knee, and for good measure, he put the knife behind their ears to ease any suffering.

Suffer not the wicked to live.

He tucked their bodies under the tarp they brought, and waited for the reinforcement, picking up his own shawl, covering himself. To any onlooker, it would seem that the armored man simply disappeared in the waves of heat and the blistering sands.

In reality, he laid down on another dune.

 

[Alora Vizsla]

Location: Ryloth Wastes outside of Gareinan

Alora's bike slid over the harsh landscape of Ryloth until the waylaid caravan came into view. Her eyes slid to the side at a map of enemy and allied forces in the area. Fingers of one hand uncurled from the handles to enter a few commands into her bracer. <"Scouting? Why would we do that? Ol' Eagle Eye in the Sky's got that covered."> Alora had the Gambit transmit the theater map to everyone that was known to be or had a strong disposition toward being allies.

Her fingers wrapped about the handle, Alora flicked a few switches in reach. <"They're on the move. Get in position."> With a whoop and screech, the bike shot forward even faster than it had closed the initiate distance between her and the field of battle. Alora's lips formed a line beneath her helmet as the dusty hills rose and fell at a blinding pace. There were reasons speeders had upper limits and it wasn't because the engine couldn't take the strain.

A colorful dime of light seemed to flick right by her as Alora shot straight toward the slavers. Apparently they felt like greeting her with a certain permanency of her residence on this planet in mind -- they were trying to shoot her. Thoughtful, if lacking in foresight.

Alora jerked the handle bars hard over to present her flank and rear to the enemy forces. A kick dropped the belly of the beast even closer to the ground; a large wave of dust, dirt, and sand shot up into the air and washed over the forward ranks of the slavers. For those that wore appropriate gear for the environ and weren't immediately reeling from shock and pain, Alora left a parting gift. Three grenades that sent the over ambitious of their number flying into the sky.

It wouldn't stop them dead in their tracks -- they were too far committed now to be dissuaded easily -- but it would give the rest time to organize. <"Here they come."> After all, she was pretty sure they'd like to have a "word" with her personally.

POYO! Shakka Bralor | Kalen Genet | Lora murne | Cerar Vizsla | Cardin Dragr | Fenn Stag​

 

[Lora murne]

Tag: Alora Vizsla Kalen Genet Cerar Vizsla Cardin Dragr Fenn Stag

Equipment: loras armor, 2 blaster pistols, beskad

"Alright fair enough slavers don't have friends but I doubt sith have any true friends either" she said as she listened to comms chatter. More people where coming to help which was good but at the same time it meant less people defending the dome hopefully they got this done quickly. And safely for everyone involved that's when she heard they where coming she got into a defensive position ready to fight the slavers.

 

[Maeve Ar'klim]

Objective IV
Help out on Ryloth

Standing on the deck of the space port on Ryloth the Capital City of Lessu

oh my here I am, I'm on Ryloth...trying to....what....oh goodness. Help yes help...why am I so scared? There's no need I'm going to...walk around and help...and say..hello. I think. Oh goodness.

Maeve stood a little straighter the CIS had fallen the emptiness left so many planets in need of help. Now here she was she was among the Mandalorians, she could see for herself what was occurring. She had a long conversation with her mother before taking the Dancing Thranta from Alderaan to come to Ryloth.

Earlier on Alderaan

"Their ways are different Maeve you understand this?" her mother Rianna Ordo..........Ar'klim..........Organa so many names and yet the same person had reminded her.

"Yes mam, I've spent time with Runi Kuryida she...you'd like her she's reminds me of you. She said I would be safe and it will give me time to learn who they are now, and help others. They are going to Ryloth and I'm going to" She had tried to say it with as much conviction she could so that her mother would know she was commited.

Rianna had looked at Maeve so much fire so much anger perhaps this is what she would need. She knew in her heart she could not stop her so it would be best to support her. "I understand Maeve, my adiik. You must learn to speak the language and know their customs."

"I remember some of what you and Buir taught us, it will help with that"

Rianna nodded, "Then be sure to take the ship fill it with supplies and help the twi'leks of Ryloth"


Ryloth now

Maeve stood now there on Ryloth that conversation in her head while she dealt with her fears. Supplies ok she had some in her hands now her ship had landed on a platform in Lessu. Ok...I can do this.

Maeve put the boxes down and went to talk with the Deck Officer for directions to the hospital. If there was one.

 

[Fenn Stag]

​

The biker in the lead came towards Alora Vizsla , veering towards her in a breakneck speed in order to reacquire his merchandise, and pay in kind to the Mandalorians what they did to his men. He had seen what she did previously- tossing his fellow compatriots around with the grenades. Six were coming towards her, in a tight, well-disciplined formation.

The leader snapped his head to the left, when he saw the speeder crash into the farthest man. The rider was slumped over, most of his body burnt away. The speeder crashed into the other, sending both riders sprawling.

A second bolt hit the leader's bike, the Disruptor rifle making short work of the metalwork, sending the lead rider across the sand.

Fenn ejected the spent cartridge with a pull of a bolt, placing in another.

Fenn wasn't using his targeting HUD at this range- he didn't need to.

He was that good.

He hadn't come up on comms yet, and he felt like he didn't need to, his position was visible if anyone cared.

Though his spot was compromised, and he'd have to rejoin the team once this round of the skirmish was over.

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