The Magnificent Probably More than Seven [Primeval Invasion of Mandalorian Wayland]

[Cordelia deWinter]

Objective: Boom Boom Napalm The Mando Site
Location: Objective A
Allies: Primeval @anja aj’rou [member="Boo Chiyo"] [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] [member="The Dark Man"] @ue-’ku… sorry dude your name is too freaking long.
Enemies: Mandalorians at Objective A @Olivia Dem’adas [member="Draco Vereen"] [member="Arrbi Betna"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Zathra Fett"]

NPCS:
A unit of The Golden Banner 5th
Strength: 120 troops + 20 MIFV’s
Objective: That Mando site in Objective A
Location: Objective A
Controller: Me


Her intangible form would drift onto the ether, moving past metal, wood, and permacrete onto the beyond. In her meditation, Cordelia would scout up ahead. It was there that she spotted the great metal beast and its rider.

Cordelia's delicate brow would furrow in intrigue. What was this? she would muse. There was something about him, something that would call to her. A thought came to mind, an agenda. Returning to her body, pale lavender eyes would snap open.

New orders were given to the MIFV's. A barrage of concentrated fire would go straight to the Mythosaur, intending to fell it and bring it to it's knees. What would happen next would depend on that outcome, but a singular upward curve of Cordelia's right corner of her lip behind her mask would indicate a refreshed interest in the battle.

Yes.

Dream a little dream for me.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Location: Somewhere in the Jungles Now
Objective: A (Kinda) B mostly But leave me alone
Allies: None
Enemies: [member="Cordelia deWinter"]

An alarm sounded. My comm's buzzed. "Sir heavy rocket strike, one hundred contacts and counting." That was a lot. Maybe enough to bring the beast down. "Abandon ship." It was all I could say. We didn't have much time. We didn't need too much, but the beast might perish in the onslaught and I was unwilling to risk ninety lives on a maybe. Crew began piling out as ordered, infantry diving from the vehicle, using jump packs to speed away from the metal monstrosity. While it had been reeking havoc with 800 kilogram explosive shells meant to bring down capital ships on simple infantry, the enemy had taken notice. They had prepared themselves and launched a coordinated, albeit heavy, strike on the beast. I mounted Netra, letting him speed me to the safety of the open air, his metal muscles pulsing with power, his engines revving, his shields powering on to protect us both. We barely escaped the Mythosaur before the rockets slammed into its shields. For a moment they held, but as the rockets continued hitting its advanced corvette grade shields, they began slipping through, detonating against the hull.

Netra powered me up and away from the fight, his mind on nothing but our survival. That is why he had been built. To protect what I held most dear. We arched high over the field, his engines speeding us away rapidly, I looked down. One of the rockets found purchase in the ammunition store, particularly the Heavy Capital Ship grade missiles held within the vehicle. It immolated, the rear compartment disintegrating in a hail of fire. The mighty beast slouched backwards and collapsed in front of the main entrance. Several of the Droid operated weapons, such as single Quad Laser Cannon and the forward Autocannon. Those might prove minor obstacles should the Primeval forces get too close.

Netra turned to fly out over the jungles surrounding the fortress. He was no longer interested in staying and fighting, and well, I had other things to worry about. A lone AA battery, stuck off in the woods began firing. At first its lasers found purchase on Netra's Molecular shielding, but as the bolts continued even that fell. We took some light scraps, but one bolt glanced his engine, sending us spiraling into the jungles. I separated from the droid, pulling myself away, using my own jump pack to slow my descent. The first branches struck hard, but the second shook me, sending me sprawling into the lower branches, knocking the wind from my lungs. The lowest branches jarred my and blurred my vision. Then the ground broke my fall. Travelling as fast as I was I was lucky not to be dead. Out here, alone in the jungle, somewhere, with no one nearby, I probably would be soon.

I lay now, blood in my mouth, eyes teary and vision blurred, bones probably broken, and thoughts on happier memories. "I will join you soon my love." And I closed my eyes, part of me hoping it was the last time I would.

 

[Boethiah]

Location: Fort Monroe, approaching the gate.
Objective: A ; infiltrate the fort.
Allies: [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="The Dark Man"] | [member="Mard Szaks"] | [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] | [member="Cordelia deWinter"] | [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"] | @BlindSlavePerson
Enemies: [member="Olivia Dem'adas"] | [member="Arrbi Betna"] | [member="Draco Vereen"] | [member="Zathra Fett"] | [member="Dariak Talesa"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"]
Gear: Armour | Weapon

Spoiler: NPC

Unit: The Gulandi Warriors
Strength: 141/150
Location: Near Anja
Objective: Defend Anja
Controller: Anja Aj'Rou

The rockets exploded in succession, the smell of napalm filled the air with a strong stench that could even cover up the scent of death. The attack hit hard and despite their relative safety within the line eight of the Gulandi were desecrated right there and then. A shell hit one, pieces of shrapnel flew and one such piece scratched the side of Anja's phrik armour. Were she wearing anything else she may have very well lost a lot of blood resulting from the gaping wound it would otherwise have caused. Besides tossing her off path a bit, no damage was done to the witch herself.

"Keep moving!" She shouted the orders, "Arka Tah!" The chant followed after in enthusiasm, the Gulandi did not waver -- in fact the death of their eight comrades inspired an increased drive in the unit, the soldiers who worshiped death grew eager to face their own or inflict such a fate upon their enemies as they assaulted in droves.

Charging forward the Gulandi took advantage of the distraction under the rocket fire and rushed up the cleared path as Cordelia drew Draco's attention away from her. The force energies pooled inside of her, air around her fluctuated in temperature, hot then cold, moisture formed and then evaporated. Whatever plan she had it was surely sinister from their perspective but she needed only a bit more time... For now the energy continued to swell inside, engorging that which she used to summon her magicks.

A few stragglers took the opportunity to fire their disruptor rifles along the flanks as rockets fell, whether or not they hit anyone they ran back to regroup.

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Objective: A

Location: Witnessing the beautiful atrocities of war...
Allies: Primeval, [member="Anja Aj'Rou"], [member="[/FONT][/SIZE]Ue-‘Kuo-‘Koe’c’cu-Eou"], [member="Boo Chiyo"], [member="The Dark Man"], [member="Keira Ticon"], [member="Mard Szaks"], [member="Cordelia deWinter"], @Anybody else I'm missing
Enemies: Mandalorians, [member="Olivia Dem'adas"], [member="Arrbi Betna"], [member="Vilaz Munin"], [member="Dariak Talesa"] (coming for you guys in the bunkers mostly I guess ), [member="Draco Vereen"], [member="Zathra Fett"], @Anybody else I'm missing
Gear: Hover Throne, Dalek Hands, Vaapad Familiar, The Awe and Fear of the Meek and Vulnerable

Unit: Zambrano Terror Runners; A unit full of criminals, captives, and other slaves with the most basic armor, and dysfunctional vibroblades, each one rigged to run away from their Warlord Zambrano the Hutt into enemy lines no matter their level of exhaustion... and explode.

Strength: 150 Reinforcements, 150 K.I.A.
Objective: A
Location: Resting far behind the treeline
Controller: Zambrano the Hutt

Suddenly the Hutt stood before the war zone, just after the tree line, watching as the last of his runners desperately attempted to escape him. One of them was not so lucky however, it ran too slowly, allowing his grip over them to extend out and catch them. Zealous tendriled figures wrapped around the pigeon neck of the childlike being, pouring acidic saliva down its neck, allowing it to howl in pain as it thrashed. It scratched the Hutt, clawed at him, beat him, but it was all in vain. His hands were too strong, his penchant for pain too great, and his delicious desire for meat unquenchable. The slaves efforts were entirely fruitless, likes its entire cattle like existence since being forced underneath him.

Slowly, the slave died an excruciating death for its ineptitude to do so against the enemy in a brilliant flash of light and blood. It would probably have been painless and stress relieving, but now it had no such opportunity. As his hands slowly began to devour the head alive and screaming at the top of its acid filled longs, the Warlords eyes looked upon the desolated battlefield. The ground was tinted was a crimson hue, as the ground was upheaved wherever the runners had stepped or exploded from incoming artillery, grenades, ion and machine gun fire. Razor wire fences were bloody, filled with bodies, and some of it detonated by the Terror Runners. Very few ever made it to the Bunkers. Only a little more than a dozen.

A moment later, something beeped on his chair, and a voice echoed into his ear....

"Would you like to play again?"

The monster smiled, and it was good. Dropping the half melted body on the ground, completely decapitated spilling little blood out of its cauterized throat though enough to pool around the body, Zambrano turned around back into the forest as the sounds of war played out behind him.

The Terror was far from over.

 

[Allyson Locke]

Objective: Fight
Location: Jungle
Allies: Lol
Enemies: [member="Preliat Mantis"]; anyone who decides to interfere
Equipment: A lightsaber and her Armor (check bio link for Force powers and Armor link)

Spencer had been keeping to herself most of the fight, she wasn’t really interested in anything really. The Mandos were nothing she disliked or were annoyed with. Her Echani heritage respected them more than anything. Her eyes scanned watching Lord Daemos do his thing along with the other sithlings that decided to scatter. She wasn’t a fan of the Sith, they were more of an annoyance than anything, full of pride and lackluster abilities. Pushing off from one of the trees she quickly took note of one of the mandalorians. A grin swept across her face as the inner Echani woman put him as a worthy opponent. It had been awhile since she fought someone fresh, someone who didn’t know who or what she was.

Ashin was great and all, but the woman knew her like the back of her hand. Adjusting the armor she wore she stripped herself of the casual Jedi attire and moved away from the tree. Taking a few steps forward she focused the Force on the back of the Mandalorian, his body would feel the sudden pull of the force as she drew him closer to her. A bubbly smile as she attempted to drag him towards her and away from those he thought he wanted to encounter.

“Your opponent is me. Stop fighting children and fight like a Mandalorian.”

((sorry for the short post just wanted to get it started between us!))

Spoiler

[member="Lord Daemos"] @Bah'gul @Muab Dib

 

[Strider Garon]

Location: Jungle
Objective: Rumble in the jungle
Allies: Mandolorians [member="Conner Garon"]
Enemies: [member="Perla Pirjo"] [member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]
Gear: Link is in my sig for the rest of my gear. Just to clarify though my jetpack has been replaced with ysalamiri nutrient frame

Strider could feel the breeze that the witch was mentioning. She stood in the open taunting the heavily armed mando who had his sights on the brave woman. What ever force trickery that was forcing the wind into this sphere of protection (10 meters) was all that it was, just wind being manipulated beyond the ysalamiri's dedicated perimeter. Strider's environmental scanners could not pick up any toxins in the air, giving him some sense of reassurance against the Witch's vague threats and to his guesses of possible threat.

"I got this witch, you get the crab wearing #$@!#" The older Garon informed his much younger offspring. Perla was baiting him to come closer but to what means? She must know by now that both mandalorians were protected from the force and the only thought that came to mind was that she wanted to test her metal against the old hound in a contest of hand to hand combat. Such a thought brought a smile to the old warrior's face, hidden under his helmet. The pleasurable thought and grin were quickly extinguished as he began to advance upon the woman and his damaged bionic leg acted up. Though the direct damage done to the leg itself was not causing Strider pain, it was the awkward limp and the favoring of it that caused pain else where in his ancient bulk of skin on bone.

Maybe the woman was not as stupid as he predicted. She clearly was playing to possible advantage with the Mandalorian warrior being crippled at the leg, making his maneuverability incredibly at fault. Such evident was in his limp as he cautiously approached her. If the girl knew anything of melee and had skill in the martials, she would know she had her age, agility and endurance against the more senior opponents might and experience. Even Strider knew this and yet he marched on, falling for the girl's bait.

Now, was he moving into a trap or not? only one way to find out but the Mandalorian wasn't going to pass up a chance to meet a force user in hand to hand combat. Like the legendary Jango Fett killing Jedi with his bare hands, Strider saw himself capable enough to mimic such grand feat. "Just hold still and let an old man make the distance" He would chuckle still holding the EE-3 carbine drawn upon the force magician..... just encase she had second thoughts on letting the hound get to close.

 

[Keira Priest]

Location: Approaching the fort
Objective: A; Definitely not a Sith
Allies: [member="Anja Aj'Rou"], [member="Zambrano the Hutt"], [member="Boo Chiyo"], [member="The Dark Man"], [member="Cordelia deWinter"], [member="Mard Szaks"], [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"]
Enemies: [member="Arrbi Betna"], [member="Vilaz Munin"], [member="Olivia Dem'adas"], [member="Draco Vereen"], [member="Zathra Fett"], [member="Dariak Talesa"]
Gear: Lightsaber
NPC

Spoiler

Unit: The Primeval Prisoners
Strength: 37 33
Location: Approaching the fort
Objective: Bring down Fort Monroe
Controller: Keira Ticon

Attention, always too much attention. That was the benefit and detriment of fighting someone like the Mandalorians. The lightsaber in her hand was an instant beacon to any nearby enemy soldiers that Keira most definitely wasn't your average infantry in the least. Another gunshot among thousands rang out, but it wasn't quite the same as the others. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, a prodding at her subconscious, move, now, lest she find herself out of the fight before it had even begun. A shot to the abdomen would incapacitate if not kill her eventually, neither outcomes desirable. But sometimes fast wasn't fast enough, and as she sidestepped fire still blossomed in her left side, eliciting a string of curses in Old Corellian, her forward steps faltering for a moment.

The pain itself was a searing heat that tore across her left side. A graze rather than a puncture, blood still staining crimson. Once more she was reminded of her own mortality, and the fact that, while Force sensitive, she was far from any sort of immortal. Physical pain was far from unfamiliar, but it still took its fair toll. Her awareness fumbled just long enough for a blaster bolt to slip past her defenses, a minor burn manifesting itself across her temple. A grimace flashed briefly across her face, but stubbornly she pressed on, unwilling to let herself be brought down so easily. If anything, her resolve was only further tempered, her want to bring down the stronghold in front of them only increasing. Things were just a bit more personal, now that the damage had been dealt.

Malveniha. That injury would only be capitalized upon as they neared the fort, but she was confident enough in her own ability to hold against any adversaries once some kind of close contact had been engaged. The most damage would be suffered by both sides once they were within sight of each other. And she was more than ready to return that which had already been inflicted tenfold. Another shot of pain coursed through her side, the muscles of her jaw working in silent retort. The fact that she was hurting meant only one thing: that she wasn't dead yet. And in time, she intended to make them wish she was.

Spoiler

Apologies for the short post, I wasn't sure what else to write.

 

[Matreya]

Objective: Defeat the Mandalorians in the Jungle
Location: Jungle
Allies: Primeval | [member="Bal'gul"]
Enemies: Mandalorians | [member="Muad Dib"] | [member="Bestala Vizsla"]
Gear: Tantibus | Kalligs Scorching Saber | Sith Beskar'gam | 3 Betty Blasters | 12 Ammo Packs | 1 Bodo Bass Gun belt stocked with Traditional, Incindiary and Cryogenic Grenades

Damien, seeing a chance at victory, reached into his Bodo Bass Gun belt, drew forth dual explosives - one incidiary, the other regular - and pulled the pins. With a gentle nudge from the force, without giving any bodily display of throw, Damien let them be yanked free of his hands and roll towards the newcomer; albeit slow, he did his best to make sure they rolled through the foliage before his other opponent.

Thus, returning his attentions to Muad, Damien began charging forward - thrusted into a grand speed thanks to his Tera Vampir genetics combined with the explosions behind him - continuing the same looped effect battling at his opponents senses - it was obviously working to some effect as he seemed to ride the wave, yet with his body wounded, it would worsen his state regardless of how small the effect. Lunging into the air, Damien drew Kalligs Scorching Saber in a downward slash meant to cleave from clavicle to the opposite side of the pelvis.

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

Objective: A
Enemies: The Primeval
Gear: In Sig/Bio Go read, I swear it won't take long
Secondary Objective: Get to the Fort A.K.A this is a transit post

A single freighter dropped out of hyperspace above Wayland, The Lazy Strill, Gilamar Skirata's personal home slash ship slash whatever he needed it to be. It weaved and bobbed through the on-going space battles, dodging fire from friend and foe alike. With a grunt Gilamar looked over to his pilot, a strange conglomerate of the infamous Rave Merril's DNA, Sith Magic and his own DNA cloned for a purpose that was still unknown to both of them. Gilamar had distanced himself from that creature but eventually...The two came to a mutual understanding. He was as much of a father as the young man would ever receive, besides he needed a co-pilot every once in a while.

"You doin' alright there kid?" Mordecai's face didn't even flinch as he focused on not getting the pair killed.

"Just fine Gilamar, don't you have somewhere to be?" A hearty laugh erupted from the older Mandalorian as he swung his heavy boots off of the dashboard and nodded. He placed a heavy hand on the lad's shoulder and looked out of the viewport,

"Isn't this a sight to see?" Mordecai chuckled and the old man walked to the cargo bay where his tried and true companion stood waiting.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

​

​

Objective: Objective B
Location: Place #2
Allies: The Primeval
Enemies: The Mandalorians, [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]
Gear:

• Vornskr's Sith Armor
• Custom Sith Shuk'orok
• Vornskr's Sith Lightsaber
• Vornskr's Secondary Sith Lightsaber
• The Scepter of Power

Eventually the Sith Lord was flung from the raging fire tornado with great force, slamming into a tree with his side that sent a bone-crunching ache through his torso, and he distantly felt many of his bones snap in the process as he proceeded to collapse to the desolate forest floor with only the slightest of grunts. His arms, while battered, bruised, and broken (his left arm at least), could still function to a degree and he pulled himself up into a sitting position, his spine alight with pain with even the slightest movement of his body, but he powered on through and managed to lean himself back up against a nearby tree that had not yet been torn away or burnt to ash by the destruction they had wrought. It was beautiful in a way, the chaos and destruction they had created to destroy what nature had taken unfathomable years to conceive. Perhaps it was the overwhelming cacophony of pain that was his existence or that he genuinely found the whole thing humorous, he began to laugh a low, haunting and guttural chuckle that resonated across the forest like a specter wailing over its own tomb.

To be quite fair, it had been so long since he had met a capable opponent on the battlefield, even before he had been killed he hadn't been beaten to such a degree except during the time of the Old Empire. For some strange reason it felt good to be laid low in such a manner, the pain made him feel more alive than ever, and he was closer to the Dark Side of the Force because of it. Perhaps he should thank Siobhan for her contributions, but he felt that such a congratulations wouldn't be well received by the Butcher of Gehenna. So instead he let out a long-winded groan and sent out a telepathic ping to those of he could sense that were of his loyalty, alerting them to his position and his condition. He suspected Siobhan was in or around the same condition as he was, they did a pretty number on both of them, and Vornskr was woefully ill-equipped to fight a telekinetic master such as her. Next time he fought on a Mandalorian world he would have to prepare for another Sio encounter, if he was ever fortunate enough to have himself be thrown around like a rag doll in a blender.

They would come for him, his black-armored sentinels of war, med-pacs deployed and a stretched extended to carry the bloodied body of their Lord away from the pyre that had begun to wildly consume the forest in an ever expanding hunger. He saw the glowing flames of hell, watched as the Scepter of Power returned to it's master to coil around his waist, and then the blackness blanketed everything.

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

Location: Jungle
Objective: Rumble in the jungle
Allies: Mandalorians
Enemies: [member="Darth Vornskr"], Primeval
Gear: 1x MKI bolter (lost gun, still got the ammo), 1x bolt pistol, 1x sonic shotgun, wrist-worn flamethrower, vibroknife, grenades, lightsabre (lost), beskar'gam


There was desolation, destruction and fire everywhere. Through their titanic might, the forest had been put to the torch. Even though neither of them was driving it anymore, the flaming tornado still raged, bathing what was left of the forest in flames. Undoubtedly eventually nature would arise again, as she always did, but today it was death that reigned. Doubtless the Lords of Chaos were watching from the depths of hell and rejoicing at the carnage that had been wrought in their name. Siobhan rolled across the ground, managing to avoid another tree that had given way and collapsed.


She managed to pull herself up with a deep grunt, though her body ached with every motion she made, and leaned against the broken tree. Fortunately it was not burning because being set on fire again would have probably been a very unpleasant experience for her. Even the slightest movement of her body caused a sensation of pain and her head was throbbing with a terrible headache from hell. Leaving aside the fact that she was in pain due to the injuries she had suffered in combat against the Dark Master, there was also her body was now reminding her of how much she had exerted herself. See, she could not toss around massive shockwaves and bring forth flaming tornadoes without it taking a toll. Her remaining eye looked upon where her bionic hand had once been, her flesh hand clenched tightly as she leaned against the broken tree. She coughed and her remaining eye flashed a crimson that was bright as the fires.


She could still sense Vornsrkr somewhere in the distance, though she was too tired to make an attempt to actually pinpoint his location. She suspected that he was not equipped for another round, but then neither was she. So here she stood, not victorious, but also not defeated. She had held her ground and given the Sith Lord a good beating, though a definite victory had eluded her. Oh, and she had lost some body parts. She imagined that [member="Mia Monroe"] and Tegaea would be...pissed! Her flesh hand clenched tightly. Next time I'm in hospital, I'm going completely organic, she decided once she was able to muster a coherent thought. Perhaps investing some training in lightsabre combat might also be a good idea. Still, even though her body protested violently and pained her greatly, a part of her could not help feel a sense of grim satisfaction. Combat invigorated her, animated her in a way she could not deny, even after all these years. They would fight again, she was sure of this. Maybe not in this war, but in another.


Eventually, after she relayed a call, her own minions would come for her, probably at the same time as the black-armoured sentinels arrived for the Butcher of Togoria. A dropship bearing Firemane soldiers, deploying med-pacs and a stretcher to take their Lady away from the hellfire that was devouring the forest in a fiery outburst. "Goddess, you stupid, brave, foolish human," she could hear the words of Eileithya Saedaris, Priestess of the Goddess Ashira, chide her, her firemane glowing so brightly whilst the forest was wreathed in flames. These were the last things Siobhan heard before she fell into unconsciousness and dove into the realm of Morpheus.

 

[Darth Vazela]

Location: Jungle
Objective: Rumble in the jungle
Allies: Primeval
Enemies: Darth Vornskr, Siobhan Kerrigan

| [member="Darth Vornskr"] | [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] |

The Ghost of Almania had come when the two had decided that their battle was over; and with vengeance in mind, the Dark Master found Darth Vornskr and Siobhan Kerrigan wanting. Parting the flames with his pull on the dark side, the Force flowed through his palms to allow him to move past the fire that blocked his way and out into the vicinity where both Sith Lord and Dark Jedi attempted to flee.

Summoning Force Lightning into his palms, Vilox Pazela unleashed his powers of the dark side on the transports that trying to get away. What was his reasons? Those were easy to understand.

Darth Vornskr defied him when he was set to become the Dark Lord of the Sith on Prakith.

Siobhan Kerriban stood on the side of the Mandalorians, thus she defied the Primeval that Vilox Pazela now served.

He would have his vengeance on the Sith and then he would finish what Vornskr could not on the destroyer of worlds.

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Objective: A - Destroy the shield generator
Location: On the approach to Fort Monroe
Allies: [member="Anja Aj'Rou"], [member="Keira Ticon"], [member="The Dark Man"], [member="Ue-‘Kuo-‘Koe’c’cu-Eou"], [member="Mard Szaks"], [member="Cordelia deWinter"]
Enemies: [member="Olivia Dem'adas"], [member="Arrbi Betna"], [member="Draco Vereen"], [member="Zathra Fett"], [member="Gilamar Skirata"]
Gear: Ghost Sniper Rifle, Blaster Pistol, Vibroknucklers, Lightsaber, Primeval Light Armor

Spoiler: NPC Unit

Unit: Primeval Golden Banner 5th

Spoiler: NPC Unit

Strength: 120 84 troops + 20 14 MIFVs
Objective: The Seige of Fort Monroe
Location: Primeval landing zone, outside Fort Monroe
Controller: [member="Boo Chiyo"]

Think back to when you were 11 years old.

Most 11 year olds pretended to be teenagers and still acted like children. They'd make up stories about kissing a popular girl or seeing a Gunganlicious concert (without their parents), when in reality they'd been playing in the backyard or watching an animated holo -- like the Adventures of Jono Jawa series.

Maybe that was where the distinction was. Maybe that was the start of a series of unfortunate events. Maybe everything about his being there could be summed up with the fact that Boo didn't have parents. Not now. Not for a long time. He'd had a gang of street youths that had sheltered him for awhile, or tolerated him at the very least, for as long as he would steal for them. He had to be 'value added' to the group. He had to prove his worth, going out into the streets of Coruscant to pickpocket and steal in order to prove his right to be part of their gang.

When he'd stolen from a Sith Lord, he'd wound up in what was, perhaps, an even worse situation. Now, the stakes were elevated. No longer was it enough to merely steal, he had to be willing to kill. To touch the Dark Side of the Force and not flinch or look away. He was allowed to live for so long as he was 'value added' to the Sith, but now it came with the understanding that he was going to die. To choice left to him was the choice he was given when the Sith Lord had first caught up to him -- did he want to die today or tomorrow? It was the quintessential facet of their relationship, the knowledge that this man was taking care of him and would kill him. It wasn't personal, it was business. The first rule of assassination was to kill the assassin.

Street rat. Thief. Assassin. Murderer.

We wear so many titles in our time, but never so many as the young Pantoran had accrued in so short a season as his life to then. If he was a child, he would have died a long time ago. Instead, he was where no child belonged, the widowing fields of Wayland. Rockets to the right of him, fires to the left. The Mandalorians would kill him if he took another step forward, and the Primeval would kill him if he took a step back.

Somewhere in the middle was an 11 year old boy who hoped that, in death, he might be more important than he was in life. Somewhere inside that MIFV was a boy, frightened and alone, and finding that he had spent the whole of his life in places such as this. Starving in the ghettos of Coruscant, or bleeding on the road to Fort Monroe -- at play in the fields of the Host Lord.

A shell bursting behind the vehicle that the boy had sought shelter inside sent the youth to his knees as the tremors tore through the durasteel. Clinging to the sides of the vehicle, the youth tried to steady himself. On his knees, the child's amber eyes were wide with a mixture of exhilaration and fear. The sense of his own mortality was pervasive. Perhaps in the next moment, he would go to meet the god Balagoth. There was hope and despair in that. Breathing into the cracked helmet, a fog of his own breath began to form on the broken glass of his visor. He could feel his heart pounding, as though it were in his ears.

He was dead inside, and yet had never felt so alive.

Closing his eyes, the boy silently prayed. He wasn't even sure just what he was praying for. Victory? Death? Some release from the train wreck of 11 years that had somehow become normal to him?

To live is Primeval, and to die is gain.

As he opened his eyes and looked forward again, the boy saw a soldier consumed in the explosion of a mine upon the field. The kinetic force from the bomb and resulting shrapnel took out another two soldiers nearby. An MIFV rolling over an explosive was flipped upright, before crashing down on top of dragon teeth and razor wire, where the tank burned from internal fires.

They say that death by fire is the purest death.

Rising to his feet, the small youth looked over at one of operators near him. "Do we have any rockets left?"

"Two launchers remain."

"Fire them," the boy said, as he turned to glance at a screen with a static-filled image of the battlefield. At random, the boy leveled a finger at a point on the map denoting one of the enemy tanks ahead, shelling the vehicles as they continued the treacherous approach to the fort. "Fire them all, here."

Spoiler: Summary of Actions

- 9 MIFVs remaining (5 destroyed)
- 68 troops remaining (16 KIA)
- Napalm rockets (18x2=36 total) targeting [member="Olivia Dem'adas"]'s tank

 

[Anastasia Rade]

Location: Wayland; Jungles
Objective: B
Allies: Mando's
Enemies: [member="Kiran Vess"]
Gear:

Spoiler

armor, lightsaber, http://starwarsrp.net/topic/10961-mandalorian-ripper-mk-ii/

She could almost smile as she saw the plain look of shock on his face. The fire was a little trick that Ana had learned from the Witches when she had studied there for a time. It hadn't been too long after that she went to a temple for training. This ability she found could translate into an ability without all the hocus pocus Magic stuff.

Pyro wasn't something she used often especially in a forest where she considered trees to be a thing of beauty. There was that plus she really didn't want to cause a fire which could easily occur with such a testy ability.

Instead of planning her next attack she was too busy watching her little fire balls work their magic. Ana also was trying to regain some of her energy as Pyro like healing could take a lot out of her. She didn't want him to know that.

His bullets connected with the the last huge fireball causing it to disperse into several pieces going in different directions even back at her. A few even managed to get into the big crack in her helmet causing her to wince in pain. Her past if it had taught her anything was not to cry or show any sign of weakness. It hurt though and she knew it would leave a mark.

A few sparks also had found their ways in the trees behind Ana and to the side setting them a blaze. The fire was small and up high so at the moment she wasn't worried. It would work itself out.

Pulling her blaster out Ana pointed it directly at him before firing off two shots. This weapon was one in which she liked better than the saber.

 

[Kurt Meyer]

Location: B, Jungles
Allies: Primeval, [member="Laguz Vald"] (On Communicator)
Enemies: [member="Anastasia Rade"]
Gear: Signature

One of the shots went wide, not accounting for Kiran beginning a new sprint at the woman. The other hit home, slamming into his gut and singing away at the Asheran Armorweave. He grunted hard, knowing that the blast would leave a massive bruise on his stomach and knowing that the armorweave on his gut was now completely useless.

A rage started to boil within him, matching the flames now burning about them.

Pheromones would begin to spread all about him, sense of darkness, danger, a loose and wild rage that would spread into the air in a whirlwind of emotion. This was his gift, his talent as a zeltron. The wave of rolling emotions would be similar to that of a berserker, working those around him into a frenzy.

He charged at the woman, moving as fast as he could.

Once more he pulled the trigger, then leaped into a tackle, hopefully knocking the woman off her feet and onto the ground.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Objective: Fight.
Allies: None.
Enemies: Spencer Jacobs
Location: dude who cares
gear: preliat's armor, his m45, his beskad and tomahawk, and his westar-34s, i ain't posting it again because this is lame af


He felt it first- a sensation behind his navel. He was dragged violently, missing his shot on [member="Lord Daemos"]. And soon, he was face to face with [member="Spencer Jacobs"]. He had no idea who she was, or what she wanted- but she challenged him. So he stood, tall and proud, and he reached up to his helmet, and slid it off his head. He let it fall to the floor, the heavy Beskar'kandar slamming to the soft jungle floor with a heavy thud. Preliat's eyes danced over Spencer, and he reached to the small of his back. He slid off his tomahawk, twirling the heavy beskar-made blade. He cracked his crushgaunt adorned knuckles, and stared at his opponent.


"Do you know who I am?"

 

[Azrael Asura]

LOCATION: Jungle
OBJECTIVE: Kill the Iron Beast
ALLIES: Primeval {None nearby}
ENEMIES: Mandalorians {The other [member=Azrael]}
GEAR: Two lightclubs, two regular lightsabers, PAR-1 Bullpup Assault Rifle, Primeval Battle Armour

<WARNING: SLOW POSTER>​

Azrael had grown up on Dathomir, deep beneath the ground, living amongst the royals of his species. Those who taught him did not forget to tell him of the Mandalorians. How could they? His kind had a respect for the honorable warriors. A sort of... admiration. In the past a few had even ridden to war with the famous crusaders. And yet there stories had done little to prepare the De'Nochsax for this fight. Even if he had come with more armor or with better weapons... could he have managed to do more than he was? Try as he may, things were quickly going downhill. Still he could not give up. Doing so wouldn't only wound his honor, it would be an insult to the man he fought against. Whoever the soldier was he deserved more than a two-minute 'brawl'. If the reptile was going to go down he was going to go down hard. As hard as he possibly could, with as much chaos as he could create, and as much damage he could possibly dish out. They were at war. Letting himself fall easily would practically be treason. At least in the eyes of the Primeval- and of their Gods. There were only a few things he could do to his opponent that wouldn't harm his own position within his government. Azrael took a single moment to try to speak into the mind of the Mando, using the telepathy his kind were known for.

"Gar akaanir pirusti, verd." You fight well, soldier.

No time was given for him to add anything to the sentence. Shots were fired, sent rushing towards the beast, and as the aru'e had expected, Azrael was unable to dodge every blast. One bolt lodged itself into his armor while another scraped across his scaled neck. The third of that group's shots slammed into a tree. For a moment the behemoth thought that was all of that round of fire. Of course he thought wrong. Another group of bolts crashed into an outcropping. Did he intend to do that? It was a question that made him think... then nearly screech in frustration. Incendiary rounds. As fast as he could he tried to reach up to remove the metal from his neck. But he was nowhere near fast enough. To his right the third, fourth, and fifth rounds went off, sending debris and dirt into the air. Meanwhile the piece on his back exploded, tearing through part of his armor, along with successfully damaging most, if not all, of one of his hands. Unable to stop himself the beast let out a tremendous roar, his jaw clacking together, releasing a high-pitched screech. Whether it was because of instinct or a split-second decision his telepathy (something even his non-force-sensitive cousins had access to) sent out an equally loud, equally pitched whine, spreading out to everything his mind could reach.

Fueled by adrenaline the monster wondered if his cry of pain had distracted his foe at all. That was possible, considering the volume. As he moved he realized he had a chance to turn the tide, if only for a moment or two. In a fight like this... even a second of chance was enough to make a difference. So Azrael struck out with his five good hands, trying to push over as many trees as he could, each one being cracked or sliced in a way that would make it fall backwards, towards the Mandalorin and his iron beast. If he fell enough of them he could potentially topple the machine or at least slow it down. Maybe, if he was extremely lucky, a branch or chunk of wood would knock his foe off his ride. Hoping for the best he kept going, still toppling trees, changing up his movement pattern, ignoring the growing pain in his mangled hand. Something told him that he'd never be able to use it again. At least not without very good care very soon. And out here, in a seemingly endless forest, he didn't think he had a good chance of meeting the right ally. Not quick enough. Not while a terrifying warrior bit at his heels.

He was alone.

 

[Rhodessa]

Objective: Defend the Base
Location: Fort Monroe;
Allies: [member="Olivia Dem'adas"]
Enemies: [member="Anja Aj'Rou"] [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"]

Gear: rail gun, Hyperion combat armour
Vehicle: Beskad Starfighter

Unit: Bes'uliike Traat'aliite
Strength: (12x Bes'uliik Starfighters)
Objective: Defending Fort Monroe
Location: In the Air sitting pretty compared to mud slings on the ground
Controller: Rhodessa

The enemy had started to come out the jungle, roughly three hundred of them. They were hoping to overrun the fort, weirdly not one of them had been paying attention to birds in sky, who have there five. She smiled as the squadron command gave the order, All fighters prepare to strafe and bomb the enemy, only use one flame carpet warhead each. These are your marker points, program them to hit that sector only! She then programmed her torpedo to hit it's mark, and then waited for his mark to dive. Not long after it came she was kill something probably a lot of things, All fighters ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK. She then began her descent towards the primeval line, she was coming in quick and at steep angle of attack. As the approached, she let her warhead was launch and soon after there was twelve explosions ripped up the ground, and those who were unfortunately enough to be around these deadly accurate weapons. Then she leveled off at the dazed enemy and, and then strafed them using her two repeating mass cannons. The whole squadron kept ot flight formation, thanks to sheer mandalorian nerve, well that and boasting rights over foot sloggers later. As the reached the end of the enemy line they pulled up, and began to circle over head again. The strafing run was done out of range of there weapons, fortunately they did not seem to have any aa weapons on them.

 

[Chaos Maxtor]

[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Location: 150 Mt. Tantiss Ruins[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Objective: Maze Runner Objective 3/C[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Allies: [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Nandiach_Ankah[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] | [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Graad Hokan[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] | [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Darth Wyrrlok VI[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] | [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Verz Horak[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] | [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Briika Detta[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] | | [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px]A'den Shereshoy[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Enemies: [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Laguz Vald[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] | [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Ebenezer[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] | [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Jun Nez[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] | [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Token Waters[/SIZE]
Gear: See Bio



[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Elgyn passed out the thermal detonators sized balls to the twelve mercenaries, a class of person Elgyn could [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666669845581px]empathize[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] with. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px]“Well to be honest with you, Threm, these little things won't barbecue[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] the guys who need to be mad dead, but the MDD-1 will sure confuse the heck out of em” El said with a smile. “You know, I like a good [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666669845581px]barbecue[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px]. In fact, there is nothing like a good ewok steak grilled on open flame. “[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] The small sound of muttering caused Elgyn’s eyes to roll. He was about to turn around and look toward the targeted phrick mine when one of the mercs asked "You eat ewoks?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]“Sure, who wouldnt?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]“Well...nobody normal really”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Elgyn cocked his head in obvious befuddlement. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px]“It’s a fine lean meat though!. Well sure, I know it’s hyper expensive and rare but it is worth the go if you have the buck to spare...err credit to spare.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]More muttering before a different mercenary spoke up. “They are sentient. They wear clothing and carry weapons. They even speak.”Elgyn paused for only a moment. His hastened reflection on his past atrocities reached an odd [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] conclusion: he would think about it later. This small army of mercenaries would grow far in the laid plans. And then a spark of thought shocked his mind and he slapped his forehead.[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] “I forgot. Man, my narrator could have ran into a lot of trouble there, he could have broken the rules of the role play”[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] he explained focusing on each of the MDD-1 clipped to vests and weapon belts. and with a shrug Elgyn through his hands into the air and each of the miniature droids exploded with the power of the Force and fueled by the small power packs that powered them. It was the definition of a bloody mess. The act caused a tiny shudder of something [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666669845581px]that[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] could be only described as dread to trickle on his soul. He was suddenly very fascinated with the something in or further north of the [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666669845581px]mine[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] or passed the mine. Something that felt dark. Elgyn never possessed a grand ability in sensing things from afar.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]With a melancholy sigh the former mercenary brushed his long blonde hair out if his eyes, it tickled his nose.. He the drew his unused left hand under his chin in a [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666669845581px]fist[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] and closed his eyes. A second passed as he cleared his mind and an echo was sent through the Force. I am close to the mine. The echo was a call to[/SIZE] [SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Anija Ordo[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] .[/SIZE]

 

[Armand Temi]

Objective: B
Location: The jungle
Allies: None
Enemies: [member="Strider Garon"] in a 1 vs. 1 duel
Gear: Chain-sickle, Primeval Advanced Agent Tactical Armor, Lightsaber

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hP2YydjRRUk&ab_channel=chintalalan[/youtube]​

The soft wind, Perla had conjured seemed to be affecting everything around her Mandalorian opponent. It whistled through the trees - the ones that were left standing - rustling leaves and branches. But surrounding the Beskar'gam-clad warrior, there was nothing. No movement. Her magic was definitely not working on him.

He had his rifle drawn and while Perla knew she could deflect the blaster bolts, she was hesitant as well about getting too close. He threatened to "make the distance," so she may not have a choice in the next few minutes.

Perla increased the wind speed slightly around her so she could flatten the grass. She spied her chain-sickle and pulled it to her hand with Telekinesis. Now she wielded both weapons, but the long scythe whip would require both of her hands in order to get a really good swing at him. She de-ignited the saber and let it drop to the ground. Perla crouched at the knees and placed one hand on the bottom of the chain sickle shaft and the other hand at the top. With her strong, toned arms she began to swing it around in a circle above her.

"I'm holding still," the witch said in a low, raspy voice.

"Now keep your promise and come to me," she taunted.