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As Elgyn traveled with the other vode he felt tiny quakes echoing in the Force. Dark quakes that felt comforting, familiar and living. It must have seemed as if he was staring out into space as they stopped off at the lift. There he reached out and touched one of the dark echos to see what would happen. If the cause of the echos were [member="Arumi Zy"] , the galaxy had just become a better place. El had little gift in telepathy, a shi’ido’s natural ability to stay anonymous had perhaps crippled him instinctual. But he could sent out a beacon,, an emotion, and sometimes a memory.
< "Perhaps we should not all get in one lift… Just in case," >
Elgyn smiled.
“Well, you know what they say...” Elgyn piped up slinking into the lift next to Briika with a sliding foot. “...women and children first” The shi’ido slipped his thumbs into his weapon harness as though they were suspenders and rocked back and forth from heel to toe and then stopped as though he was thinking. Slowly turning his head to Briika he asked with a raised eyebrow ”You're not on a high protein diet are you?”
Tree. Tree and more Trees. Kezeroths face was as stone as he flew past the scenery that was the Wayland jungle. It was a rather bland sight alone but the invasion did bring some flavor to the planet. Whatever the Gen'dai was sensing had a hold on him and he was in fact prepared to go further than he usally went in combat. Looking down below Kezeroth smirked slightly as he neared the main base which from what he could see was being attacked by many vehicles and primeval soldiers. Scanning the area more his smirk expanded to a chuckle as he watched the action of mandalorian tanks engage in combat. The Roar of fire and flames ceased and the armored brute began his decent into the outer Jungles. Looking to feed off the Darkside more Kezeroth closed his eyes as he fell and focused on the war and chaos of the planet. It fueled him and gave him strength the more he gave himself to it. Consume Essence.
Nearing the ground the armored brute opened his eyes and fired off his grav boots to slow his landing... It did not help much. The dirt cratered and the ground shook lightly on impact with his foot and knee, Rising up slowly he growled and began to sprint through the Jungle toward the Outer layer of the base. Toward the enemies vehicles straight into the action! Gaining some momentum his charge began to get dangerous for those around him and his self. There were no brakes after all only a crash into a wall or primeval tank.
Knocking over small trees and making small leaps over the ones that had already been knocked down would 100% get him some attention. His gear rattled and jerked about as he ran along with his armor as well. The Edge of the jungle was nearing and so Kezeroth began to laugh with a sick joy as he rushed in from behind at the small army [member="Ka-Aver"].
Strength:42 5 troops + 5 1 MIFVs Objective: The Seige of Fort Monroe Location:Courtyard, approaching outer wall of Fort Monroe Controller: [member="Boo Chiyo"]
An artillery shell exploded alongside the vehicle.
Careening to one side, the occupants of the vehicle were caught unprepared as the force of the explosion tipped the MIFV up on one side. Continuing forward, the tank-like light vehicle began weaving precariously as it came back down. Armor plating and tank treads began peeling away, as the vehicle sagged as it's entire left side was now bare axles dragging in the dirt. Turrned into a circle, the Pantoran look up at the driver struggling to try and control the disabled tank.
"Get us to that wall!" the boy yelled.
"She can't, we've got no control," the man shouted hoarsely in retort.
The boy looked down to the floor for a moment, racking his brain as he wrestled with the thought of grinding to a halt there - not even a hundred meters from the goal. They could make a run for it, but in the middle of that open courtyard there was naught but a widowing field. "Jump," the youth mused aloud, speaking the first thought that popped into his head as though testing how it sounded.
At the moment, it was all he had. So they were going with it. Craning his head back up, the boy shouted "Jump jets."
"But..."
"Do it!"
The boy was dropped to his knees a second later, as the MIFV became airborne. The gap between them and the hole blasted into the side of the base disappeared, while the fort itself was growing larger by the millisecond. "BRAKE!" the youth demanded, his voice breaking with the sudden realization of what was about to happen.
"We ain't got no brake, she'buy'ce!"
He probably deserved that.
The vehicle came to a halt with a front-end collision with a Mandalorian base, coming to a final rest just a few feet from where Mard's MIFV continued to burn and smolder. Rattled, disoriented, and bruised, the boy stood on his knees as he tried to take stock of the situation. A soldier sagged against the side of the tank, blood dripping from out of a crack in his helmet visor. Looking at the remaining handful of Primeval that were with him, the boy motioned to the hole in the fort wall.
"To the Host Lord," he called, making a gesture with one hand for the soldiers to disembark. "Move, move move!"
The driver came down from the controls, looking at the boy as though uncertain of what to do. "I'm an engineer, not a soldier," the man remarked finally.
Without a word, the blue-skinned youth turned toward the armored corpse lying against the side of the tank. Pulling the man's blaster up from out of his cold, dead hands, the boy held the weapon out for the engineer as he raised his voice and said, "Welcome to Wayland."
Pushing the weapon into the man's hands, the boy slung his sniper rifle from off his shoulder. The casing looked to have become cracked from all the rattling around. "-tt-" the boy uttered, with a click of his tongue. Discarding the rifle, the youth pulled his own blaster pistol out from the holster and began charging up a bolt. Looking at up at the bewildered engineer, the boy said only, "You wanna live? You might wanna become a soldier real quick, mister."
And then the boy was off. Boots pounding against the durasteel and ground as he bolted for the hole on the heels of the only other four men to have made it this far alive.
He'd had well over 200 when this day began.
Only Balagoth knew if any of them were leaving Wayland alive.
- 0 MIFVs remaining
- 4 troops remaining (1 KIA)
- 1 crew/engineer remaining (2 KIA)
- Entered outer wall of Fort Monroe, following Anja Aj'Rou and Mark Szarks
Objective: A - Destroy the generator
Location: Just inside the base
Allies: The Primeval | @[member=Anja Aj'Rou] @[member=Keira Ticon] @[member=Boo Chiyo] @[member=The Dark Man] @[member=Ue-‘Kuo-‘Koe’c’cu-Eou] @[member=Zambrano the Hutt]
Enemies: The Mandalorians | @[member=Olivia Dem'adas] @[member=Draco Vereen] @[member=Arrbi Betna] [member="Anyone Else"] at A
Gear: LL-Interchangeable Weapons System | Advanced Agent Tactical Armour | BTI-WB "Woebringer" Heavy Blaster Pistol | 4 EMP Grenades | Vibroblade
Unit:Primeval Golden Banner 5th
Strength: 120 troops + 20 1 MIFV
Objective: The Siege of Fort Monroe
Location: Just inside the base
Controller: Mard Szaks
Unthinking, Mard grabbed the offered hand, and finally squeezed through the gap in the armour. When he noticed that he had grabbed the hand of their enlightened leader, he became flustered, surprised at his own unthinking action. Blushing somewhat, he stammered out:
"I... didn't. I'm sorry, your Excellency."
Then, Mard continued to survey the corridor they were inside. He had to put aside his surprise, if they were to have any success inside of the base. No enemies were in sight right now, but that could change very quickly. They had broken in, but certainly not unnoticed. Broken in where? The corridor led two ways, and the hangar was located to the right. They had to lose themselves in the base, to avoid the troops certainly waiting for them inside. Get off the expected path to take.
"We should move left, your Excellency."
With that, he awaited confirmation from the Host Lord at his side. He would not presume to challenge her authority by moving ahead on his own, when the decision clearly had to be made by this enlightened prophet. He could almost feel her presence changing the air all around them, strengthening his resolve.
Obviously, they had to find out where their target, the generator, was exactly - to that aim, Mard observed their surroundings in search of a clue. No obvious ones presented themselves, but he was sure there would be something once they got to a junction, or elevator shaft. He knew military bases well enough to tell.
Hopefully, they would be able to evade any pursuit for the nearest time. He did not enjoy the thought of being shot at in tight quarters. Being responsible for the safety of the Host Lord did not sit well with him either. He was happy to serve, happy to put his life down for her... Yet he would have preferred less responsibility. In any case, she was certainly a magnificent warrior, even if it was only proven by the fact that she had survived until this point. He would not fail her.
Location: Provoking Constructive Carnage at the back lines of his latest Terror Runner Unit. 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"], [member="Draco Vereen"], [member="Zathra Fett"], [member="Rhodessa"], @Anybody else I'm missing Gear: Hover Throne, Dalek Hands, Vaapad Familiar, The Awe and Fear of the Meek and Vulnerable
Strength: 0/150, 450 K.I.A. Wave: 3 Objective: A Location: Frozen in the ashes of a desolated minefield/obstacle course, surrounded by burning flame. Controller: Zambrano the Hutt
This was not going to be a long drawn out strategy, where a play by play is recapped of every single action taken by the "wildfire" of spreading Terror Runners sprinting directly into their own peril. This was going to be short, and sweet. A few moments where dozens upon dozens of individuals, who might have had at one point in their lives a future, throw themselves almost mindlessly into death's door to escape a horror of horrors... that was... in actuality... not quite worthy of such absolute suicidal dread.
Zambrano was awful and all... and would probably kill at a moments notice for no other reason than he caught a whimsy that told him to do so... but was it truly... actually... really worth it to take your own life by running into the abyssal flames of hell and torment in order to escape the villainy that the Hutt positively exuded from his sheer presence? For these persons... the answer was absolutely, irrevocably, yes.
He was a monster, that none of them had ever even gotten the chance to have nightmares about... a waking terror that emptied your bowels upon his very approach, his touch spelling pain or death in equal measure with the same amount of pleasure gained for him as merely being alive. Around him... you were nothing. Absolutely nothing. You weren't even dirt. You were the space in between the dirt. The fine granules of particles that very nearly didn't exist next to the gargantuan size of Zambrano the Hutt. Behind those eyes... it was pure, twisted, unadulterated evil in every capacity imaginable... a sick mind innocent to the idea that there was anything in the world beyond his heinous desires.
The palpable fear, was drove them to chose fire over the glare of his red carnivorous eyes... allowing them to detonate within meters of entering the inferno, and freezing over the lesser hell in 6 meter diameters of carbonite. One hundred fifty people repeated this hopeless charge, some in groups, some not, but all in all they all cut through the devastation like a knife blade laying down butter upon the softened ground... where no imperfection such as mines or concrete could have survived under the heat of friendly fire. In moments, a clear path began to present itself... all the way to the shielded bunkers where few men had survived the perilous airstrike.
All the slave that were gunned down by whatever remained of the bunker defenders that weren't locked inside their particle field protected bunkers, only helped to further die out the flames that had impeded progress. A more or less straight line of nearly 400-500 meters of de-mined, obstacle-destroyed, partially defended, slightly burning, mostly carbonite path was now present from the tree line to the bunkers for any subsequent waves of charging infantry soldiers.
Zambrano the Hutt resided far behind, feeding his hands to a slave that he had caught... while the Directory scrounged around for resources, in order to raise up the next wave of terror upon the Mandalorian base.
Crunching noises from behind him let him know that his strikes were not in vain. That meant that his injury was acceptable. He had taken his pain and turned it into something to help him. 'Twas something that his kin would have been proud of. And that made everything feel worth it. I will take home much glory tonight. For my nest-mates! For my ancestors! For the Gods! With another rush of adrenaline the cold-blooded reptile dashed to his left, then his right, then finally he turned to skid to the side. Plenty of trees had been knocked over in his assault. Now there was far less to cover him from his enemy. If he hadn't done as much damage as he had... well, he probably would have turned to see more bolts rushing towards his face. Instead he was met with the usual blurry vision. Oh, plus, you know, what looked like a missile heading towards him. Well. That seemed like something he should take care of. Normally Asura would use the force to pull the projectile off track or get it to explode early. However he wasn't sure if his attempts to avoid the forcebreaker gas (as in holding his breath for a bit) earlier had been successful. Surely they had traveled far enough away that it wasn't an issue anymore? Perhaps it was best he try to do something.
Once again he dashed to the right (his foe's left) in an attempt to get away from the missile. Yet the device made a turn to go after him. Could it be a heat-seeker? Yes, that seemed likely. But how was it tracking him? De'Nochsax were cold-blooded reptiles. His heat signature- oh. Earlier in the fight there had been several explosions, including one right against him. That had warmed his body up enough for it to be visibly different from the environment. NOT GOOD. Mr. Angry Lizard tried to use the force to boost his speed enough for a sharp turn. Perhaps he would be able to confuse the targeting system. Quickly the reptile rounded a tree, only for the missile to cut the corner. Chite! In a surprising feat of 'acrobatics' he cut one more tree down before taking a leap up and forward. The tree and it's large branches crashed against the projectile. If the sound of a blast hadn't let him know he had succeeded, the shrapnel thrown everywhere surely did. Wood chips mixed with metal shot out in multiple directions with plenty of force. Some pieces struck against Azrael's armor while some bits tore into the surrounding area. One particularly nasty bit chipped one of his horns... and cut into the back of his head, easily breaking multiple scales.
This time his yelp was far quieter.
But the growl that followed was far less so. 'Twas a loud, angry roar, one let out more by instinct than anything else. Irritation at seeing another missile fueled the outburst almost as much as the pain he felt did. Another? I shall not play this game. Now sure of his semi-stable connection to the force the lizard decided it was time to get the Mandalorian off his ride. While still moving away from the device he worked on conjuring up flames within his free hand. Feeling it near his ruined hand made him want to bend over in pain. Instead he let out another screech, sending the fireball towards the speeding projectile. Seeing as the warmth of his hide was fading the missile would surely go after the flames instead. Which, if things went as Azrael was sure they would, would mean that he had control over the destination. What did he do then? Well, that part was simple, he curved the flame so it lead the device right towards the iron beast his foe rode. Unfortunately it also set a bit of things alight as it passed. Maybe the missile would detonate early. Or maybe they'd just be surrounded by a bunch of flaming trees in thirty seconds. Oops.
Gear: Olivia Dem'adas wore simple, light Beskar'gam.It was the standard for her clan's officers, naval crew, and operators. A simple Beskar armorweave was worked into a uniform, beskar and leather boots were applied to the feet, and thin plates of Beskar were added to key locations around the chest, arms, and legs. Over this, her dress uniform's jacket was worn. It was not the invulnerable class 8 armor that her vod wore into battle, but it was all she needed. She was armed with a Tenloss Model 9-type 11 sidearm and a beskad saber on either side of her waste. Vehicle: Myrkava-C
NPC Template
Unit: Clan Dem'adas Marine Company, Myrkava Tanks Strength: 250 Marines, 15 tanks Objective: Defending Fort Monroe Location: 110 Marines are defending main building, all others are with the Tanks and deployed along roads just inside of the perimeter fence. Controller: Olivia Dem'adas
As the Vehicles driven by [member="Boo Chiyo"] and [member="Mard Szaks"] raced along the several hundred meters of roadway separating them from the base, all hell broke loose. "Engage targets!" Oliva called out over the company-wide frequency. Six tanks fired over her head as 140mm mass-driver rounds loaded with AP, HEAT, and HESH rounds were hurled at the two lightly armored vehicles as they traveled down the open, exposed roadway. Olivia watched as the massive 16" Railgun of [member="Vilaz Munin"]'s Mythosaur Mobile Fortress also opened up on the vehicles. Each of Olivia's tanks fired four round burst after four round burst of 20mm autocannons into the vehicles as they traveled along the open and exposed roadway. From the other Forcefield Gates, at the ends of two other roads, nine more vehicles opened fire with equal abandon. They focused fire mainly on the front vehicle (driven by [member="Mard Szaks"]). Multiple 140mm mass-driver rounds and dozens of 20mm autocannon rounds raced towards the light, exposed vehicle t as they raced for the base. Each tank launched 4 rounds from the main cannon and no less than 24 20mm rounds at the pair of vehicles. In total, around 360 anti-light vehicle projectiles went down-range towards the two small vehicles as well as 60 massive anti-tank shells. Along with these heavy caliber weapons, a total of 74 Mandalorian Marines opened fire from three separate directions on the two exposed vehicles and the few remaining troops within or around them.
Olivia's eyes caught movement along the side of the building. Three Primeval infiltrators ([member="Flannigan Mcnash"], [member="Cadan Tazi"], [member="Alkah'Kahtel"]) were crouched by an external wall. Even from her current distance, Olivia could see the lightsaber in one of their hands. Olivia smiled. The force nullification bubble effecting the base would keep the force user from connecting to their mystical powerbase. And without that connection, they'd have no means of reacting fast enough to deflect blaster or slugthrower rounds. "Jetti at the walls." Oliva called out. "All infantry, engage." The rhythm of fire paused slightly as the 36 Mandalorian Marines on the far side of the courtyard turned their full attention to the three stooges that had somehow managed to walk through 200 meters of minefield unscathed, in the open, and without any of the hundreds of Mandalorian warriors noticing. From her current position, Olivia almost felt bad for the three of them as they were fired upon by a mixture of River Guns, Hyperion Rifles, BOAR-D Rail Guns, and .32 caliber automatic weapons.
It was at that moment that movement caught her eye. Someone was standing up in the field to the left of the napalm covered doorway. Smoke was drifting up from them in tendrils. <Did they get launched there?> Olivia pondered silently as she looked at the crab-armor wearing [member="Anja Aj'Rou"]. "Platoon one, engage target." Olivia said, as she pulled her pistol and fired at the Primeval in the open. As one, her 20 Marines turned their attention to [member="Anja Aj'Rou"], firing the same mix of weapons that had been leveled against the other three infiltrators. As Olivia fired at [member="Anja Aj'Rou"], she called out to the rest of her Marines. "Platoon four and five." Olivia called out on the company-wide channel. "We have incoming on the base, approaching from your right of the bay door. Spread out and watch for infiltrators." She explained, indicating direction from the point of view that the marines would have.
[member="Anja Aj'Rou"], [member="Mard Szaks"]
Inside the base, 110 Marines had been ready and waiting in the vehicle bay. They were ready to defend the base with their lives. At their chief's orders, they spread out along all corridors that connected to the outer wall of the base. "Contact." One of them reported as the motion tracker of his helmet picked up individuals moving near an apparent breach in the exterior walls of the base. Two dozen of the 110 Marines converged on the location, taking positions along the three corridors that led from the breach to the rest of the base. "Don't be gentile." Olivia said to her marines as she listened in on their communications. "Copy." Came the voice of one of her marines. "Grenades at the ready." The same voice called as each of the two dozen Marines prepared a shock, plasma, or proton grenade. Olivia called up the squad leader's helmet feed as she holstered her pistol. The man's motion tracker showed a 12m range to the target. Two contact icons breached the exterior walls, and 24 Marines were quiet, holding perfectly still as they waited for the order to engage. When the first of them finally entered the open, the order was give. "Engage." the squad commander said. In response, each of the 24 Marines threw a grenade at [member="Anja Aj'Rou"], [member="Mard Szaks"] before returning their hands to the handles of their weapons and opening fire on the pair of Primeval with a mixture of River Guns, Hyperion Rifles, BOAR-D Rail Guns, and .32 caliber automatic weapons. Behind those 24 Marines, 50 more maneuvered into defensive positions further into the hallways.
Strength: Full - 20 [/FONThttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/55207-primeval-mifv/]MIFV + 120 infantry Objective: Causing trouble for any mando reinforcement trying to reach the fort Location: Outside the fort, fort paremeter. Controller: Ka-Aver
As they rushed forth over the field they met little interferance from the tanks who seemed to turn their attention elsewhere for the moment. Ka-Aver could not believe his luck.
"We are gonna take em from behind!" he chuckled into the com and whipped his unit to keep going. Thats when it happened. Somewhere someone opened fire.
"Conta.... *radio interference*...."
"Wuz? Reportz! Reportz!"
He turned the tower he was and spotted a squad of soliders firing franticly, but not at the intended target. No, ametalic beast flew forth into their rear, trashing unloaded infantry soldiers in its wake. "Form rear guard!" Ka-Aver belowed and quickly adjusted his own seat. [member="Kezeroth the Malevolent"] was apparently not getting stopped by the blaster fire. No, this one was something else. Five of the MIFVs turned around moving fast away from the beast. Damn it, their guns were going to hit friendly infantry Ka-Aver realised. But they were getting slaughteed none the less.
Target locked
"Fire!"
The five mass driver tuerrets fired an intensive barrage at [member="Kezeroth the Malevolent"] - some of the infantry would get caught in the fire but there was no question about it. If that beast reached the fort more casualties were bound to happen. Mean while the smaller unit of 15 MISVs unloaded the remaining infantry and move to form a new line, keeping an eye on [member="Olivia Dem'adas"] and her tanks in case they chosed to turn around and attack while Ka-Aver were busy trying to figure out this new threat.
Graad nodded when Briika suggested a second lift. As usualu her insight was spot on and valuable. It was one of several reasons the ver'verd found himself falling in love with the blonde baar'ur. he was about to slip into the lift behind her when another pushed through making a wise crack about woman and children first. Graad smirked under his buy'ce, debating if he should let Briika handle the quip, then came another quip after the man clearly looked her over. This brought about something in Graad he rarely had experienced before, jealousy.
<<<"That must mean those who are an jag file in last, ad'ika,">>>[/i] Graad commented as he stepped into the lift on the other side Briika before he did something stupid and punched the other Mandoalorian right between his armor plates. <<<"Let's just hope your as quick on your feet as you are with your tongue. This is war. Make small talk with your blaster, and if you have anything important to say, use a thermal detonator.">>>
Graad did not need to defend Briika. She could take care of herself, so he would let her. His words were aimed at the childish behavior of the Mando'ad who filed into the lift before him. The button to lower the lift was hit hard, the doors closed, and old gears began to screech as they had not moved in years. Graad was beginning to think the lift idea was bad to begin with at this point, but it was the fastet way to the explosive. Slowly the lift began to descend before it finally picked up some speed. The ride was to be short lived however as the lift suddenly slammed to hault with enough force to send the three passengers to the floor.
Somehow, once again, Graad and Briika found themselves in precarious position. It didn't take long to get back on their feet however, and Graad was already prepping a spot in the floor to get them out. Down was where they were headed, and down was where they were going to go, and in a hury. With a couple of small charges set, Graad motioned for everyone to stand against the back wall. Pressing the detonator, the charges flawed with a bright white light, sounded with a pop, and Graad sized hole was blasted into the floor.
<<<"I'll take point, Briika on my six, and that leaves ad'ika here last.">>>
Graad slipped through and gripped the old cables of the lift mechanism. He began his descent.
Screams of Primeval soldiers sounded as Kezeroth continued through, Blaster fire was deflected off his armor and nothing seemed to affect him. His speed stayed consistent in till the heavier gun came out. The Gen'dai had little time to react and although is mind was telling him to dodge and roll about he wanted to remain still and embrace pain. Coming to a slow Kezeroth examined the Mass Driver Cannons turning to face him and readying to fire away. Before the Order was given Kezeroth noted this moment in his mind and summoned his past memories once more to fuel him and retain consciousness during the assault on him. It was going to hurt like hell.
Raising his arms up and making fists as he came to more of a slow the Gen'dais voice boomed in a roar from his helmet. He was crazy to want this much opposition. Internally pumping himself up to take the hit? Why go this far to stop by the enemy? As the Gen'dai waited in his advanced perception of time his body flooded with adrenaline, body became ready for a blow and his force signature spiked with negative emotions. He Resorted to the darksides most lush ability. Force Rage.
"Fire!" he smirked hearing the command. His eyes flashed a red sinister glow. The Cannons fired with booms equal to the Brutes roar. Flailing about in pain he screamed, grunted and roared in pain and agony during the intense barrage.of gunfire on him. The sheer power behind the shells the Primeval Cannons shot slightly surprised him. Kezeroths CEAS-Final Armor became very weak. The armor in detail had been damaged all over to the point where it was almost for show. Puncture wounds the size of golf balls showed all over his armored body and some shortly showed in his flesh. Due to his very high regeneration factor though those wounds quickly began to heal. With His armor in ruin next his equipment began to take the hits. His Rifle, ammo & armor were trash. All that remained was Bone Crusher which he managed to grab from his back to use in his attack, some armor that covered little of him and his Dark Devil Helmet which was surprisingly undamaged.
Dust Stirred intensely as more and more shells impacted at him and around him. Dust began to stir intensely, like a thick fog it covered all around the behemoth. It gave him room to move around in and from the thick dust two red eyes flashed which was followed by angry growl. Now was his turn to strike! Every pain he felt and currently loved it! Force rage augmented his strength, speed and ferocity. Appearing as a red skinned sluggish blur to untrained eyed Kezeroth quickly moved out of the dust cloud dragging his Power hammer Bone Crusher behind him. He moved as fast as he could to reach the Cannoned shooting at him, after all his rage would last only so long. Strong abilities had to be used in bursts or one would burn up like a paper to a flame. Force Rage was no different.
Rearing the Vehicles attacking him ( [member="Ka-Aver"] ) the Red skinned brute roared and swung his Power hammer Bone Crusher aiming to topple & flip the vehicles as if they were bowling pins. With the repulsor tech in Bone Crusher the task would be rather easy unless these Primeval scams had a trick to pull.
" IS THAT ALL YOU GOT!?!!" he shouted slurring his words, spitting and grunting in pain.
(( OOC Actions: Rushed in --> Gets massively assualted.. by shells --> resorts to Force Rage --> Retaliates and strikes back.))
Objective: Defeat the Mandalorians in the Jungle
Location: Jungle
Allies: Primeval | [member="Bal'gul"]
Enemies: Mandalorians | [member="Muad Dib"] | [member="Garrus Garon"]
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
Having spent such precise thought on skewering his opponent, Damien was more than willing to allow himself to be wounded: but he still attempted to save his arm by jerking it to the side. The result was a severely deep wound that did not travel to long. Feeling the oozing warmth of blood begin to cake his armor, he stepped back, just as Muad began another attack.
Throwing up his best Force Bubble, while remaining perfectly still, Damien watched the energy of the Force Scream bash against his defenses. Wincing for a second from the shock, he did the inevitable and stupid thing: he released his hold on the bubble.
Then Muad rose his hand, and Damien instantly launched into using Force Drain, sucking at the destructive energy that bashed and dented his armor. There was no way to drain all of such an attack, yet he likely saved his life and armor in doing as he did.
When it finally ceased, Damien unclipped the shoulder attachments that held his torso plating together: it fell to the ground with a loud crunch of earth. Gasping for breath, Damien concentrated on the broken bones along his chest. The sternum he healed first, swiftly albeit, thus allowing him to retain some room move. Next, in a generalized motion, he healed the broken ribs, enough to allow him to breathe.
All in all his body was battered and burned, yet whole. His opponent now suffered from a gushing leg, a hole in his chest, a popped lung and a severely diminished energy reserve.
Now, while his opponent attempted to draw a breath, Damien grabbed for his own reserves, combined with the energy from his spirits and that which he collected moments ago from Muads own attack, and then he performed the very same devastating attack his opponent did: Force Destruction. Save he did not raise a hand that would warn his enemy.
Had it not been for the hand he used to point the attack, Muad would have killed Damien. Now Damien sought to do that very thing, by not raising a hand instead focusing it through his mind. For even masters trained years among years in battle, could hardly do much in the situation Muad was in.
Strength: 20 19[/FONThttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/55207-primeval-mifv/]MIFV + 120 114 infantry Objective: Causing trouble for any mando reinforcement trying to reach the fort Location: Outside the fort, fort paremeter. Controller: Ka-Aver
It all turned into a blazing inferno! Just as they thought the creature had gone down it leaped forward and somehow landed behind one of the MIFVs. Its turret turned rapidly to counter this move but it was too late. With unnatural strength, and that cursed hammer he flipped the vehicle, with a groaning squeek, unto its roof. Ka-Aver could hear the crew shout and pray for their lives just before the second punch hammered down upon it. A small explossion turned the shouting turned into death fearing screams as fire engulfed them.
Meanwhile a formation of three infantry squads formed a firing line about 30 meters away. Theie Sergeant issuing simultanous firing, toppled with two grenades being tossed toward him.
"Keep the vehiclez moving!" Ka-Aver roared over the com. "Dont let him reach youz! Uze zpeed and keep firing!" the canons sounded with firm rythmic booms as the MIFVs started to reverese their approach. While moving the turrets fired all they got to obliberate anything and everynoe on the location.
"Alpha and Beta zquadronz! Turn your frekainz gunz around and give uz zome zupport damnz youz!" and with that 10 more MIFVs turned around to engage [member="Kezeroth the Malevolent"] leaving only 5 to guard for any threats from the fort.
Location: Wayland, Jungles
Objective B
Enemies: [member="Bal'gul"] (Primary), [member="Damien Daemon"] (Secondary. Aware of but not engaging)
Allies: [member="Muad Dib"]
...if Bal'gul was waiting for Garrus to do something he wouldn't have to wait very long. After he'd crouched down Garrus took stock in the surrounding area, he knew the general vicinity he'd seen the tentacled monster disappear into, then after making the appropriate calculations in the back of his mind he'd extend his left arm. The Micro Grenade Launcher was reloaded, aimed ahead and the fired as the Warrior tensed his forearm launching his ordnance into the jungle. A distinct -plunk- would be heard after every shot. All total Garrus fired three times which lobbed the same number of grenades out away from him and into the foliage of the jungle where the monster remained unseen...
...these grenades were not Fragmentation Grenades. Incendiary Grenades were what Garrus fired out of the launcher as he released his second salvo out into the jungle. Upon detonation the incendiary grenades wouldn't have the same radius as a fragmentation grenade but the mixture of chemicals they released burned hot and fiery and had a similar effect on the flora in the vicinity. The Mandalorian had launched the Incendiary Grenades with the sole purpose of lighting the jungle ablaze and the fire would spread fast. It might not touch Bal'gul, the grenades may not have even landed near him, however they were fired within an optimal radius of his last known vicinity and the intention of them was either to drive the creature out of the fight and away or flush him out and force him towards Garrus who was waiting with even more firepower. Best laid plans of course...
...after he'd fired the salvo of grenades into the jungle Garrus allowed his optics to revert to standard mode enabling him to see normally as he watched the fire begin to spread ahead of him and he waited. Gripping the Vornskr Shotgun in his right hand his fingers would tense around the magnetized grip while he waited to see if a monstrous mass would emerge from the flora of the burning jungle and attack him. If not it was just as well in the mind of the Mandalorian who slowly began to shift his attention towards Muad Dib and Lord Daemos, both of which appeared to be engaged in combat with one another. While neither the grenades nor the fire which was created due to them targeted either man, Garrus wasn't a fan of friendly fire, it would certainly be difficult to miss as both of them would be nearby with concerns to the surrounding area...
Token was really good at following. She was better at following when her prey wanted her to be followed. And didn’t have like… dragon wings or, cat legs or cat legs and dragon wings. The Shifter ahead of her. That was an interesting being. Token would definitely have to get their comm frequency talk to them more. Learn a bit more of their life experiences. She still did love the whole idea of first contacts and learning about new people. She always would.
She did have a bachelors of anthropology. Yeah… her parents were rich, okay? And then they died. And now she was kind of rich, and then she traveled and burnt through the money looking for answers of life, liberty and the Force. Then her cousin gave her a casino and resort empire. And now she was rich again.
But she also liked the Primeval people. That meant helping them out.
Even if they ran fast.
Token got to the panel that Laguz was messing with and took a breath, hands on her knees. She was not quite out of shape, well, for running, she was. The girl was a dancer, and a swimmer. And the air was stale.
“And we’re running again…” She muttered as Laguz took off again.
Hopping on the bandwagon because I can't find music
Ebenezer thought that he could keep up with [member="Laguz Vald"] with the force, and from his point of view he thought that he was, only rounding the corner to see it start pounding down the stairs again, and failing to notice the dismantled terminal. He no longer held up his illusion for any but his amphistaff, to anyone else it would be an odd sight of a snake and boot simply floating through the air, but the snake was not in the boot, mind you. He suddenly felt a slight sense of pride in himself as he thought that he had finally caught up with the Shi'do, but his spirits were soon crushed as it started to once more get further and further away. It was then that he realized that the sprinting Shi'do had stopped to wait for what ever reason. It was at that moment that he realized that he never would really be able to catch up. It was then that he felt something scraping along the boot, the vicious face of a bat peeking in to look upon its new delectable meal of slug.
"Feth off you lunchbox!"
The bat squeeled as it was forced out of the croke's humble abode and into the mouth of the amphistaff. The croke felt his molluscus body contracting ever so slightly to the changing pressure as the duo seemed to be delving deeper down into the heart of the mountain mine. The gap between he and the shifter, of course, was only getting larger.
"Laguz, slow down damnit!"
The boot hit the next stair well before the croke let out another sigh before leaping down to the next one.
Pain wracked his body. Slices, bruises, collapsed lung , burns, and a weariness not to mention the hole I his chest and left leg. But there is something to say about willpower or the plain cursed stubbornness to lay down and give up. Combine that with his experience and a mind that was mad and Muad Dib was a force to be reckoned with. Its one of the things that made him such a formidable sith in his time.
As Daemos healed himself Muad took the time to draw on the force, not healing but refortifying his body and opening his connection to the force even wide. When Daemos opened the connection to the wealth of power afforded to him again Muad utilized force absorb to siphon off some of the excess energy for himself. As Daemos began to alter the force to his own wishes Muad rose fully absorbing as much energy as possible.
And then the release of the force destruction. The power of the destructive wave was not to be denied, even with Muad siphoning off the energy from both the souls and the force maneuver. As the wave washed out from Daemos the ground shook, the undergrowth of the jungle nearly evaporating from the dark side power. Roots and shrubs exploded from the pure power.
And still Muad continued to absorb energy pulling it into himself.
Then the edge of the force destruction came upon the Mad Knight of Mandalore. Hitting him in the chest first Muad grunted. The power of the attack cracked his armor, splintering it. Shards splintered off as the corrosive power destroyed the armor shattering it off his body. Rocking back he staggered as the skin of his forearms and cheeks peeled off, his tunic and trousers becoming frayed, his chest flaying. Hair and light stubble on his face smoked and caught flame just to be extinguished by the wave. Sagging to his knees with arms open e accepted the whirlwind of chaos.
And still he pulled in the raw power of the force focusing and shaping the invisible power.
His forehead spit pouring a line of crimson over his left eye. He felt the wave crack a rib, then another. His flesh was sanded by the destructive nature of the maneuver performed by Daemos. Nerves were exposed burning until being seared by the power of the force destruction. A pain in his gut wracked him as an internal organ or more ruptured.
And still Muad absorbed and focused the power siphoned and drawn from the force.
Around them explosions rocked the jungle as Garrus lobbed grenades that ignited the jungle further fueling the raging firestorm all around. The form of Bal'gul was unseen and yet his presence was still felt.
And still Muad focused the invisible energy, focusing it into a point of power.
Finally what felt like hours but less then seconds and the wave of force destruction washed past. Being a practioner of force destruction Muad knew how taxing it was, knew how it was he over everything in a tidal wave of power. And he knew if he survived the brunt of it he would crest the wave and have mere moments to act.
Taking the hits, the wounds, the pain, the injuries was his choice so he could feed and fuel his attack. The force had formed a deadly spear of energy, invisible but unbreakable. It wasn't a mere form of energy as lightning that raged with focus but unreliable path to its target easily deflected or absorbed. Neither was it as all encompassing and unfocused as the massive wave of force destruction. Instead it was precise as a scalpel but as fast as light and as powerful as the energy put into it.
With those precious moments as the wave passed his wracked body Muad sent the spear of midnight black flying unerring toward the beskar chest plate free torso of Daemos in hopes that the invisible spear would not only pierce the body of the man and ravage his body but tear a hole straight through the size of a buy'ce.
He had learned his lesson and didn't point nor roar before his attack that if successful would hopefully kill if not then incapacitate his enemy.
Ana cursed as the blade sliced though her hand. It was painful but there wasn't much she could do put bite her lip and take the pain. She had been though worse and Ana could survive this. A hand that was now useless was not an issue though she felt very stupid for trying to grab on to anything.
It wasn't all bad though, the plants were working in her favor and helping her keep him back as much as they could. She just needed to keep focused and not do anything stupid, again.
As he elbowed her in the face Ana cursed again as her helmet finished cracking in half and fell to the ground. This left her pretty face all exposed. Ana was not pleased and as such used her plants again to squeeze tighter around him as she looked to bring in more for his arms as back up. It was a slower process though as Ana was not at full strength and her head was killing her.
Calling a nearby medium stick to her side Ana struggled to grab it with her good hand before hitting him with it. She didn't know how much damage it would do but it would be annoying.
Location: Wayland; Inside Mount Tantiss Ruins/Mine moving towards the bomb!
Objective: #3 - Maze Run
Allies: | [member="Graad Hokan"] | [member="Darth Wyrrlok VI"] | | [member="Anija Ordo"] | [member="Chaos Maxtor"] | [member="A'den Shereshoy"]
Enemies: [member="Laguz Vald"] | [member="Ebenezer"] | [member="Jun Nez"] | [member="Token Waters"]
Gear: Listed in bio
Briika just rolled her eyes at [member="Chaos Maxtor"]'s comment, but of course he couldn't see the face she made behind her darken T-visor with her tongue sticking out. She had a ripe retort ready for him too inquiring if he was a woman or child, but then [member="Graad Hokan"] stepped in puffing his chest like a jealous lover, which he wasn't, the latter part, yet, or maybe not ever, or sooner than later... Gods, why was she thinking about such things at a time like this anyway?! ...Because they could die at any moment during this mission like now!
The baar'ur bit her lip as the lift began to descend. It seemed at first to just be old and creakity, but then it began to gain some speed and bam! Suddenly it stopped on a dime sending the three occupants sprawling to the lift's floor.
Is that your blaster or are you glad to see me, was Bree's first thought as something was poking her as Graad was partially atop her body, but it wasn't verbalizes as seconds counted here to get out of this mess.
Briika acknowledged she was okay as she quickly got back up, then stood to the farthest edge of the lift's floor with her booted feet as the ver'verd set a small charge to blow a hole in it for their escape. She pulled a pair of rope grippers out of a pouch on her utility belt, then followed him down through the gaping hole, turning back to Chaos before descending the lift's cables.
< "Age before beauty, > she quipped lightly, then did a controlled, yet speedy decent the whole time hoping the lift didn't give way and come crashing down upon them in the shaft. One reason - Because they were making good progress finally, and two - Bree wasn't ready to die just yet. Hopefully the others on their team were fairing as well or better than they were. Time was running out for the Mando'ade finish their mission before Primeval did.
In the thick waves of humidity that clouded the jungle proper - a natural home for cold blooded creatures (and killers), the missiles sent were picking out the stark contrast of heat and humidity with the colder reptilian blood that coursed through the very veins of his prey. A heat signature could go either way, though most simply assumed that the greater the source of heat, the more inclined the trajectory was to follow. While the first barely missed it's mark, plowing into a the trunk of a fallen tree, and turning it into wood-chips, the second was on a far more clear path. He was certain this bit of enforcer level artillery would take down his target, or at least lay it languishing from injuries enough to finish the dark deed of war. After all, he was not on a path of peace, or a mission of mercy - this was a war he would fight and utterly destroy his enemy without remorse - and yet still within the Mandalorian's rugged sense of honor.
Divided attention spans had set the salvager to work on his steed. Re-routing a power source to alter the beast's repulsors was necessary if he was going to get the war droid to bank at all, instead of being on a collision course with anything he was currently pointed at. He had to keep appraised of the battle certainly, but there were times when multi-tasking was also required. Using several relay lines, a quick and dirty splice was added to generate the thrusts he would need to resurrect the beast, and continue pursuit of his prize. Such salvaging however would reduce the overall speed, and limit how far he could really push this mechanical marvel. The roar of the auxiliary thrusters sprang to life just before the warning chimes of danger registered in his HUD. While the missile was specifically aimed, the fireball that the beast had conjured was a threat that needed to be extinguished. Without regret, Azrael armed the premature detonation of the missile, which collided with the fireball's course of action.
An explosion of super-heated shrapnel echoed out in a sphere of influence pelting the landscape in all directions. The missile wouldn't strike it's target, and nor would the fireball. Both cancelling out their own forces, but the shatter missile still lived up to it's name. Passing through the blaze at lightning speed, another round of metal bits flung itself in the jungle. Unfortunately a good portion of them came in his direction. Several barbs caught into the softer parts of the beast's under-armor, and three specific ones sliced the river gun clean from it's holster, leaving it a tri-sected mess on the jungle floor. Azrael's personal Echani shield flicked to life taking a good bit of the projectiles and heat from hitting him dead on. The shockwave rocked the floating war droid in it's hovering state, forcing the Mand'alor to raise it up and direct it's path down at the distance between himself and Asura. This time, a single Ripper fell into his grip from his thigh and was raised to offer pot shots of slugthrower rounds directly at his foe while the iron beast came rushing in to close the distance of several meters between them.
This lizard was more intelligent than he initially gave credit as, but that didn't meant he wasn't unbeatable. He'd faced a talking (and rhyming) Terentatek on Yaga Minor and held bits of it's hide as a prize to the slaughter. The lizard may have been large, but he was not giant, and Azrael had faced worse than him. The Manda would see this foe delivered into his hands as well.
