Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

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

Objective: B
Location: In the jungle
Allies: [member="Jemmila Kyrgen"] [member="Vheissu Ireles"]
Enemies: [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Conner Garon"]
Gear: Chain-sickle, Primeval Advanced Agent Tactical Armor, Lightsaber,
Rancor battle mount

Perla heard the sound of the jump pack immediately before the shooting began. Since a standard jump pack only went up to twenty meters that put her opponent right about at the rancor's head because Xana was over twenty meters tall. Likewise, the unfortunate truth about trying shooting a rancor at such close range was that it brought you as the shooter up-close-and-personal with a rancor the size of an AT-ST. A surprisingly agile one, even after being hit by firey blast bugs.

Therefore her enemy was in perfect snatching range for the rancor, and Xana, howling in the pain of the projectiles which jolted her and burned her hide, became enraged and swiftly swatted at the man as though he were a nagging insect. With a roar that could be heard across the jungle, she opened her razor sharp claws, her hand nearly as big as his entire torso, to snatch him. However as Xana lunged, she stumbled with sheer the agony of her wounds.

This caused her position to suddenly change downward and the disruptor bolt, sailing through the air with an eerie sonic noise, grazed Xana's back, searing her rough, mottled skin and causing a chunk of her hide to disintegrate.

But the thundering noise, gave the sniper's position away so during the weapon cool down, the massive rancor, guided by Perla and her Force bond and the pain of its wounds, charged through the jungle immediately locating the tree trunk and lept towards him, both her arms out to slash at the Mandalorian with her dagger-sharp claws. The rancor was angry and hungry because Perla hadn't fed her before the battle, but she didn't want the rancor to eat just yet. Because at the same time, the beast moved atop of the sniper, Perla whipped her chain-sickle towards his head, the blade whipping towards him like a lasso, the large scythe headed straight for his neck.
 
Location: Jungle
Objective: Rumble in the jungle
Allies: Mandalorians
Enemies: [member="Darth Vornskr"], Primeval
Gear: 1x MKI bolter, 1x bolt pistol, 1x sonic shotgun, wrist-worn flamethrower, vibroknife, grenades, lightsabre, beskar'gam


As clichéd as it undoubtedly sounded, Siobhan felt a presence that she had not felt in a very long time. This vaguely plagiaristic reference aside, the crash of the ship that carried the Last Sith Emperor of the old Empire had not gone unnoticed by her. Nor the unmistakeable dark presence that became more palpable the more she advanced through the jungle, covered by the bushes and the trees that rose high into the sky. Force Sense did not make you omniscient and in any case Siobhan had never excelled at those abilities that required insight rather than power.


But the dark presence of the armoured Sith felt...very familiar. In the second it took her to make the decision to engage, she was reminded of Fondor. She had fought the former Emperor there on a shipyard, though the short duel had ended in a stalemate when he escaped her after his mental attacks backfired and drove her berserk. This time, after all the trials and training she had been through, she was certain that she was better prepared against the mental attacks that had given her such trouble. The massive amphistaff the Sith seemed to be carrying could be problematic though, but there was still a good deal of distance between them.


Time for action. The Butcher of Gehenna pulled at the strands of power in order to unleash a powerful telekinetic hammer meant to ram into his legs with a force to smash bones and break a durasteel wall down. Her MKI bolter, held in a tight grip, roared when she squeezed the trigger and explosive bolts leapt out. The warheads would be armed at launch and explode upon impact, meaning any pressure exerted would cause detonation.
 
Objective: B - 2 - PvP
Location: Jungle
Allies:
Primeval, [member="Lord Daemos"]
Enemies: Mandalorians
Primary Target: [member="Muad Dib"]

Gear:
x1 Hoversled, x8 lightsabers

The flaming trees groaned as they fell, shrieking and spitting hisses into the air as the fire consumed pockets of sap amid the bark. Bal'gul's blades became a blur of motion, all eight spinning defensively even as the repulsersled moved slowly to one side. One tree missed entirely, the other was cut in over a half dozen places and fell into sundered pieces. Some of the burning bark sprinkled over Bal'gul and the Iyra let out a tremulous cry as they blackened and charred his skin. All comfortability dissipated as heat leached the moisture from the air.

One second Bal'gul was contemplating the fiery inferno, the tongues of flame reflected in all eight of his eyes, wondering how he could avoid a crispy death, the next second a familiar being came crashing through the jungle canopy and dispensed the firestorm with a few gestures of his hand. Bal'gul had to admit no minute amount of sheepishness at the recognition of his savior, the same fellow he'd mocked for wielding an over-sized blade. He felt rather churlish now.

The repulsersled hummed forward through the fire's remnants, smoke clogging the air. Bal'gul released a light push in the Force that swept a path before him, allowing his pores to drink in oxygen. All eight eyes blinked at Daemos' words.

"I must express my athanasia of gratitude, my dear brand-bearing bumpkin."

And with that, Bal'gul accelerated his repulsersled forward, aiming to close to saber range with the nimrod.
 
Location: Jungle
Objective: Rumble in the jungle
Allies: Mandalorians
Enemies: Primeval, [member="Bal'gul"] , [member="Lord Daemos"]
Gear: single phase lightsaber, dual phase lightsaber, light foil, skinning knife, E-11 blaster rifle, bandolier of grenades, night ops armor, Sith power gauntlets, comlink


With the arrival of another Sith Muad grinned. But as his fires began to die down he frowned. Then he felt the weight around his neck as pressure began to build. In the force he sensed the wave of power from souls flow into Daemos and out to crush his neck. With his face getting red he began to grin again and growled out a few words.

"This is going to be fun ..."

Pulling on the force he focused on the force energy being used to fuel the grip on his neck and pulled at it. The pain was nothing. The surge of strength was amazing. As Daemos poured more energy into the force grip Muad absorbed it, pulling the power into himself and trying to leach power straight from the source: the souls.

Finally he noticed Squidward charging and with his left hand grabbed two grenades, activating them and finally tossing them at the last moment. They exploded. Whether the explosion, concussion wave, or fragments managed to shred the creature or the sled, Muad cared little. He used the combustion to feed the dying flames and ramp up the heat, smoke, and fire.

Turning he sliced a third tree and layout into the lower branches as it began to fall toward Daemos. Running along the slope of the falling trunk the tree burst into flames as it fell.

Battle was about to be joined.
 
Location: Wayland; En-route to Mount Tantiss Ruins
Objective: Maze Runner [Objective 3]
Allies: [member="Nandiach_Ankah"] | [member="Graad Hokan"] | [member="Darth Wyrrlok VI"] | [member="Verz Horak"] | [member="Briika Detta"] | [member="Chaos Maxtor"] | [member="A'den Shereshoy"]
Enemies: [member="Laguz Vald"] | [member="Ebenezer"] | [member="Jun Nez"] | [member="Token Waters"]
Gear:

OOC
Mandos: You may start at the location, posting arriving. I require two posts to reach the location, as I did not start there. Once I am there, we can start. You can utilize an Ani'jarkiv to get you there.

For a long moment, Anija studied the area surrounding the mining platform. Through her external audio, she could hear the fighting below picking up. it was as she continued to study the area around the mining platform that her sensors pinged. They had picked up unusual movement near the mines. And not associated to any Mandalorians.

As she realized this, her hands clenched for a moment around the butt of her ripper. Swearing softly, she turned quickly on her heel and dashed back inside. She had to move fast. Manda only knew what would happen if that was Prime soldiers. Besides the mining platform itself, there was no telling what a possible crashed ship would do to the ruined complex below. Quickly, she made her way down to the hangars. Once there, she could see the defenders dug in. She turned quickly to her left and grinned. Parked against the wall, were about a dozen speeders.

With a deep breath, she keyed her comm again. "Arr'ika.... I'm going to take a group to check on the mine. I spotted a bit of movement there, and not from our boys... and I'm not sure what's going on...." Frowning, she ended the transmission again, not wanting to distract him too much. Instead, she sent him a brief text message with a single phrase: <Ni kar'taylir darasuum, cyare...> Having done so, she drafted a quick message to her squad, and sent it over secure comms. <Vode.... I've spotted movement near the phrik mine and the ruins of Mount Tantiss. Meet me at the following coordinates....>

Message sent, she sprinted over towards her bes'uliik. The custom fighter was fueled and ready... which was a good thing. Quickly, she clambered up the ladder and dropped unto the pilot's chair by way of the open canopy. As soon as she did, ANNE automatically began establishing the uplink to the fighter's control systems. This was something they'd done a million times before, and something Anija didn't have to even think about. ANNE just did it. Mainly because it let Anija focus on the pre-flight and mentally prepare herself.

For once, she was very grateful that Arrbi had taught her the dissembling technique months ago. Once she was outside the protective bubble provided by the ysalamiri aboard the Bral, she knew there was a strong chance someone might sense her and try to mentally attack. And she wasn't about to let that happen. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she touched a few controls on the console. Instantly, the ready lights flickered over from yellow to green. As soon as they did, Anija kicked in the repulsors. The bes'uliik drifted up off the hangar deck, and Anija made sure to retract the landing gear as she oriented t he vessel towards the hangar's starfighter deployment chutes.

Once in position, she transmitted her authorization codes. The reply was quick... and as she brought the starfighter up a little higher up off the hangar decking, she felt a slight bump as the hangar bay's tractor beams took hold. She felt a slight tug of inertia as the tractor beams pulled her ship upwards, and the switch between tractor beam pairs was very smooth. As the Be'suliik rose higher, Anija pressed another control, and saw the light on the console turn a steady blinking green. The stygium cloak was now active.

And just in time. Seconds later, Anija passed through the upper shield, and felt the tractor beams release the bes'uliik. Kicking in the sublights, Anija rolled the fighter in a loose corkscrew and headed east. As she did, she kept scanning with passives. Her eyes narrowing, Anija boosted power to the sublights, pushing the control stick almost to the edge of the console. She didn't want to engage the booster. For one, it might give her away... and second... she couldn't engage the booster while cloaked.
 
Objective C
Location: Nearing the top of Mount Tantiss [MAP]
Allies: [member="Ebenezer[/URL]"]http://starwarsrp.net/user/7062-ebenezer/ | [member="Laguz Vald"] | [member="Token Waters"]
Enemies: @[URL="http://starwarsrp.net/user/3628-anija-ordo/"]Anija Ordo
| @Graad Hokan | @Darth Wyrrlok VI | @Chaos Maxtor | @Verz Horak | @Briika Detta
Gear: Personal Armour | Z-6 rotary blaster cannon

Why was he here? Well, he had contacted the Primeval government about treasures and power, and they told him that he could keep anything he found and he would even have help with it. Jun Nez was sold, not being much for working with strangers, he'd accepted either way. Time is money and his crew needed a vacation.

The air was cold and the silence was great. Only the hum of the engines along with the breathing from his companions were heard. Jun Nez looked over the sorry few who were chosen to go on this mission with him. A creature he couldn't quite put him tongue on what were, but it was equipped with a sniper and he was sure it looked different a moment ago, a silly human with a lightsaber, probably a sith and whatever that creature in the corner was it didn't seem quite alright. For once he appeared to be the more normal.

His mind was clear except for a faint drumming as they got closer "Dum da dum, dum da dum, dum dum da dum." The drums of war had begun. Jun Nez was ready for whatever they meet when they arrived, but were they? They didn't look ready to him, he thought. He began scanning his temporary companions with his suit as they came ever closer their objective.
 
[SIZE=12pt]Objective 2[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Location: the Jungle -[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Allies: [member="Conner Garon"] | [member="Garrus Garon"] | [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] | [member="Anastasia Rade"] | [member="Muad Dib"] | [member="Mira Gyndar"] | [member="Strider Garon"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Enemies: Primeval[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Gear:
[/SIZE] rifle, bres'briik grenades, her knife was within the slot of her armor, her pistol , armor (link at bottome) crush gauntlets

Post 2

[SIZE=12pt]The sun was high above the horizon Arla could see the shadows as it moved slowly across the Wayland sky. The beauty of Wayland’s jungle curtains full of flowers and leaves intertwining and dancing with one another in a perfect harmony. The trees stood so firm so tall it was as if the roots had to cling to the trunks for their very lives. Somewhere off to her right she picked up a river she imagined it to having rampaging rapids with white crests racing down river.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Arla moved along her rifle unslung raised to the ready to shoot her HUD scanning ahead she could hear the Vod around her she could read their heat signatures through the jungle growth.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Jungles when not in air cooled armor were hot and humid. The plant life had a mind of its own growing to heights that she would not see on Mandalore. She moved with her knees bent slightly. [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]She was adapting the combat tactics learned while fighting in the city to fight in the jungle.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Long vines dropping down like tendrils all around, trees thick a four men standing still, as tall as any rancor gave the jungle its alien feel. It provided cover it also was an obstacle to overcome.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Arla knew only one thing about those that she was stalking they were Sith. Was more reason needed? [/SIZE]
 
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DEW70UJIpfA[/youtube]
Objective: Objective B
Location: Jungle (Fever)
Allies: The Primeval
Enemies: The Mandalorians, [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]
Gear:


For a time his stroll in the wilds of Wayland was relatively calm, which was the exact opposite of what he was looking for on this backwater world. Where were the roaming hordes of Mandalorians screeching their guttural chants and flinging their beskar around like it grew on trees, which Vornskr had half a mind to believe was entirely true considering that everyone's mother and dog seemed to own it in one form or another. Then again maybe he was being a bit hypocritical, considering he wore a pair of augmented crushgaunts on both of his hands, but he was not in the mood to self-analyse and thus pressed forward through the thick foliage. As he walked his mind was ever probing his surroundings, creating a metaphysical web of triggers and sentries in the immediate area around him, but so far the only things to trip them had been the natural wildlife and unless they were secretly wearing beskar and flying around on jetpacks he didn't concern himself with their existence.

Suddenly the sounds of battle were horridly close as another Primeval vessel was struck by Mandalorian flak and came crashing down as a glorious comet of metal and flame about a klick to the east of the Sith Lord, momentarily distracting him right as his triggers were tripped by something that was not an animal of the woods. He half-turned in the direction of this newest threat when a wave of telekinetic energy barreled into his legs causing him to unceremoniously flip end over end before plopping down comically on the soft ground while making a noise that sounded like a mix between a grunt of utter confusion and a exasperated sigh of annoyance.

"What the f-..."

Was all he could spit out before his spider senses flared up with renewed danger, and with a growl of anger a shield of shimmering blue energy enveloped his prone form to catch the explosive bolter shells that thundered towards his position, the rounds exploding on impact with the bubble's surface but never fully breaching it's protection. Still, they packed enough punch to cause cracks to visibly form all over the shimmering down like glass, but the shield had done it's duty well enough for now. With another roar Vornskr let loose his hatred outward in an explosion of pure kinetic energy in which he was the eye of the storm, the force powerful enough to flatten the foliage around him and to cause the nearby trees to lean backwards, but not completely uproot themselves. After his little outburst his eyes scanned for his surprise assailant, and he found himself coming face-to-face with a woman he had not seen since Fondor.

"You! WRETCH!"

The Sith Lord's hatred manifested again as spiraling tendrils of sapphire lightning that sprung forth from his gnarled fingertips to arc through the air between him and her, scorching anything caught in it's path to a brittle black and with licks of orange flame.
 

Zola

Knight of the Obsidian Order
Location: Jungle
Objective: 2
Allies: [member="Perla Pirjo"]
Enemies: [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Conner Garon"]

Equipment:

In the distance a howler monkey cried, angry about the intruders defacing its sacred home. Vheissu, with his nostrils flaring, looked out over the battlefield as if he were in a trance. He rambled about Old Gods sometime. Perhaps they were now sharing some kind of inner wisdom with the Warlord, a wisdom she would never fully understand. The Old Gods that Master Ireles sought to please were esoteric beyond her comprehension. It didn't matter, she heeded the call of a different god now, the galaxy itself and all of its beautiful creations.

Her eyes narrowed as she sensed a disturbance in the Force nearby. A creature was in pain, and another creature who was somehow tied to it was in grave danger. Jemmila cast a worried glance at her Master. Vheissu stared straight ahead, as the waters in a desert oasis. His nonresponse gave her tacit permission. Permission to run.

Baring her teeth beneath her crab armor, Jemmila called upon the winds of a derecho to launch her across the jungle. To help the ones in danger.

When she arrived at the scene, her brown eyes widened. She saw a female warrior astride a battle Rancor, a sight that was wonderful and terrifying all at once. The woman and her mount were being attacked by a soldier with some sort of jump pack [member="Conner Garon"], his armor bearing all the hallmarks of the enemy.

Jemmila called the Force into her body, letting it fill every molecule with its power. She used her telekinetic prowess to rip a huge jungle tree right up from the ground, roots and all. Sithspit! She did not have a clear, unobstructed shot at the soldier, so she let it hover in the air for a moment, her arms outstretched and body tense with concentration.

"Move away from him!" she called out to the warrior woman. "Now!"

tagging [member="Vheissu Ireles"] to let him know his apprentice ran off without him
 
:: HERO of KORRIBAN ::
Objective: 3
Location: Mount Tantiss Ruins
Allies: [member="Briika Detta"] | [member="Anija Ordo"] | @whoever else is on the list
Enemies: @The Environment since this is PvE

Gear:

Manda'lor had called, and Graad answered. A medic was needed in all teams, and Briika was the baar'ur joining the team. The two were arriving together as they had traveled separate from the team. Last minute arrangements were hard for single buire and Graad did what he could to help ease the pressures. He served Manda'lor, but he also valued aliit. They may not have been his aliit, but they were all he had.

They were defending their territory. War was on them again, and Graad knew what this meant. He lived for this as a verd, but now he actually had something to lose. The relationship he was developing with the blonde baar'ur was in a place where they good friends, but something more was beginning to form under the surface. Whatever would happen at this battle, Graad would fight to not lose the aliit he was attaching to.

Booted feet touched the ground. The HUD of his buy'ce scanned the area as he waited for the rest of the team at the rendezvous location. The medic was with him, Graad taking point. Though he enjoyed watching her six, he was always first one on and first one off. Though he made no promise to Mesh'la this time, Graad still would ensure he would lose his life before Briika. He owed it to the young ad of the beautiful baar'ur.

<<<"Let's get this over with. My fields need to be watered.">>>

It was his dry humor, but hopefully Briika had adjusted to it.
 
Location: Jungle
Objective: Rumble in the jungle
Allies: Mandalorians
Enemies: [member="Darth Vornskr"], Primeval
Gear: 1x MKI bolter, 1x bolt pistol, 1x sonic shotgun, wrist-worn flamethrower, vibroknife, grenades, lightsabre, beskar'gam


Lightning! Lightning everywhere!


As the Last Emperor raged and unleashed his wroth in a powerful kinetic explosion, Siobhan had braced herself and anchored herself to the ground. Foliage was swept away, trees bent, but when the blast came close she countered it with one of her own, managing to dissipate it. However, then the Butcher-King brought forth a storm of tendrils of sapphire lightning. The smell of ozone, burnt grass and charred wood filled the air as the lightning blasts scorched anything that was in their path and crossed the distance to her, sweeping forth like a torrent.


Needless to say given the fact that Sio got maimed a lot and as a result of that had bionic replacements, electricity was rather dangerous for her. Those delicate mechanical systems had been built to last, but would be fried by the Sith Lightning of a Master like they were nothing. However, this was one of the reasons Siobhan had trained thoroughly in defensive powers to protect herself.


And so she called upon the Force to wrap herself in a protective cocoon, drawing upon her power to form a strong barrier. However, in the moment the barrier sprung into existence it shimmered and flickered, for her opponent's attack was very potent. Siobhan bit down on her tongue so hard to draw blood as she sought to concentrate. Beskar'gam and her barrier kept her bionics from being fried and her flesh from being turned into a complete barbeque, but as she rallied to strengthen her barrier pain surged through her body, for some lightning had passed through.


She reeled under the salvoes and threatened to stumble. One of her eyes, feeling the effect of the blast, started playing up. Her focus suffered and her HUD became a bit of a mess as the eye went in and out to static. Focus. Pain was just weakness leaving the body. She drew upon the cold anger that resided in the depth of her being and before the storm of lightning, her barrier held. As lightning crashed against her defences and was dissipated, she unleashed a counterattack of her own. It was time to escalate things a tad. She was the eye in the hurricane and so she drew upon the cold fury that so often gave her fuel.


Massive telekinetic power wrapped around the Butcher-King's throat and groin. She focused all her rage and power upon an attempt to lift him into the air, whilst attempting to crush the man's balls and choke him in the process, and slam him against a nearby tree with titanic force. Repeatedly. With the impact and force of a speeder crash.


If all worked as intended, crushing his groin should...hurt a lot. Oh, and also disrupt concentration since it served a practical purpose beyond Siobhan just being sexist! Same went for her attempt to choke the life out of the Sith. Never mind serious blunt trauma inflicted by her abuse of the tree. With every moment her telekinetic grip would tighten as she sought to prevent the Sith from escaping.
 
Location: Jungle
Objective: Rumble in the jungle
Allies: Mandalorians [member="Strider Garon"]
Enemies: Primeval [member="Perla Pirjo"] [member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]
Gear:
Conner Load-out
Armor
Weapons
Viccae Assault Rifle
Melee
Pistols
Tools
Ysalamari

The average height of a jump pack was indeed twenty meters, and that was a sad fact. But luckily for Conner he wasn't using a standard jump pack, he was using the Sky-strike miniature jump pack that propelled him upwards to thirty five meters in the air and rather badassly at that. So when the Rancor's hand came for him to try and snatch him out of the air it was too late. But he did however catch his foot as he ascended upwards to the top of the canopy. This Caused Conner to flip in mid air and land on a branch with a hard oomph as he crashed into it.

But before he was rancor chow a disruptor beam came from his father and opened up the Rancor's back for a deep tissue wound. Conner quickly recovered and looked over to see some woman literally rip a tree from the ground and get ready to throw it at his father, that was not going to happen. Despite how much of a cold and calculated killing machine Conner was these days he wasn't heartless, and he wasn't without loved ones like his father and uncle.

"Rancor coming at your twelve, Sith on your one, moving to intercept sith." Conner said coldly and jumped down from the tree.

As he fell he activated his jump pack again this time aimed horizontally so he could boost through the jungle weaving through trees a solid fifty meters and at one point even catching up to the rancor, but the witch and her pet wasn't his target, it was the sith who was trashing his jungle's trees. Closing in at about ten meters away and still a good twenty three meters in the air Conner opened up on the woman with two bursts of the force dead blast bugs at the woman. If Conner was her he would use the tree as a shield then throw it at him, so seeing this plan coming into effect he mentally prepared for it In case his attack failed. Either way it was going to give his father the much needed concentration to taking on the rancor, because if this woman planned on throwing a tree on his father that was a big ole bag of honey bunches of nopes.
 

Matreya

Well-Known Member
Objective: Defeat the Mandalorians in the Jungle
Location: Junglr
Allies: [member="Bal'gul"]
Enemies: [member="Muad Dib"]
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

Just as the grenades were thrown, Damien sensed something that was genetically bread into his new body: Force Drain. Cutting off the flow of power to the crush, he used some energy to bounce the thrown grenades back towards the throwee just before the detonation could occur.

Then, when the tree recently cut began to fall towards Daemos, the Ancient Sith lunged to the side, planting one arm on the ground while allowing his body to follow the motion in a beautiful cartwheel. Landing expertly, Damien moved onto a newer tactic.

Speaking directly into the mind of the octupus like creature he said, "Come at him hard. I'm going to use one of my stronger talents."

Next, he reached deep within his pool of energy, which held the life force of an entire town from a planet long gone, combined with that of his spirits once more, he sent his mental essence out with one goal; mind control. He was pretty sure he would be able to grapple and suppress the mind he sought, maybe not with ease, but with all the power one such as Daemos possessed - battling masters such as Rave Merrill, as well as Circe Savan, and that was before he gained so much more - as well as combined with the explosions likely to be in the mans face...well he was optimistic.
 
Objective: A - Destroy the shield generator
Location: Primeval landing zone, outside Fort Monroe
Allies: [member="Anja Aj'Rou"], [member="Keira Ticon"], [member="The Dark Man"], [member="Ue-‘Kuo-‘Koe’c’cu-Eou"]
Enemies: TBD
Gear: Ghost Sniper Rifle, Blaster Pistol, Vibroknucklers, Lightsaber, Primeval Light Armor

Strength: 120 troops + 20 MIFVs
Objective: The Seige of Fort Monroe
Location: Primeval landing zone, outside Fort Monroe
Controller: Bannerman Mesoth [NPC]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Ccx_ULBYp0[/youtube]

It was incredible.

The bombs bursting in air. It was a sacrifice of angels. The fallen souls a martyred legion within the host of honored dead who bore to their graves the message of Sargon. The coming of the Host Lord did not mark or marshal the introduction of any trivial or political war. No, conquest was irrelevant. This was a battle for souls.

This was the Primeval at its most evangelical.

They had come to share a message about GOD. Eternal. That which was all. That which was nothing. The void from which all matter sprang. The death into which all life would decay. Three facets of creation. Light, Life, Death. Three, of One. One, of nothing.

The message slipped the Pantoran's lips, passing silently one by one as the beads of his reverie chain ticked by his thumb and forefinger. A supplication to Nogras. A prayer to Halrormalenth. A meditation on Balagoth. As the dropship voyaged through the rocket's red glare of the defensive batteries below, the child-soldier prepared himself for the death of the body. To die, to sleep. To sleep, perchance to serve. The litany of voices in adoration to Sargon. To imagine his own death was to try and capture in a thought the majesty of the well of the souls, or the sound of the eternal chorus that spoke with the voice of the Tongueless Speaker.

Today was a good day to die.

It was almost disappointing, then, when the dropship smacked against the earth of this pagan world. The boy had secured the helmet of his armor suit and tucked the reverie chain into his glove by the time that the doors fell away to reveal the widowing fields into which the faithful would now proselytize their religion. As the first of the MIFV infanty vehicles rolled out, the youth had slung his sniper rifle across his back and leapt out to join the beatitudes unfolding in the shower of blaster bolts and slugs that were ferried across the field. Beskar bullets with butterfly wings.

Perhaps he would cleanse Wayland of the pagan taint that shrouded the light of Nogras on this world. Perhaps he would die here. He would serve the will of Sargon in any case, and the command of his Host Lord.

And that command was given.

"Move into formation," Bannerman Mesoth commanded, as the Mirialan commander directed the outpouring of Primeval soldiers to the battlefield. "We move on the Host Lord's command."

Jumping up from the ground, the armor suited boy hopped atop a MIFV rolling by. Dropped into a three-point crouch, he slung the sniper rifle down from around his back, the child-soldier went to work loading the first blaster cartridge. Locking the canister into position, the Pantoran checked the settings on the rifle scope before bringing it to the ready.

Ahead, he could see the soldiers marshaled around the banner of the Prophet of the Primeval.

His Host Lord. His Prophet. His GOD, right or wrong.
 
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 clarifiy though my jetpack has been replaced with ysalamiri nutrient frame

Strider did not have time to dote upon his expert shot for the beast, who he thought would of been disseminated by the disruptor rifle, had only a pound of flesh disappear from its overly large body. "Frak!" The old man snarled as he tossed the rifle while the enraged bull rancor came charging at him like... well like a angry rancor would. Fortunate for Strider he knew how to handle such beasts for he had dealt with them many times in his life. Such were the dangerous risks he took while trying to mate with Dathomirian witches.

The monster and its rider advanced upon him with massive claws swooping at him like death itself was making a calling of old and leathery mandos. Strider had also spent a life time dodging death and his rightful place in the manda and this day was not the day he was to join his ancestors in the glorious eternal war in the heavens. With panther like reflexes and the heads up by his son he would thrust himself backwards just clear of both claws, though he the rider's gruesome chain weapon would cut across his chest plate. If he had been a tad slower that chain and blade would of decapitated the old man clear and sound.

This was really when Strider wished he had a jet pack and not his nutrient tube that protected him from the force. The jet pack would of offered him mobility against a athletic rancor. One could say he was under equipped for the task at hand. Well, that was till he gripped hold of a thermal det and tossed it at the beast's feet. This would immobilize her for sure and with the setting on impact and not timed she would not have much time to react to the tiny but deadly device. And even the old man himself may not have time to escape the blast radius as he scrambled out of the way with urgency in his hustle.

For the sith wielding a tree, Strider would have to trust his son to deal with her and the threat she posed for he had his hands full with a rancor and witch.
 
Shieldmaiden of Clan Munin (semi-retired)
Objective: 3
Location: Mount Tantiss Ruins
Allies: [member="Graad Hokan"], [member="Anija Ordo"], other Mando'ade at location
Enemy: Primeval/Environment
Gear: Listed in bio

Again, goodbyes were hard on the home front. Now that Briika was a single parent, it was difficult to tell her seven year old daughter that she was off on another mission for Mand'alor. But living the Resol'nare fully meant when their leader called, Mando'ade came without question. It was their duty to defend their own, and that was why the baar'ur was here. At least Briika knew Mesh'la would be well taken care of by the Tor'Detta Clan should things go badly. She too was glad to be in good company having her companion as of late by her side, or in this case watching the rugged Concordian's six… And not a bad six it was either; making it a little easier facing what was before them.

< "No worries, ner vod. Mesh'la has that all taken care of. She and her cousins got it covered… for a price," > Bree quipped lightly over their private comm channel as she followed Graad out of the Ani'jarkiv that was provided for their transportation needs to the Mount Tantiss Ruins wearing her silver beskar'gam. They were to meet up with the rest of the team shortly so the combat medic double checked her gear while they waited for the others to arrive.
 
Objective: B - 2 - PvP
Location: Jungle
Allies:
Primeval, [member="Lord Daemos"]
Enemies: Mandalorians
Primary Target: [member="Muad Dib"]

Gear:
x1 Hoversled, x8 lightsabers

After Daemos' actions there did not seem a lot for the Iyra to do. Not that he could participate significantly in any case.

He waited for the felled tree to smash into the undergrowth with a resounding thud that set avians a-flight, then Bal'gul pushed his repulsorsled forward at its unimpressive top speed. The numerous burns he'd sustained caused no small amount of pain. Bal'gul was familiar with the sensation. When his students had accidentally cast him into the Netherworld eight hundred years ago he had experienced agony unlike any other. The prolonged experience and continuous contact with Sith Lords had left him altered. One might even be tempted to say insane.

The octet of sabers bristled out from the cephalopod like bizarre, glowing thorns. He swiped at the nimrod with one, a low lazy cut aimed for the knees.
 
Location: landing site.
Objective: A
Allies: [member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | @Ue-'Kuo-'Koe'c'cu-Eou | [member="The Dark Man"]
Enemies: [member="Arrbi Betna"] | Other Defenders
Gear: Armour | Weapon

Unit: The Gulandi Warriors
Strength: 150
Location: Beside Anja
Objective: Defend Anja
Controller: Anja Aj'Rou



The Gulandi Warriors took formation, a handful pulled small crates out from the dropship before returning to the group. Anja's gaze turned itself towards Keira who for the first time in her life would be fighting alongside the Host Lord rather than against her. It was quite strange, really, and despite the transpired events that brought her here it seems she didn't lose her sense of humor. The Witch had no words to respond with, instead giving the cold shoulder and turning her attention to two other new arrivals.

One was her slave -- a strange creature that still remained unknown to her; he was useful, though, he had managed to escape the grasp of a dozen soldiers with a single scream. The third person was Boo Chiyo, an agent of the Bleeding Sun and despite his youthfulness the young Pantoran had proved himself a valuable asset with a strong sense of justice and an aptitude for command. Their objective was to breach the fortress and destroy the power generator, do that and the base is as good as theirs.

"Chiyo, I want your soldiers on support -- keep us moving." She ordered the young agent with a simple command, use the resources available to him to support their assault.

Turning her head towards Keira, "I want you as the Vanguard, get rid of any obstacles at all costs." The Dark Man was already doing his own thing for the time being, as for her slave she only gestured for the Blind One to follow closely. The Gulandi would serve as the backbone of their assault and be dangerous once they manage to breach the base.

With the orders given, Anja and her unit moved forward towards their objective.
 
:: HERO of KORRIBAN ::
Objective: 3
Location: Mount Tantiss Ruins
Allies: [member="Briika Detta"] | [member="Anija Ordo"] | @whoever else is on the list
Enemies: @The Environment

<<<"A price? I'm afraid to ask what this is going to cost me,">>> Graad said with a light hearted chuckle.

His Beskar'gam was pretty distinctive as the paint pattern was that of a human skeleton. The ver'verd used it as a way of intimidation, but he had a feeling this time it would not help. Still he was to be feared, and again, the buy'ce was firmly attached as Briika made certain he wasn't going to get another concusion. He hadn't let her put synthflesh over the scar he had gotten as a reminder to not be such a di'kut again.

"So, what do you know about this particular mission?"
 
Objective: C
Location: Dropship
Allies: The Prime Evil
Enemies: Mandomastadons
Gear: Self, Amphistaff

If there was one thing that the Croke knew, it was that the higher-ups needed to stop using him as cannon-fodder, he was one of their "special" agents after all. So much for that.

First it was, "Explore this planet or we kill you."

Then it was, "Do things on these planets and you'll be rewarded."

Now it was back to a variant of the former. Kark's sake he wasn't a warrior. Every other time (once to be exact) he had done something like this it was the same routine. Get in, make yourself look like one of them and go in for the kill, then get out after you pretend to die. Or spray poison directly into their eyes.

It seemed as though the longer he stuck with the Bleeding Suns the more... unique its members seemed to get. He didn't like it under these constrains it was likely that anyone encountering them would be able to pick them off as threats simply because they looked different than the rest of the military. Of course he could change that in a heartbeat, so it was his privilege to appear how he chose. That... sniper...thing could do it within a few seconds after. the others would probably take a bit longer. He then looked to his illusory form, he however had it down, or so he thought. In reality he probably stood out more than the other people on this gods-forsaken ship but that never crossed his mind.

To [member="Jun Nez"] the "strange creature" would appear as he did in his illusory form, as such was the natural ability of the croke to make forms that could fool electronics, the biological mind, and even the force itself, but why would that matter when the heat scans were oddly the same temperature throughout with little variation from organs ((if his instruments could read such data))? More like a warm and hollow husk perhaps? He didn't know it, but Ebenezer still needed work on that.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom