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

[Ra Vizsla]

Location: B, Jungles
Allies: Mandalorians, [member="Anastasia Rade"]
Enemies: [member="Kiran Vess"]
Gear: ACS-004 Immortal Armor | Bes'Bev | Mandalorian Ripper | Acidic Paragon Vibroaxe

Wolves hunted the jungles of Wayland this eve to take a life

Left hand was fork, right was knife;

His fangs were sharped to a point, strong as steel

As the Wolf approached the first course of his meal.


A howl then a sprint, from tree to newfound branch

the Wolf fell upon his prey like an avalanche

To him the Wolf clept, seemingly unwise

"Wolves may lurk in every guise.


Come toil with me, my old friend,

Ne'er shall we see how this will end."

And so the Wolf descended upon Kiran, gnashing and gnawing

Crashing upon his foe, clashing and clawing.


"The beauty of Wayland shall remain unspoiled

even as you stand before me, your pants wet and soiled

Gay and charming it was, now there's but one truth

This Wolf has a sweet tongue, and a very sharp tooth."

 

[Kurt Meyer]

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

“Well poodoo!” Kiran yelled as he forced a roll to the side.

His body swung, the womans lightsaber blade scratching the surface of his armor and slicing through his chest plate. The blade left a long gash, digging into the Asheran armorweave but not cutting through it. Briefly he thanked Titan Industries for doing their research, though the thought was quickly lost as an insane man spouting poetry dove towards him.

Kiran continued his roll, ducking and weaving away from the other man as the call in his helmet blipped once again. The Zeltron rolled, crashing through the bushes and falling into a nearby clearing in the trees.

“Honey.” Kiran said as he came to a stop, his free hand reaching down and drawing his blaster from its holster. “I seem to be outnumbered.”

The Mercenary lay on the ground, his arms shifted. The Annihilator pointing towards [member="Jhaega Fellwinter"] while his blaster directed towards [member="Anastasia Rade"] both weapons aiming at their skulls. He squeezed the triggers twice, heavy plasma and bright blue bolts searing towards the Mandalorians.

 

[Mard Szaks]

Objective: A - Destroy the generator
Location: Moving in on the Nandos
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: [background=transparent]LL-Interchangeable Weapons System | [/background]Advanced Agent Tactical Armour | BTI-WB "Woebringer" Heavy Blaster Pistol | 4 EMP Grenades | Vibroblade

NPC Unit: Primeval Golden Banner 5th

Spoiler

Unit:Primeval Golden Banner 5th
Strength: 120 troops + 20 MIFVs
Objective: The Siege of Fort Monroe
Location: Shortly in front of the minefield
Controller: Mard Szaks

The missiles launched by the other wing of their assault had been mostly countered, with only a few reaching their destination, and the rest filling the sky between them, and a long stretch of the minefield below, with fiery hell. After focusing on the first salvo, any anti-air guns would not have the time to refocus on the second, twice as big, and fired merely moments later from the other side of the wide spread attack force. Thus, only a few of them were taken out, and the rest - about 70% of the salvo - penetrated the base's AA defences, and were well on their way to their target.

"Continue moving!" - it was important that they got as far as possible before - A heavy thud came somewhere from the left. "They took out one of the launchers!" As the statistics appeared on his HUD, Mard saw one of the now-empty launchers flash red and disappear. The smoke and fire from the launch must have made it an easy target to aim for. "An empty one, we won't reload it any time soon anyway. Keep on moving! If we die, we serve the cause!"

As they pushed onward, a sudden hopeful message came through the commlink: "The gate! It's down!" Their attack must have hit something vital. "Good. Let's keep it that way. All units, concentrate fire on that gate." He considered an action for a short while. Then he switched to the internal channel of his vehicle. "Fire the launcher. Get those high explosive rockets in there." A heartbeat later, the hissing sound he heard earlier came through much louder, from directly outside the MIFV. Then, their sensors told them the missiles exploded. "All right! Move up to the minefield, then we wait for the infantry."

The Mandalorians he was fighting seemed much... less fierce than the stories he had heard in his youth. And the ones he had fought on his homeworld. Either way, they had to die or join the right side.

 

[Darth Wyrrlok VI]

Objective: maze runner
Allies: Mandalorians
Enemies: Primeval
Gear: right hand - beskar plated vibrosword. Left hand - beskar plated vibroknife. Holstered weapons two basic blaster pistols. Armour light weight beskar'gam with reinforced gauntlets for hand to hand conbat.

Zhaerack was practicing on his melee skills when he was disturbed by the sirens that started to ring throughout the entire base. A few moments later he walked over to his helmet and weapons and prepared to fight along side his brothers and sisters but while he was getting himself ready to fight Anija Ordo sent Zhaerack orders to make his way to the shielded mining platform as she had a mission for a few of us mandos.

Without hesitation Zhaerack readied his gear and made his way to mount tantiss ruins.

Zhaerack looked for the closest unused shuttle and went over to it. Zhaerack knew how to fly this particular shuttle so he wouldn't have any trouble flying it to mount tantiss ruins. After quickly inspecting the shuttle Zhaerack believed this shuttle was good to go and prepared to make his way to Anija and the rest of the mandalorians that were sent on this mission.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhJh5_6MuCk[/youtube]​

Objective: Objective B
Location: Generic Forest Backdrop
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

The fire.

Unnatural in it's intensity and spread, the sparks seemed to leap from tree to tree as the hatred seeping from the Sith Lord fueled the pyre that was beginning to erupt behind him and his foe. The devouring flames cast horrid shadows across the landscape, turning the already imposing Sith Lord's shadow into a nightmarish titan of jagged lines and warped edges. He himself paid no heed to the spreading fire, actually taking a quick moment to revel in the natural destruction being caused by their conflict, drinking in the suffering of life in all of its forms. A sharp spike of pain continuously snaked through his chest, the most obviously result of his collapsed lung, but like before he fed off of his own suffering as well as the suffering of others to give substance to his power. He watched as the woman was knocked back from the sheer strength behind his blows, noting the iconic beskar'gam she, and no doubt the other Mandalorians, wore like they had nothing else in their wardrobe.

He began his advance, his long legs allowing him to almost close the distance in a couple of strides, but before he could actually reach his target and swing his lightsaber he was met with a wall of pure sound. Even if his eardrums didn't burst, it sure did knock out all sense of hearing the moment the distortion slammed into him like a rampaging Reek, physically caving in his stomach as he slide back several meters along with the overwhelming sonic energy that caused his entire being to explode in spikes of pure agony. Luckily for him the weapon was not as accurate as a blaster, but it still left a crackling crater the size of his fist right smack dab in the right side of his breastplate. By the time he had recovered the shook the ringing noise from his head, his quarry had vanished but was quickly spotted a good distance away further into the forest, and before long he could feel her telekinetic grip wrap itself around his spinal cord.

Not one to be nuked down at a distance, he quickly began to sprint headlong in her direction regardless of what was arrayed before him. His first lightsaber had been knocked from his grip during the sonic blast, but instead of reaching for his secondary he called the Scepter of Power into his hand, which slithered up his chest to coil around his arm before becoming rigid and straight in the form of a blunt quarterstaff. While it couldn't cut through anything like his lightsaber could, he could successfully twirl it around him to knock back all sorts of material should Siobhan decide to start flinging stuff at him to give pause to his single-minded charge. Then he felt it, his spin beginning to bend and crack under her masterful control over telekinesis, and he knew he wouldn't be able to keep running and fighting off her attack at the same time. One or the other would have to give, so he decided to slam on the brakes and slide through the muddy ground to a dead stop before jutting out his right hand in the direction of Siobhan.

"KIRAZI!"

The blasphemous words bubbled past his cracked lips to fill the air with an overwhelming sense of dread and despair, and then from his fingers billowed forth thick ropes of sickly green fog that dropped down to the ground before splitting into several tendrils of leeching energy that wormed it's way towards Siobhan at different angles. The nearby flora was drained of all color and life as the fog crept over it, devouring the life energy present in the plants, and it would do the same to her should it reach.

 

[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>​

Give a man a gun, he'll fight for a day. Give a man an iron war beast... he'll fight 'til the day he dies. But what happens when you give a beast of flesh and blood... what happens when you give him magic? With blades to match? Well, we'll find that out soon, won't we? Azrael was not your average lizard. No, he wasn't like the ysalmiri that he had heard so much about. This man had poor visual sight, yet sound allowed him to hear, to see everything. And despite his large size he was fast as well as strong. Was his invincible? Quite definitely not. His form prevented him from fully covering himself in armor, and what scales he had were not nearly as strong as the Mandalorians' beskar'gams. Already the noises of combat were drilling into his ears. To much more would cause the creature to have to move back. Or simply eradicate the ones who irritating him. Knowing this, he ignited all four of his lightsabers, his two free hands clasping around his rifle. Having six arms tends to be helpful. So does, in certain cases, echolocation. He heard the Mandalorian long before he saw his outline.

"Time for some fun..."

While he admittedly had underestimated how loud the machine would end up being, Azrael Asura had more than enough strength in him to react to the bolts flung his direction. Quickly the behemoth thrust himself to his left, turning as he did to face his opponent, blades whirring in front of him. The site put before him was one he had been expecting. Once upon a time his people had lived amongst Mandos and Witches. Many stories had been told to him of their prowess. Their skill. Going against someone he had grown up admiring would be interesting. If he lost... it would not be surprising. But if he won... he would prove that he was no longer a child lost beneath the ruins of a culture. So silently the reptile vowed to fight until he truly could not anymore. Alongside this thought came his next action: Several slug rounds from his rifle were released, aimed at the helm of the Mand'alor, a move to attempt to temporarily blind (or distract) the man. Should that fail... well, the Primeval warrior didn't really think about that. He trusted himself enough to 'go with the flow'. Hopefully it wouldn't cost him.

 

[Azrael]

Location: Wayland Jungles
Objective: Rumble in the Jungle
Enemies: [member="Azrael Asura"] | Primeval
Allies: Mando'ade
Mount: Bes'uliik
Gear:

Spoiler

• 
  E'tad Kal (on person)
  
• 
  BOAR.D. Railgun (on mount)
  
• 
  2x Ripper Mark II (on person)
  
• 
  M-25 River Gun (on mount)
  
• 
  5x Forcebreaker Gas Grenade (two on person, one on mount)
  
• 
  3x Sonic Detonators (two on mount, one on person)
  
• 
  2x Ysalamir in protective nutrient tubes (1 on mount, 1 on person)
  
• 
  Beskar'gam (on person)
  

A thunderous bellow, and a high octane level of damning speed tore the war droid through the bramble and brush of the jungle proper as those brilliant bolts of plasma ripped across the closing distance between himself and the target. Thick limbs registered in his HUD, six of them - and all occupied with various weapons of warfare. The all too familiar weapons igniting in a flash of speed and dexterity to bounce those beams of plasma back and forth from the brute's location, rendering them inert in the first wave of assault. They were meant to get his attention, and while they'd certainly do considerable harm to an unaware opponent - the Mand'alor wasn't facing a creature that would be so easily and effortlessly bested. That kind of affirmation was a thing of glad tidings to the warrior that rode for conflict and war. He would be faced with a challenge, and from that he could thrive in the passion for glory through combat. Answering back that volley of plasma, a twin repeat shot of slugs launched from the lizard's third set of arms blasted against the protective dome that covered his head and upper torso. The thick sphere like projectiles smashed in and cracked the casing. The second volley tore it apart into a half working shell by the time he could react.

"Osik." The Mand'alor cursed as he cut the blaster fire before activating the upward thrusters, killing the forward momentum. While the turning ability of the war droid wasn't as promising as the other vehicles he could pilot, the thrusters worked beautifully, and arched the droid a full few meters above the threat of the mammoth lizard. Only then trading out the blaster fire of the laser cannons for the forward frontal assault of eight shockwave generator rods that composed the nose of the beast. Yellow beams of energy ripped out, as the sonic blasts of them came in concussive force. Capable of tearing apart reinforced durasteel and even other more dense material. Plasma energy a saber could deflect, but the sonic weapons were a bane to the orders of the glow sticks, for they would simply curve around the blade and decimate what they were hoping to guard. Side thrusters on the droid began to pivot while Azrael locked on to spray blasts of the deadly beams upon his opponent.

Following up, to make the offense of his assault a continuous chain of events - Azrael un-clipped one force-breaker grenade and tossed it down below the beams of the shock rods. A minute device, inert for all purposes, except for the delay of a few seconds. The cloud of gas it would release after that time, spraying in all directions to envelope the local region they went to battle within. Inhalation of the gas itself would render the connection to the Force dampened for a solid four hour time frame. Needless to say, Azrael had come to dominate his competition and level the playing field with the bodies of those that dared attempt to overthrow Mandalorian territory. The gods may be their resource and resolve, but the Mandalorians feared no gods, they merely rose above them and issued their own purpose.

 

[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>​

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wew5cQnpMKc[/media]​

Riding into battle was a glorious thing. The flash of lasers, the beat of a war drum inside your own chest, the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. All of it made Azrael one happy combatant. 'Twas the ache of injuries that left him less pleased. Bruises could be handled, cuts could be wrapped, but the scars, ah, the scars always last. Old marks with some more fresh could still be seen. Upon his demonic face, seeming less like skin, more like mask, along his armor, worn, but not torn, and within the ridges of his horns. Had his hide not been covered, one would see how badly it had once been scratched by various blades, some like those which the man clasped. If this battle was not fought carefully nor ended soon... perhaps a last strike would lead him to his doom. But no! Such awful thought! He was a man of war, a soldier of the Gods, hardened, yet poor, yet ever ferocious! Here would not mark his grave. Never would his bones shake out of fear- he was not afraid. This would be a fight he would take to his last breath. Whatever attacks were pitched his way, no matter how great the attempt, would mean little him until his death. Some would be blocked, others taken in dismay, all of which would be returned, paid in full.

"Osik!" Yelled the Manda'lor, his voice reaching far. Understanding soon reached the lizard's ears. Some would hear the swear and think luck was on their side, or that the warrior would soon quit. Did the reptile assume he was to win the duel? Of course not yet! Azrael is no fool! So the mammoth started to move. Eight steps to the right with four or six to push him behind. Staying in one place during a fight was never a good idea. Unless said place was on top of a mighty killing machine. Then, well, perhaps it's a swell thought. In this case, however, it was not. First had come lasers... now flew the sound. Sonic waves were shot around. While the initial bits could be dodged, it would be mostly for naught, as the noise would bounce about, from trees to rock to ground... right back to the beast. He leaped quickly, dashing to the side, knowing the blast was not far behind. It rippled the air near his back. Even through his armor he could feel the movement. When will the weapon need to recharge? Unsure of things he let his legs push him along further. With short breaths he went to circle the war-droid. If the gun could go on for awhile... well, could it's pilot take the spin forever? Hopefully not.

Another iron was soon cast into the metaphorical fire: Force-breaking grenades. Or, in this case, merely one. That was enough to slow down even the toughest of Jedi, Sith, and their kin. First the object appeared to him as a thin speck barely visible to his weak eyes. The idea of what it could be snapped into his mind with ease. Instinct had him sending out a force push with his lowest left hand (it's partner on the right keeping a grip on the gun). As it turns out... that was a mistake. Doing so activated the device's inner mechanisms, causing the gas to start leaving it immediately, starting to spread out across the area. At first Azrael Asura assumed it was some sort of poisonous substance. Within seconds of inhaling the first bit he knew he had assumed wrong. Mentally cursing himself he started to hold his breath, pausing his circle cycle to jump over a nearby boulder, hoping to get a moment's cover. Should the man behind him keep firing the rock would be utterly destroyed. The lizard, however, would be given a second to get farther away from the gas. All four of his blades worked to cut down trees as he ran in a zig-zag formation. This wasn't him running away. This was him trying to shift the environment to is advantage.
{OOC: Tef started rhyming. I had to join in a bit.}

 

[Ebenezer]

OOC: Going to be onobile for about a week, so I will keep this simple.

Objective: C
Location: following [member="Laguz Vald"]
Enemies: Mandos
Allies: Primeval



It would have been nice to receive a bit more information as to what the team was actually doing here, but as usual, that information was proprietary to the assigned leader of this mission. He still couldn't help but wonder what was needed from a recently-abandonned husk of an extractor. His amphistaff layed curled up in what would be normally called his form's neck, patiently waiting until he would nudge it into action.

He didn't need the force to tell that a few of those amongst them were on edge, but it did take the force to feel the prying "eyes" of [member="Anija Ordo"] - but of course he could not tell from whom it orginated.

He stopped momentarily, "Wait, hold I sense a Jedi scrying us. Keep eyes open."

 

[Azrael]

Location: Wayland Jungles
Objective: Rumble in the Jungle
Enemies: [member="Azrael Asura"] | Primeval
Allies: Mando'ade
Mount: Bes'uliik
Gear:

Spoiler

• 
  E'tad Kal (on person)
  
• 
  BOAR.D. Railgun (on mount)
  
• 
  2x Ripper Mark II (on person)
  
• 
  M-25 River Gun (on mount)
  
• 
  4x Forcebreaker Gas Grenade (one on person, three on mount)
  
• 
  3x Sonic Detonators (two on mount, one on person)
  
• 
  2x Ysalamir in protective nutrient tubes (1 on mount, 1 on person)
  
• 
  Beskar'gam (on person)
  

Days before the fleet had lurched out of hyperspace tunneling, when he had received word from the Protectors about the incoming garrison of Primeval forces - a single thought had begun to plant the seeds that had formed this battle. The Mandalorians held a massive legacy spanning thousands of years into the past. They had survived through every conceivable outcome both on a galactic and personal scale. There was no doubt that they would survive this bout as well - however that wasn't the vexing concern on the half-blood's mind. They had met the Primeval before, at a very short lived battle over one of their stations near Muunilist. That was their first taste of the strength of their spirit, and the cause they rallied behind. Every army had their own heartbeat - some came for the power that conquest would bring, others fought for nobility and birthright. The Mandalorians had faced countless enemies, both large and small - and despite the tenacity of some; like the Vong's great galactic campaign, they had and would survive. This battle however was not about wiping out the Mandalorians - as it was doubtful that any faction could attain such a feat when it was a cultural idea that was spread. Wayland was home to a different kind of war, and whether it was actually truth or a hoax, the Primeval saw one thing; a holy cause. Very few things in the Galaxy were more damaging, and damning than religion - and the power of that persuasion was vast. Azrael had considered this for the coming battle, and had decided in only one outcome. There would be no surrender, there would be no prisoners. There was to be no mercy to offer their foes. They must wipe them out - all of them.

The beams of sonic emissions blasted apart the terrain with immense force. The energy imparted in anything in it's path tore the landscape to shreds - and for the cause it was justifiable to remove a bit of topography for the cause of the kill. This was not some structured duel or sparring match to the salvager - instead this giant lizard who bore weapons en masse was only an animal to hunt. He was the prey and Azrael was the predator - for which he was well qualified. The Shutual hunts were just a minor preparation, as he had captured and down far bigger foes than what he was faced with now. Asura was rather quick and nimble for such a lumbering beast, attributing to the fact of the Force's aide, the Mand'alor assumed correctly that his ability to maneuver and dodge was wholly thanks to such a boost of metaphysical prowess. Despite the straight speed of the war droid, it's ability to turn was far outmatched by the six armed assailant, and yet the force breaker grenade was attempting to make short work of that problem. Instead of staying to fight, when he could turn the tables on the inability to effectively turn, the beast dove in the opposite direction - tearing through the jungle for a different tactic.

"That's it, aruetii - viinir." Azrael said in the confines of a helmet system that kept his voice mute from the outside world. By the time he was able to maneuver his war beast to face the direction of the stampeding lizard - the shockwave rods had already finished their initial spray and were cooling down for a reset. They would not last forever, but in retrospect that never needed to. In proper planning, the salvager dropped two small metallic devices to the ground about two meters from his levitating height, directly on the jungle floor. From the arsenal he carried on-board, the BOAR.D railgun was lifted and pressed into the crook of his armored shoulder. A single silent command drew the range-finder over his crimson visor, and he took aim. A dull whine from the gun ticked off the seconds while the path of a zig-zag nature was recorded and plotted. Several opportunities awaited as the ground Asura covered lengthened. Inhale, trigger squeeze - and the shot was released.

Six, five millimeter rounds launched from the railgun at speeds that would dwarf any normal slugthrower or blaster bolt. The trajectory came to split the team of rounds into two separate factions. Judging from the pattern Asura would inevitably make, one side aimed for the back of the brute's neck where the most muscle mass was available. The ability to dodge all three would be a heavy risk considering both the force breaker grenade gas working it's magic, and the speed of these rounds. The second team, just off to the side at the same angle moved to shoot past the creature's path, and embed themselves within a low part of a log stump and a thick boulder. A few seconds went by for the beast to cover that ground before all six incendiary rounds exploded in unison to add insult to potential injury.

At this point the gear changed hands again, exchanging the BOAR.D out for the River gun, to which he lofted into his bionic arm and took aim, while firing up the thrusters to about twenty-five percent and moving forward. At any juncture where the mass of the beast came on his infrared vision display, a fully automatic volley of blaster fire. Plasma was not always the optimum thing to use against those with lightsabers, but considering the predicament he had already placed Asura into, getting out of this one was going to be a real challenge, because for Azrael - the hunt was on.

 

[Nolan Detta]

Location: Jungles
Objective Squish the Fire Shooter
Allies Vod
Enemies [member="Vheissu Ireles"]


Nolan slammed his boots hard into the dirt of the jungle, leaves and debris scattering all around. Unfortunately, the guy he'd aimed for moved from under his super secret squashing technique. The T-Visor turned to the bearded man in time to see fire errupt forth, aimed for Nolan. As quick as he could, the Mando flicked his HUD over to his shields and braced what he could to take the flame. Activating his pack again, he launched to the side as he could feel some swamp-ass brewing. The HUD blinked a warning of extreme temperatures and kicked on the enviro control to combat the flames. Leaves and trees set ablaze from the attack, Nolan fired again at the man as he ran at the Beard.

Nolan emptied the power cell and let the rifle fall on its sling, and launched his pack to boost him at the target. The distance was short and his speed was high, and the right crushgaunts was flying to say hi to the bearded face of the man.

"I came in like a Wrecking Ball!!"

As the distance was closed, the fist became a Fireball of Pain as Nolan activated his own flamethrower.

"Rocket Punch Attack!"

 

[Laguz Vald]

Objective C
Location: On top of Mount Tantiss [MAP]
Allies: [member="Ebenezer"] | [member="Jun Nez"] | [member="Token Waters"] | [member="Kiran Vess"] [via comlink]
Enemies: [member="Anija Ordo"] | [member="Graad Hokan"] | [member="Darth Wyrrlok VI"] | [member="Chaos Maxtor"] | [member="Verz Horak"] | [member="Briika Detta"]
Gear: TS-1

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQ0lE7e3yfk​

There were benefits — lots and lots of those — but also a wide range of downsides to being capable of turning into a rock on a whim. Or a bird. Or the handsome zeltron walking down the street in front of you. Or… well, you get the point.

In any case, the current downside the sniper was getting at was the lack of armor; once Laguz donned any form or type of restrictive clothing, xir options became severely limited, and if there was one thing that xe hated more than boredom, it was lack of freedom to do whatever the kark xe wanted to. If that meant xe had to go commando into enemy territory, so be it.

Another small sniffle — was xe coming down with a space cold? — and then the shifter turned to gaze at the slightly different patch of darkness among the harsh surface of the broken rock. Xe made a small, annoyed noise at the back of xir throat, clicking xir tongue as xe licked the backs of the needle-like teeth protruding from xir gums. The eyes Laguz had borrowed from the barabel came in quite useful — mother nature had a tendency of making instruments more precise than even the best technology had to offer — and the sniper had to agree with the drummer.

"Seems good to m—" the shifter stopped dumbly mid-sentence as a familiar voice yelled into xir ear, and it took a couple of seconds for xem to realize twhat was going on.

"The feth, Kiran?!" xe hissed angrily into the mouthpiece, suddenly assailed by the fun xir second-favorite killer for hire was having. A ping of jealousy blossomed in xir chest, but the shi'ido suppressed it quickly, glancing around almost sheepishly before marching off to the supposed entrance into the maze of shafts and rooms spread out through the bowels of the mountain.

"Babe, you're engineered for murder. Don't give me that chit," xe muttered into the comlink, brushing away the debris with xir foot. "Now go break their face for me, dear."

With that, the sniper crouched and traced xir long — too long — fingers around the edge of the hatch, sweeping away the rest of the detritus. It seemed they'd found themselves an entrance.

Excellent.

 

[Armand Temi]

Objective: B
Location: The jungle
Allies: [member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]
Enemies: [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Conner Garon"]

Gear: Chain-sickle, Primeval Advanced Agent Tactical Armor, Lightsaber, Battle mount

Perla watched from her branch high up off of the jungle floor as Xana lept up, using her last bit of will and strength, to grab at the Mando rocketeer. The witch cheered inside as she reached for his leg and shredded it, but the creature lost hold of him, and he maneuvered above her with his jump pack, dumping a round of those firey bugs into her hide. Perla closed her eyes. She could watch no more.

The rancor roared in pain and misery as the insectiles crashed into her skin, burning her hide and causing more surface damage. The beast crawled away slowly into some brush, and Perla mentally called out to Xana to hang on, trying to soothe her with the Force. She knew there were animal handlers nearby who had helped her get the creature ready for the battle, and she only hoped they could find her and begin to heal her. The spellweaver didn't relish the idea of going back to Dathomir to tame another bull rancor. She had nearly died just trying to train Xana.

But back to work, Perla thought, scanning the ground and looking back at log-pile she buried the other Mandalorian in. Feth, it looked like a hurricane had hit the jungle. He appeared to have extracted himself and was shaking off, grabbing his rifle, when suddenly three large trees came hurtling his way. Perla smiled. Jemmila was turning out to be a surprisingly capable ally. But while the Dark Jedi Knight was holding her own against both of these opponents, the trees hadn't stopped this hulking Mando yet.

Perla was born of the earth and sky. She had intimately been involved with Nightsister magic her whole life and had both practiced it and had occasionally fled from it, especially if a rival Elder Witch decided to strike you with a bolt of lightning for just looking at her the wrong way.

Perla concentrated on the ground underneath the Mando on the jungle floor. Not necessarily under his feet, but she focused on the two or three layers under that, where water pooled and the soil was moist, and there were possibly holes or pockets where the sediment was looser. Using the Force, she began to dissolve any traces of carbonate rock that lay under the ground. As she felt the earth dissolve, she pushed the soil water into the holes and to lay atop of the dissolving, soupy mess of mud she was making.

[member="Strider Garon"] would begin to hear a groan below him and the ground shift under his feet.

A giant sinkhole, about thirty meters in diameter, suddenly formed directly underneath him, and without a jump pack, it would be difficult to find his footing and climb his way out of it. If he didn't do anything at all, the large sinkhole would swallow him, trap him and possibly even smother him.

 

[Arumi Zy]

Location: Jungle
Allies: Mandos
Enemies: Primal Scum and Co

The jungles of Wayland were a stinking, festering wash of blood and primal scum. One of the strongholds of the Mandalorians and an important lane into the Mando Empire this world was important enough to fight to the death for. Thousands of Ori'Vod had joined the fray and were ready to destroy the enemy when they encountered them.

Arumi tracked through the jungle, his eyes locked dead and grim on the scenery before him. He was a cat on the prowl and he was craving the blood of the Mando' traitors who served the Prime, and their wretched overlords. His trench coat hid beneath it a bevvy of death and his mind a sharp razor blade that was ready to pierce the flesh of all of those who stood before him. He growled as he took cover behind a tree and began to survey the area around him. No targets in sight so far but he could smell them, he could always smell them and he could always feel his allies. That was his gift and that was his curse, that was what a thousand years of darkness would forge into oneself.

 

[Vilaz Munin]

Location: Fort Monroe
Objective: A
Allies: Mando'ade, [member=Draco Vereen], [member=Arrbi Betna], [member=Olivia Dem'adas] [member=Zathra Fett]
Enemies: Primeval, [member=Zambrano the Hutt], [member=Keira Ticon], [member=Anja Aj'Rou] anyone else I've missed
Objective: Repel
Gear: First post, fourth page.
NPCs

Spoiler

Force: Armatech Mythosaur Assault Unit
Objective: Repel and defend
Actions:
-Mythosaur is firing with main gun towards the Jungle where Prime units are.
-Half of infantry is going to guard towers and mount anti-infamtry turrets.
-Half of other infantry are heading to bunkers.
-Tanks are stationed inside the fort waiting for more orders.
Location: Inside Fort Monroe
Controller: Vilaz Munin

“Vod," the same Mandalorian said to Vilaz as he was behind him trailing him to where he went, “You're ordered to stay and lead us," he finished and waited what the Redneck would reply to him. No doubt, this order came from a Field Marshal or the Mand'alor who had more power than Vilaz himself. Due to the hierarchy system with the ranks of the Mando'ade a Rally Master always respected the command and obeyed the demand of a Field Marshal or the sole leader of the Mandalorian clans unless a feud wanted to erupt just for being disobedient. And so he would relay that order and lead this unit to defend against their uninvited guests standing on their soil.

So much for having a rumble in the jungle.

“Fine, I want that big ass mythosaur to rain down on the prime in the jungle. It'd be stupid of them to approach us on the path to the main entrance. Tanks, I want y'all to stay put till I tell you to move. Don't want to lose soldiers right now. Infantry, I want half of y'all to get on those turrets in the towers and shoot anything that moves, and the other half to them bunkers. Now, move it damn it!" With those orders the main artillery cannon of the Mythosaur began to fire on some section in the jungle that surrounded the Fort to see if damage could be dealt on their besiegers. Soldiers began to make their way to towers and mount on the anti-infantry turrets as well to the bunkers, and the tanks stationed themselves and were ready for orders.

If the Primeval wanted a war, then war they shall receive. One that'll shake them to their core.

 

[A 'den]

Objective: C, 3, or whatever it's called.

Location: Mount Tantiss
Allies: [member="Anija Ordo"] | [member="Graad Hokan"] | [member="Darth Wyrrlok VI"] | [member="Verz Horak"] | [member="Chaos Maxtor"] | [member="Briika Detta"]
Enemies: [member="Laguz Vald"] | [member="Ebenezer"] | [member="Jun Nez"] | [member="Token Waters"]
Gear:
• Beskar'gam (with a square beskar shield 41 cm long and 2.5 cm thick attached to the left forearm)
• Crushgaunts
• Beskad
• M-29 "Mythosaur" Grenade Launcher
• M-37 "Bwatha" Heavy Rifle
• 14 kilograms of various explosives

It had been quite a few years since A'den was active with the Mando'ade, he decided it was best to ease himself back into it. He figured Wayland was a good planet to do just that. But like many of this Mandalorian's ideas, it was a bad one. Which he was going to find out while he was patrolling around the mining platform.

When A'den heard the air raid sirens, he gripped his M-29 a bit tighter as he looked up at the sky. 'What the kark is going,' A'den wondered. He opened one of the Mandalorian's comm channels, trying to figure out what was going on. He listened for few moments to comm channels and then he closed it. One of the possibilities he was thinking was confirmed by the chatter over the channel. It was an invasion by a group that A'den was unfamiliar with. 'Why can't I ever go to a planet without something happening,' thought the Demolition Expert.

"Oya ner vode, I heard the alerts. Anija, why are you here at this mining platform?" said Field Marshal Verz Horak, who was one A'den's oldest friends.

A'den stood quietly keeping an eye out for any enemies, while the others talked.

 

[Vuhan Chen]

Location: Jungle
Objective: Rumble in the jungle
Allies: Mandalorians [member="Strider Garon"]
Enemies: Primeval [member="Perla Pirjo"] [member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]
Gear:

Spoiler

Conner Load-out
Armor
Weapons
Viccae Assault Rifle
Melee
Pistols
Tools
Ysalamari

The tree snapped at Conner and hit him hard, knocking the wind out of him and bruising a few ribs he flew through the air and began to take notice of things. His father who was still alive thankfully and the witch who appeared to be working some sort of spell to finish off his dear old dad. But one thing that concerned him the most was the woman with the trees, she hadn't thrown them yet and she was looking to bury his dad into a sinkhole that was forming beneath him. Yup, it was time to save his sorry ass. Because if he didn't do it then who else would?

So Conner as Conner hit a jungle tree he grunted in pain and gripped into a branch near him. This lizard was still alive and the bleeding in his leg was slowing, he'd have to put some biofoam on it after he was done here. But there wasn't any time to think about medicine, he had to save pops from becoming Strider stew with a garnish of jungle trees.

"Coming your way!" he yelled but somehow still in a cold tone in the confide of their secure comm channel.

The woman threw the trees right as Conner pushed off the tree with his jump pack in a straight line right towards his dad who was about to be swallowed or crushed. Rocketing forward against time Conner saw his opportunity, luckily he was a lot smaller than those trees and much faster he was able to get to his father first.

"Up and at em old man!" Conner yelled as grabbed onto his father's forearms and pulled with all his strength and the added momentum from the rockets.

Pulling his father out and rocketing away the trees came down with a massive thud barely missing the two of them as they cracked down onto the sinkhole. They had escaped death by a hair but they had other problems now. The jump pack wasn't meant to support two people, so with the added weight of a fat old leathery mando the two tumbled outside of the sinkhole and rolled thrift the jungle floor.

Conner however saw this coming and shifted his weight so he would come up holding both of his pistols. One in each hand In a high kneeling shooting position. With his HUD highlighting and tracking both targets he started to unload on the two darksiders guns blazing to keep them distracted as his dad got his wits about him.

 

[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

Rolling into position by the controller (me), twenty MIFV’s would take their time to situate themselves. This was for the Primeval, and they all had to do their part.

A rather bored expression would set itself behind the mask of the woman with the long ashblonde hair.

Power comes in. Power comes out.

Nestled in her area of observation, the deWinter gave a sigh.

The order for all twenty MIFV’s to deploy all twenty mass driver turrets at the base in question, intending to help concentrate fire with their allies to help soften the place for ground forces to hopefully eventually overrun it.

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

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 (lost), beskar'gam


The forest was on fire. So was Siobhan. Metaphorically. She saw the sparks of flame leap from tree to tree but paid them no mind at this juncture, for they did not threaten her yet. Rather she was focused upon destroying the Sith Lord before her. Darkness suffused and permeated the area around them as they both drew upon the dark power. It was probably only fitting that the forest was being gradually put to the torch and be bathed in flames.


As for her attire, ironically enough Siobhan had a very varied wardrobe back home that was actually filled with clothing one would consider proper for an "aristocratic lady", along with pieces one would associate with someone obsessed with leather. Verily, she was a bad Mandalorian!


She could feel her onslaught having an effect on the last Emperor, feeling the pain that was emanating from him. Based on her supposition her telekinetic attack should have resulted in his spine being kind of bent out of alignment at this point, so she kept up her efforts, hammering away with her telekinetic might. But it was clear that the Sith was not defeated yet when he unleashed his foul magicks.


She heard him utter the blasphemous words and, thanks to Mirien, actually knew what they meant since her lover understood Sith. No sooner had he spoken it before an overwhelmning feeling of dread and despair filled the air, a force of such malevolence that it was palpable and almost choking. Unleashed by his mastery of the dark side, tendrils of leeching energy began quickly approaching her much like worms. Wherever they passed, plants were completely and utterly drained as if he were sucking all life into him. One might be reminded of an energy vampire.


In this moment it was probably very fortunate for Siobhan that she had stopped flying. While the urge to retreat in such a way was there, presumably the draining onslaught would follow her and then the effect would be that she would be knocked out of the sky. Never mind the fact that she would be wasting lots of energy. She did not have the speed to make a fast retreat, not after her flesh leg had been mashed up again. What she did instead was stand her ground and draw upon the lesson [member="Phylis Alince"] had taught her so long ago.


Doing this required letting go of Kaine as she diverted energy towards defensive purposes since she had to focus on defence. She called upon the Force to wrap her in a protective cocoon and a shimmering barrier sprang to life, Force Protection. Meant to block the tendrils and deny them purchase upon her body, power and will. Obviously it was not perfect by any means. As the tendrils struck her she experienced a draining sensation and shook as she felt the malevolent power try to leech her, sapping at her willpower and the life that gave her fuel. She could feel it try to vampirically suck her dry and the barrier flickered most disconcertingly. Her mind reeled as her concentration suffered under the onslaught and all around her the folia died. Even the trees seemed perish as they became gnarled and ancient, then were soon stripped bare of all plant life and their wood looked like it had rotted.


Her face was contorted in intense pain as she sought to hold back the attack. Here and there cracks seemed to have appeared in her flesh for a few moments, her eye was ablaze with fury. I am the eye in the storm. Pain is just weakness leaving the body, she drew more upon her power, strengthening and fortifying her protection. Then she lashed out.


Cold rage and power built up inside her, a miasma of the Dark Side. The dark power was like a fountain and she greedily drank from it. She would not deny the siren call for violence. She pulled at the strands of the Force and a massive shockwave of telekinetic energy rippled from her and swept straight towards him. The tidal wave of telekinetic energy would hit with all the power of an overpressure shockwave from a bomb blast.


Between the two combatants the Force was fast becoming a nova, obliterating anything in their path that stood between them, as if its energies were responding to their mutual desire to annihilate the other. Trees had already started to catch fire, now this would intensify due to here and there a flaming tree being broken or collapsed from the impact of the telekinetic battering or be roughly uprooted and tossed towards the Butcher-King. Ideally the Sith Lord would be buried under a collapsing tree, perhaps even be ignited catch fire himself. Siobhan would be satisfied with his body becoming a mass of broken bones upon impact and him being tossed far, far away.

 

[Arrbi Betna]

Objective: Hold at all costs
Location: Fort Monroe - Central Complex - Hangars
Allies: [member="Azrael"] [member="Olivia Dem'adas"] [member="Anija Ordo"] [member="Draco Vereen"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Zathra Fett"]
Enemies: [member="Anja Aj'Rou"], [member="Boo Chiyo"] [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] [member="The Dark Man"] [member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Mard Szaks"]
Gear:

• 
  Myrkr Rifle (Standard and armor piercing ammunition)
  
• 
  Slugthrower Shotgun (Solid slug and Coin Shot ammunition)
  
• 
  Beskar-plated Chaavla Revolver (Standard, armor piercing, and Ori'shuk ammunition in speed loaders)
  
• 
  Vibroknives
  
• 
  Antique Beskar'gam
  

Unit: Mun'nynire
Strength: 100 marksmen + support personnel + 4 Shadlaar Cargo Haulers towing 4 Mobile Barricades
Objective: Hold at all costs
Location: Fort Monroe - Central Complex - Hangars
Controller: Arrbi Betna


The low roar of rockets drowned out almost everything Betna could hear and forced his helmet to dull all sound for a moment until the crescendo of explosions that resulted died down. Betna didn't pull his eye from the scope of his rifle, instead opting to stay focused.

That didn't stop him from speaking, however.

"Status report!" he called over the Mandalorian main comms.

"Damage to the hangar doors and external walls, nothing major," came the reply. The voice sounded a little high pitched, a typical reaction to adrenaline. Betna guessed it was some poor schmuck inside the hangar or nearby. "No breaches. That thrice-damned tank commander forgot to close the hangar doors on her way out. We just managed to close them before the first of the things hit."

"Understood, out," was Betna's only reply before swapping to the comm line of the tank commander in question. "You almost left the front door open, Alor Dem'adas."

The hangar doors being closed was crucial, but not overly so at this point. Anything in there was more or less sufficiently armored to weather a few rockets and light weapons. The main problem was any crews that were staging or perhaps damage to the infrastructure of the hangar itself. That would be the problematic thing as power was shut off to the vehicle bay, meaning the doors could not be closed more than likely. Betna hadn't designed the fort, nor had he been here when it was being built, but generally loss of power to a section of fortifications was a Bad Thing.

As the first of the enemy troops started to approach the minefield, Betna focused on the task at hand.

"Remember, priority targets first, rear ranks secondary."

While he spoke, he scoped in on a potential target. A small man in the field carrying a weapon slightly different than those around him. Betna brought the crosshairs down to the soldier and took it in at a glance.

Smaller being meant smaller target. The weapon wasn't typical of the rest of the soldiers and looked more built for precision. Two and two made an enemy Sniper. Could he be wrong? Possibly. But when one was a sniper, anything that looked out of place was a potential officer, leader, Jedi, Sith, NCO, or some unlucky soul that thought sticking a playing card in his helmet band was the greatest thing.

He adjusted for windage and range, making sure he was placing the shot where he wanted it: the neck or throat of the target. It was a flexible area and one where most armor didn't cover very well. With the proper adjustments made, Betna slowed his breathing. He silently listened to his heart and breath as he kept the weapon trained.

Time slowed and dilated. His vision tunneled in on his target. He could see, for the briefest moment, every small movement the target made. He couldn't see the enemy's face, but hand gestures, the movement of the shoulders, the set of stance.

People often forgot: sniping was just as personal as fighting blade to blade.

With his heart and breath synced, the range and wind adjusted for, and the aim placing the shot where he wanted it to go, Betna took the shot.

With a loud crack, Betna sent his first round of the engagement downrange at the boy soldier, [member="Boo Chiyo"].