Your Faith In Your Friends Is Yours | TSE Invasion of TRA Held Gree Hex

[WolfMortum]

​

​

Objective/Location: Orbit of Gree.​

Starship: Raider Class Assault Cruiser.​

Supporting: The Rebel Alliance.​

Opposition: [member="Vanessa Vantai"].​

​

​

​

The ETA-4 Interceptor shot out of the Assault Cruiser's primary hangar, veering around to soar passed the bridge before diving down and blasting it's way towards the World of Gree just moments before the responding transmission came in from the fleet commanded by [member="Vanessa Vantai"]. Vikras Ansion's expression looking grim as he watched his old friend descending towards the world at war, whilst listening to the commands of this self-declared Admiral of the Sith Empire.

"Errant Venture, this is the Sith Battleship Ablution. Your IFF codes do not match any known civilian vessel within or without Sith space. I find it extremely unlikely that civilian ownership would exist of a warship as powerfully armed as yours. We can keep pace with and outrun you if we have to. I demand that you power down your weapons and engines, heave to, and prepare to be boarded so we can verify your claims. Any attempt to outrun us, open fire on us, or to launch fighters, bombers, or any vessels will be deemed noncompliance and your vessel will be destroyed. Is this understood?".

The Admiral sighed under his breath. Those that served on-board alongside him had voluntarily done so, the odds had always been stacked against them and it would seem to be a losing Game. His decisions remaining were few; being boarded by the Sith did not seem all to comforting though given their numbers and the fact that they were operating at such a minimal capacity, perhaps they really good look the part. These days Vikras wasn't a commissioned Admiral, he held no official authority and only recognized by his experience, this vessel itself a Ghost and holding no claim to any greater power. Such was the intention behind Veiere's original design for the Dark Jedi Order. To bring no harm nor consequences down upon any other for the Order's actions, back then.

"This is the Errant Venture, Standing down" Vikras responded to the Battleship Ablution, "Boarding Procedures are underway".

Turning to the crew upon the bridge of the Errant Venture, they all seemed to be looking to Vikras for reassurance, that which he didn't much have. "Men, it's been a pleasure serving with you all" he told them, starting strong before giving them the run-down from there. "We're due to be boarded by the Sith Empire. We're outnumbered and outgunned but they've got nothing on us" the Errant Venture had as of yet, not violated any laws or regulations that Vikras could think of. Not a single shot had been fired from the Assault Cruiser nor would they even have the ability to keep up such a fight if they had with the minimal crew count they carried.

"Let's hope we've caught them on a good day, shall we..." Vikras mused with sarcasm, turning to head for the nearest airlock that he might meet the first of their guests personally.

​

​

​

"Three-Nine, see if you can find us a friendly frequency could you..." Veiere spoke to the Astromech that helped to pilot the Interceptor as they pushed down through the atmosphere of Gree. So far things were going to hell all too quickly; there wasn't a great deal of hope that he had for Vikras or the rest of the crew upon the Errant Venture. He hoped that his leaving them wouldn't further jeopardize their safety though finding a Force User on board would have surely seen them killed and possibly even held consequences reaching back to [member="Lady Kay"] herself. The Vessel and those aboard held no connection back home anymore, most of them had been labeled as significant threats to Commenor by mere association to Veiere and the Order on Rannon. An Order that today, had been left to reside within an empty Temple, led by no one. Another fallen ambition.

His intentions had been good, though most of the Galaxy's largest mistakes were paved with the best of intentions. Now with the threat of his friends being captured or killed, Veiere found his isolation within the small craft extremely claustrophobic. His thoughts were of [member="Romi Jade"] and [member="Aten Ramses"], they whom were affiliated with this Rebel Alliance though their whereabouts were Force knows where. "Any mention of [member="Cedric Grayson"]? The Jedi...Anything?" Veiere responded to the droids translated chips and expression of tones only another droid might understand without the primary console at the head of the little birds Controls.

"Send out a call on any Rebel channels you can trace. If someone's out there, maybe we can be of some use...-I'm far more comfortable on solid ground than I am in this junk heap".

 

[Judas of Vahl]

https://soundcloud.com/snuff-radu/doom-ost-bfg-division#t=0:25
Exact Location: Somewhere in Gree space, aboard the Technicolor Beat
Allies: [member="The Slave"], [member="Julian Valentine"], The Rebel Alliance
Foes: [member="Nixia Amabilia"], [member="Darth Arabris"], [member="Atlas Kane"], [member="Garen Kalkat"], The Sith Empire

The party boat appeared to be lost in a trance. Colorful smoke and neon lights entertained the tens of thousands within its belly, dancing and living out their darkest desires. Despite their apparent ignorance, the nature of the beast was far different than they had assumed. Bristling with hellbore cannons, throes of turbolasers and thousands of smaller weapons, the Technicolor Beat was a battleship if he ever saw one. Subtract the drugged partygoers in its bowels, it could've been one of the strongest in the galaxy.

Could've.

Thankfully, the fleet on the receiving end of the Beat's cannons didn't happen to possess the strongest either. He'd seen bigger.

"I was about to ask when we were going to jump into the fun!" The man roared gleefully, following goldilocks down the corridor. "You seem awfully angry today. Care to talk about it, say, over a little bloodshed and violence?"

A half-smile brightened his features for a moment. If only just for an instant, it seemed as if their dichotomous friendship had been reversed.

Silence quickly enveloped the two as hundreds of battle droids began to mobilize. Mechanized might shifted into action instantly, responding to each and every threat that Cybele perceived. Emergency response teams deployed to critically manned areas, just waiting for the chance to man point defense cannons and incinerate fighter craft.

 

[Ras Val'kor]

​

Location: Technicolor Beat Hangar Bay
Aboard: Technicolor Beat
Allies: [member="Garen Kalkat"] | [member="Atlas Kane"]
Enemies: [member="The Slave"] | [member="Judas Foster"] | [member="Julian Valentine"]
Music

Power through control, dedication through conviction. ​

​

Dominance through sheer will.​

​

The power of self.​

​

Iprotis was a creature of perfectionist ideals, always striving to see those who defied his purpose to be underneath him. Nothing was sacred, not even the lowliest of crimes or actions. There was no shame to be had in bloodshed, and none truly mattered if death was an inevitability.​

​

Iprotis was simply a ferryman leading those whom desired to go beyond their mortal coil, guiding them to a resting peace that they would otherwise not know. It all came down to perspective, and most would view the agent as a disgusting abomination - a mockery of life itself. ​

​

But he felt differently on the matter.​

​

The devils that terrify the galaxy and punish the weak were not doing so for no justifiable reason, but to free those that suffer - better likened to angels bringing righteous fury and guidance to lost souls. ​

​

​

​

As Iprotis prepared himself with a propulsion system and oxygen to spare, he shifted his shoulders as he gazed upon the ship he would soon board. With a last minute review of his gear and calibrations to his HUD, he awaited the airlock to open.​

​

After several seconds, the airlock disengaged and parted to the side, Iprotis launching himself forward from the HIM Tempestus. His breathing was calm and controlled, his eyes locked on the primary objective as it came closer. Within a short span of time, the agent found himself touching down within a hangar bay, immediately drawing his VP-9 and opening fire upon the droids within his vicinity; however, they appeared to be quite capable against a head-on assault. ​

​

He had arrived in the thick of action, and he relished it.​

​

Death was coming, and it had no bias. ​

​

All would kneel before the might of the Empire, willing or defiant. ​

​

With greater than average reflexes and agility, Iprotis maneuvered behind cover, accessing his comlink to reach his commanding admiral. "Unit ISU-8899R reporting from the Technicolor Beat's hangar bay, taking heavy fire. Proceeding forward with primary directive, keeping com active. Over and out."​

​

Iprotis grinned behind his helmet, rolling out from behind cover, unleashing a rapid succession of blaster fire. He was thereupon met with a similar animosity to his own, forcing him to evade and fall back into a defensive position. His armor wouldn't hold up against the multitude of droids and the types of weaponry they were equipped with, but he needed to press on. This could not be a hindrance.​

​

He couldn't afford it. ​

​

He only needed to override the control systems, but getting to them would take a bit of patience and work. ​

​

They were closing in, and he needed to move as quickly as possible. Staying to fight would be a poor decision, and it would be easier to face the machines in smaller numbers with less cover around. A risk, but the objective must be completed at all costs. If Iprotis were to lose this body, then that would spell the end for him forevermore. The body itself could receive damage and still be repaired, but it had its limits. ​

​

There was no more time. It was now or never.​

​

Taking pot shots as he sprinted from around a corner, Iprotis managed to confirm at least three kills. Where he was going from here was entirely unknown, as he did not possess the proper technology to map out his surroundings. He was running blind, but not afraid. ​

​

As he rounded another corner into a corridor, he was met with a small group of more droids that appeared to be quite similar to the ones seen inside the hangar. Breaking out of a sprint and into a slide, Iprotis fired upon the squad of four droids before they had the proper time to react and observe his movements. Each bolt that raced towards them, striking at least two in the head and the others within their chest cavity. Rising to his feet, he decided it was best to proceed with caution from hereon.​

​

He was the danger here, and he wished to make that point universally realized. ​

​

They were stuck inside with him.​

​

And he would be their reckoning.​

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

On Board The Dogged Hand - Lead ship of Assault Fleet Cinder.​

[member="Thyne"] [member="Kor Vexen"] [member="Khonsu Amon"] [member="Darth Voracitos"] [member="Alkor Centaris"]​

[member="Vestille Thumahra"] [member="Djorn Bline"] [member="Khaji Ri'Had"] [member="Wyatt Morga"]​

​

​

Wounds festering

Joycelyn had been personally harmed by the actions of these rebels.

- Not on their assault on Dubrillon, but their support of insurrectionists on Jaminere. It had lead to the Sith Knight enduring great amounts of pain, and while she had carried it with all the pride of a Sword of Vahl, she now wished only to exact her vengeance of a Zambrano. She brought all her insatiable hatred, all her desire for vengeance and vindication. In their suffering, she would rise to power, influence, and inevitably the station she most coveted.

The Dogged Hand - A Ferrata-Class Assault Carrier, spearheading a minor fleet named Assault Fleet Cinder. It was not a war fleet like the vast Black Iron, powerful like Gehenna, or as versatile as Vermillion Authority. No, Assault Fleet Cinder served a singular purpose of landing troops on the ground and holding the position.

Assault Fleet Cinder was the spark that slipped through and ignited the dry grass to cause a wildfire.

Joycelyn Zambrano did not attend the bridge, that was not her place. No, while she was a Knight of the Sith, she was also a Major in the Legion. She was, however, not anyone in the Armada. While she might have been able to throw some weight around with her name and rank, she knew that the secure landing of The Dogged Hand relied on the firm and experienced guidance of its Vahla-blooded commodore and crew.

Joycelyn's job would begin when the ship touched land.

We are about to enter atmosphere. Payload, report in.

The messages trickled into her com as they closed up the last of the Phi-Class dropships specially painted with the insignia of the squadrons she had unleashed upon Coruscant. They made up only a fraction of the vast carrier's capacity. Along it came legionnaires, engineers, and heavy cannons that towered over the Phis as they were hooked up to walker carriers and primed for landfall.

Assault Fleet Cinder was there to occupy Gree with Force if necessary.

"Dog Leader, reporting." she responded.

Her eyes set on her young half-brother, Thyne. He had saved her once, on Rhen Var, and she still couldn't believe it. He was small, and not the sharpest. Perhaps he was lucky? He was not a lucky charm. Still, she had kept him around. Perhaps war would toughen him up, sharpen his mind. Perhaps she could make a Zambrano out of him yet.

"Thyne, you have to wear your helmet." She gestured at the helmet on the floor "Trust me, you do not want to choke on toxic air."

Maybe.

The Dogged Hand primed for landfall on Gree.

 

[Onrai]

Allies: None
Enemies: [member="Veiere Arenais"](NPC)

The Ablution began to launch boarding shuttles that soon would enter the hangar of the Raider. Dark Troopers would quickly offload from the shuttles - as they encountered crew on board the ship, they would take said crew into custody, bringing them back to the shuttles. This would include the Admiral, who would be met by the Dark Trooper commander himself.

"You and the rest of your crew are going into custody. Another Star Destroyer has been dispatched to pick our shuttles up and remove us from the field of battle. You will all be interrogated regarding your purpose in this system."

Two Phase Zero Dark Troopers were working on accessing the ship's systems, identifying it as a vessel manufactured by Gyndine Shipyards. There was, interestingly enough, no data as to who the ship actually belonged to - the computer systems had apparently been deliberately kept in the dark regarding that. Whoever was truly in charge, however, had likely escaped in that fighter in question.

It was the transmission from Veiere's wayward fighter that did the trick - that clarified the ships' intent. "We've just received word the fighter that launched from your ship's hangar has sent a transmission out on known enemy frequencies. Based on this, we can assume you were in the system in order to assist the Rebels in defense of their territory. Consider yourselves prisoners of war now." The Dark Troopers would begin the process of depopulating the vessel as the Traya entered the system, also guided by the hyperspace trackers of the Massassis. Boarding shuttles, filled with dark troopers and their prisoners, would begin to leave the ship, heading for the hangar bays of the Traya, which would soon be removing them from the system.

A transmission would be sent to any forces on the ground, notifying them of the incoming arrival. The Ablution would have attempted to fire at the ship at long range with its super-heavy beam weaponry, but there were other things to focus on and other ships to seize. Scanners were still picking up the Defiance nearby, as well as a signal few had even bothered noticing.

The Technicolor Beat.

 

[Elijah Brockway]

Location: Gree Space
Aboard: HIM Tempestus
Allies: [member="Ras Val'kor"] [member="Atlas Kane"] [member="Vanessa Vantai"]
Enemies: [member="The Slave"] [member="Judas Foster"] [member="Julian Valentine"]
Engaging: The Technicolor Beat​

​

"Sir, the ship is turning!"

Garen's eyes narrowed, looking out at the Technicolor Beat. "Move us in the same direction as the turn, and keep the interdictor behind us," he ordered. "We'll trade away some of our turbolasers for saying out of the way of its heavy weaponry." The great ship lurched slightly, starting to move in the direction of the turn. Shortly afterwards, one of the weapons technicians started cursing, his fingers flying over his console quickly. Comms and sensor officers as well both started inputting commands at double speed. "What's going on?" Garen demanded of his officers.

"Sir, two escort ships just appeared on sensors," one of them responded. "They're attempting to hack the ship."

"Aye, they're jamming our comms and the weapons sensors!" growled one of the other technicians, before the weapons officer spoke up. "Sir, targeting lasers are still good; we can reroute controls to full manual targeting and counteract the effects of the hacking." "Do it," Garen commanded. "Do we still have local comms?"

"Tight-beam, sir," the comm officer replied. "No hypercomms, and we have to manually adjust to speak to each ship. No easy broadcast capability." Garen grit his teeth.

If there was one thing that his ships weren't prepared for, it was full-blown electronic warfare.

"Relay the situation to the Interdictor," he commanded. "All our captains are smart enough to know what to do in a battle situation regarding preserving formation. Have the Interdictor launch its squadron, I want the fighters to harass those escorts and take out all the sensor and communication equipment they can; after that, establish connection with our corvette. I want it to retreat at top speed until it is out of range of the jamming and can send orders to the rest of the battlegroup. I want them in here now."

The bridge erupted with a chorus of affirmatives as everybody moved to comply, before another officer called out; "Missiles, sir! Hard to target, but our flak turrets are firing at them!" Garen nodded; some of the missiles were caught and shredded by the flack cannons, small explosions forming in space while de-ionizers aboard the ship kicked in, dealing with the EMP blasts caused by the mis-directed nuclear explosions. Garen's eyes narrowed further. Those weren't normal missiles—

Then shield alarms blared as one of the missiles made it through the flak screen, the equivalent of numerous medium turbolaser blasts hammering into the forward shields all at the same time; thankfully, due to the positioning of the interdictor and the shield frigates, the brunt of the blast was absorbed either by the Tempestus's shield itself or by the projected shields. "Redirect shields double front," he commanded, walking forward to the very front of the bridge. "Are our weapons under full manual control yet?" The weapons officer, head sweating from continually inputting commands and counteracting the AI-directed hacking levelled at the ship, nodded, unable to speak.

"I want all of our guns that can to fire on that ship," he commanded. Within seconds, high-powered turbolaser blasts, ion cannon blasts, mass driver rounds, and hypervelocity gun fire started filling the space between the Tempestus and the Technicolor Beat, at near-broadside angles. From further back, a squadron of Sith-Imperial TIE Fighters streamed out of the Interdictor, before streaking off for the closer of the Twins, while the corvette disengaged from the squadron, turned, and started retreating at high speed.

"Launch missiles," Garen decided after a moment. "At the Technicolor Beat. No guidance, just input a timed detonation instead. I expect our weapons officers can reasonably calculate the optimal time until detonation; as it stands, if they can jam our weapons, they can probably find ways to jam our missiles as well. We're going to have to dumb-fire everything and soften up their particle shields that way. Start with concussion missiles."

Those were a bit longer to start finding their way out, but soon enough, missile launchers aboard the capital ship's side started to fire concussion missiles at the Technicolor Beat, the dumb-fired weaponry travelling in nothing more than a straight line as they sped towards their target. Further off, he could see other Sith-Imperial ships, and wondered if they were soon to respond to the beacon. Regardless, Garen allowed himself a tight smile.

This fight was bound to be an interesting one for sure.

Spoiler: Battlegroup: Panatha's Fist

Present at Gree:
1x Defoliation-class Siege Battlecruiser, HIM Tempestus
1x Incapacitator-class Interdiction Cruiser
3x Athena-class Shield Frigates
1x Vigil II-class Corvette

Waiting at staging area:
1x Harrower-class Dreadnought, Mk. III
2x Eradicator-class Heavy Cruisers
2x Shard-class Assault Frigates
1x Vigil II-class Corvette

Total Length: 10,100 meters

 

[Koda Fett]

OBJECTIVE:​ Secure Gree Technology Capture Miner
ALLIES: The Sith Empire
ADVERSARIES: The Rebel Alliance, [member="Amea Virou"]

There was only ever so much he could do.

Fett's sensors began to scramble, his HUD distorted and turning into a mess he hadn't seen before. It was distracting, it was staggering, it was the perfect distraction. He felt dizzy in that moment, unable to stand in his current stance. His left hand fell off of his blaster and onto the crate he shielded himself behind, attempting to gain balance before hurling the same hand's palm into the forehead of the helmet. If you hit electronics when they're glitching, they're sure to come back to work, right? At least, that's what he had seen before.

Meanwhile, Ailyn attempted to rise to her feet. Sitting upright for the briefest of moments before a Tonfa sliced through the air and impacted her directly in the chest. She spat forwards with an 'oomph', all the air in her lungs departing within an instant as an intense pain arrived in that region. Slumping backwards and out of the fight, whether unconscious, dead, or simply hurt was unknown. She didn't get back up, that was for certain.

Things either returned to normal, or the Bounty Hunter was able to adapt to his newfound sensors. Amea would have to guess in that moment. Koda had a strategy to face those more... adept combatants. The kind that knew their way around a specific type of weaponry, especially the kind that involved getting up close and personal. Typically reserved for the Jedi of the Galaxy, however. His jetpack spat flames violently, hoisting him into the air and well above Amea as she closed the distance.

​With the Gree Technology destroyed, he required someone that had the knowledge of such a thing. That meant capturing one of the miner's, and he had a feeling that this one knew more than most. Entirely plausible that she didn't, for this was purely instinctual. If she wasn't so willing to being subdued, however, Fett may be forced into killing her, if given the chance.

As he soared throughout the air, he his eyes remained glued on her. Ailyn was down, but she couldn't be dead- he wouldn't believe it, maybe refused to. His Carbine's firing mode had been switched onto stun and a volley of stun rounds were being launched in the direction of Amea. Intent on incapacitation.

 

[Kahne Porte]

​

Location: Pantera-class Stealth Frigate Nightshade
Allies: @Valkren Calderon [member="Jyoti Nooran"] [member="Varex"] [member="Allyson Locke"] [member="Kamon Vondiranach"] [member="Yuroic Xeraic"]
Enemies: @Darth Carnifex [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Taeli Raaf"] [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] [member="Preliat Mantis"]

It wouldn't ever stop and to that end neither could they. The Sith Empire's Invasion had come swiftly and from there the Jedi Kahne Porte had joined up with members of the Silvers to help rid their presence from these worlds. The Jedi donned in his armor and a cloak to cover as he listened to the orders and what needed to be done. Kahne was by no means a space man, he would heading to the ground level as soon as he could.

"May the force be with you my friends." The Jedi stated as he nodded to them all and would make his way towards the hangar, perhaps meet up with the others and head planet side together. Kahne knew that other Aliance in Exile personnel would be engaging the Sith too, and he hope with all his might they would be alright, just as hoped that he would too. The Jedi looked down to his side at his lightsaber attached to his side, not his one from before but just a standard lightsaber, as he had yet to create his new one. He was sure once this battle was over it was something he was going to do.

 

[Atlas Kane]

Inside the Hangar
Serving the Sith Empire with [member=Darth Arabris], [member=Amun], [member=Ras Val'kor], [member=Garen Kalkat] and [member=Nixia Amabilia]
To eliminate the Rebel Alliance, [member=Judas Foster], [member=Julian Valentine] and to capture [member=The Slave]


It was when the first alarms went off that he knew he had to proceed with the plan. Keeping up appearances as an ally of the eccentric owner of the vessel would likely allow the Sith strike team to ensure a more complete victory. The element of surprise was a valuable commodity which shouldn't be taken lightly. If he revealed his true intentions too early he might rob the entire operation of a more efficient avenue of ending the battle. He'd have to keep up the charade of being on their side long enough for his allies to catch up to him, though that meant walking into the Tuk'ata's den alone and deceiving, or at least misleading, it long enough to make sure he gets out alive.

"Chit." He hissed through his mask. "They tracked me. I had hoped we'd have more time before they showed up." His voice noticeably agitated as emotion surged through him.

There was a flicker of fear before anger overtook him. Allowing the emotion to course through his very being, he burst out in anger, violently shoving the droid standing next to him into the interceptor with a blunt application of his strength in the Force, causing a dent in the ship's weakened hull. A groan immediately followed the outburst, as did stillness. It took several deep breaths before he managed to collect himself again. After quickly dusting off his robes, he stormed down the familiar path to the bridge. It wasn't uncommon for the Slave to break one or two of his own toys, that leniency fortunately extended to the actions of his friends as well.

"I'll be on the bridge." His voice sounded a lot more controlled, calculated even. Anger was still palpable as he made his way out of the hangar, but it was restrained and kept caged.

As he passed the doors to the first of many corridors, the anger faded and gave way to a calculating mind again. The crew complement of the ship was something he was vaguely familiar with. He knew there were thousands of droids aboard whose interference would cause the progress of all other teams to be hampered considerably. There needed to be a distraction, something to draw away enough of the droids to make the fighting easier on his team and the other Sith joining him aboard the vessel. As he walked the corridors towards the bridge, faint blaster fire echoing through empty halls behind him, he noticed something. That familiar vibration coursing through his legs, it was gone. The eternal celebration had taken a short break while technical difficulties were being resolved. Perhaps it was time for it to cease entirely.

With a calm mind, he reached out with the Force to the decks below him as he walked, probing the minds of the civilians caught on the vessel. The anger and aggression present had faded from his mind, the temporary surge of emotion had hopefully done its job to misdirect. Now his efforts were focusing on finding emotion below, specifically two kinds. Fear and anger. Both were present. Many of the civilians were quite annoyed at the sudden stop to the party, others frightened by it, a few even angered. The tangle of emotions within the massive crowd of people gathered was powerful, though it was also dangerous. Isolating individuals within the haze of passion was not easy, but all he had to do was find the flames that burned brightest and with a single action, one small push, start a forest fire.

Minds averse to a certain course of action were tough to manipulate, their stubborn resistance needed to be overcome through sheer force of will. Those already inclined to act upon the desires of someone nudging them in a particular direction, however, only needed a light push. Those most outraged, most angered by the sudden change in mood were the ones he targeted first. A few times he gave their minds the tiniest nudge to give in to the red haze, to act upon that most basic and destructive of sentient behaviour. With luck, they would. Then he turned his attention to those whose fear he could sense the most. Their minds were filled with doubts, concerns, and contradictions. A soft push, a quiet confirmation of their deepest fears. Yes, that hound was real. That Trandoshan was after you this entire time. The smallest things could set a person off during scenarios of immense stress. A few outbursts of emotion in a room laden with tension so thick it was nearly palpable could set off a fuse that would bring the entire, metaphorical powder keg to burst. He hoped this one would blow up right beneath his feet.

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Location: Pantera-Class Stealth Frigate Nightshade, ​

Objective: Wait for a call to action.​

Assets: First Ranger Special Tactics Unit​

Nearby: [member="Kahne Porte"] | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"]​

_______________________________________________________​

Colonel Calderon puffed on his cigarette once before taking a strong drag of the addicting habit. His arms were straight out from his sides, allowing a tech to assist in some issues with his Katarn combat armor as he stood there. All around him stood rangers hailing from his own 'Radama Raiders,' a company's worth atleast of them. Each operative was busy in their own way, double checking over their armor systems or weapon kits, or speaking with their squad leaders for details on their operations and rules of engagement.

The tech specialist took a step back once he was finished, giving Valkren a thumbs up before moving on to assist the next soldier that needed help.

Valkren removed the cigarette from his lips, tossing it and advanced further into the group of rangers, each soldier claiming their own spot on the hanger floor to check over all of their equipment.

Soon, he'd encounter the key members of his command squad, and some of his closer friends in the rangers. Specialist 'Johnny' Lowder was busy his own way, fully armored with the same set of katarn armor aside from his helmet, but kicked back on a set of crates with his boots in the air. A pair of ear buds in his ears told the colonel that the younger specialist was taking his time pre-mission to enjoy some tunes, hype himself up in his own way. Valkren would often do the same if it wasn't for other rangers who blared their heavier music in hangers like these.

He'd move to let Lowder be by himself for the moment, approaching Lieutenant Konrad Harris, his XO. Harris was busy tinkering with his own rotary cannon, with their communications specialist Corporal Bowers looking on.

"Don't think you're tightening those bindings strong enough for the barrels, sir." Bowers spoke out, practically looking over the shoulder of his commanding officer.

"I know what I'm doing, boy." The lieutenant huffed out at the younger soldier's remark and waved him off.

Valkren chuckled, moving to sit himself down beside the group, setting his assault ripper down on the crate beside them, helmet too.

"Platoon leaders are assigning yslamir kits to their squad leaders, setting up squad composition and assigning groups to their correct stealth drop ships. Every soldier is double and triple checking their kits.. Even hearing some bets between some soldiers about kill counts. Seems like our boys want some payback." Valkren remarked this as he looked around at the large group of Antarian Rangers, eyes locking onto a select squad of rangers who were applying face paint and eye black below their eyes like they were in tribes or participating in some type of sport.

"They've wanted payback since the Sith stepped foot on the shores of Kashyyyk, boss. They've been waiting for this moment." The lieutenant spoke up, lifting up his rotary cannon as he stood to test the weight of the weapon.

"Rebels have too..Heard a group of 'em talking, almost like they were expecting it to happen." Bowers shifted his gaze from the lieutenant to Valk.

The colonel shrugged. The communications specialist was new to his unit, a replacement of their old comms expert who perished during a recent operation. Due to his greenness, Valkren could understand the surprise at the calm demeanor of so many in the face of the Sith..But this is what they did. He'd have to get used to it.

"Check over your gear again. Konrad, grab Lowder and check with the platoon leaders again, be sure they have everyone assigned to the correct transports. Get us some of that warpaint from those fellas over there, too."

The lieutenant only smiled and shook his head, setting down his heavy weapon to get Specialist Lowder and follow through with his orders. Afterwards, Valkren turned about, looking to the entrances to the hangars from the innards of the ship. He'd reach to his earpiece, tapping it once to send out a transmission. He'd soon have to contact Master Nooran about the droid units that would be supporting their unit, but for now, he had to reach out for the Jedi he knew that would be accompanying him.

"Yuroic, you there? It's Valkren, we're over here getting prepped in the hangars now."

Soon after he spoke up, his eyes were drawn toward another Jedi who was on his way into the prep area.

Allies: [member="Varex"] | [member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Kamon Vondiranach"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Kahne Porte"]

Enemies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Walking the halls, considering genocide as an option...

Allies: [member="Judas Foster"] │ [member="Julian Valentine"]
Foes: [member="Ras Val'kor"] │ [member="Atlas Kane"] │ [member="Darth Arabris"] │ @Amun │ [member="Nixia Amabilia"] │ [member="Garen Kalkat"]

The shields were strained as the innumerable weapons of the HIM Tempestus rocked against The Technicolor Beat’s shields, a rising assault that was hindered only by the EWAR forcing a greater reaiming process between volleys. Every second that passed, the ship was in greater and greater danger; and had to begin to exchange shots if nothing else. Dozens of massive ion cannons orientated themselves as they fired in synchronized bursts; massive ionic shellings that could devastate any ship.

Turning however, was the true goal of the vessel. Its movement was quick, and the relative speed of the two craft compared with their size difference made it all the better. It’d take longer to line up a shot, but it was only a matter of time; to Cybele’s enjoyment nonetheless. However, the inner workings of the ship were another story;

As Atlas drew on the fear and anger of the party goers in the belly of the ship, thousands began to rise up; drawing even more power from Cybele’s processors as she began to focus on quenching the rebellion. Worse than that however, was how large of a passenger count was on board.

Thirty thousand men, women, and aliens were beating each other to death as they surged through the hallways to their rooms, or their ships. They wanted nothing to do with this, and thousands of droids were sent out to meet and do what must be done to resist the riots. Key areas of the ship were locked off by internal defenses, and those inside were subjected to nothing less than lethal force if they broke containment.

Their footsteps alone could be felt through the ship, and those droids left in the hangar began to feel the pressure as reinforcements were diverted to resist movement any further into more restricted areas of the vessel, giving the boarders an opening that should have never been.

[member="Garen Kalkat"]

---

“Riot on Passenger Decks 1 through 4, John.”, Cybele informed him over the intercom.

“They aren’t important. Kill anyone who threatens the defense of the ship.”, he responded.

The Slave held his helmet tight against in his white knuckled grip as him and Judas strolled along, all around them the perfect storm brewing. The fleet, the riot, ships inbound to board, all of this was done to perfectly, too well timed. Was security somehow not enough?

Gritting his teeth, the two opened a door only to meet Atlas’s gaze. It took a second, but at his sight, The Slave let some tension fall from his tightly wound shoulders; a sigh leaving him as he shook his head;

“Atlas. I’m glad you’re here.”, he spoke with annoyance now, more than anger.

“Something’s not right, and I’m going to figure out what. Mind joining me and big guy here to lynch an admiral?”, motioning to Judas with his thumb.

With that, he began to walk further into the vessel, to one of the hangers not yet overcome with enemies nor rioters. With some distance still left between there and here, he quietly contemplated what his next moves would be.

“John, enemy forces have been sighted in Hanger 2. Looks like that’s where most of the ships are heading.”

The Slave stopped, glancing up to Cybele in silence, before turning to Judas.

“Judas, mind dealing with that? Don’t let them into the ship.”

“You know my standards.”, he said with the faintest of grins.

[member="Atlas Kane"] │ [member="Judas Foster"]

---

In the hangar, things weren’t going well for the defensive forces. There may have been minimal targets on board thus far, but the hangar was never meant to be the defensive position; as almost all security and fortifications implemented had been placed closer for bar fights, infiltrators to key areas of the ship, and riots; such as now.

The real problem was that there simply wasn’t enough manpower any longer to hold it as more Sith troopers boarded the vessel; with South Star’s fighting tooth and iron nail against odds that were quickly stacking against them. Shots rang out to an almost deafening degree as two made their way towards a flanking position behind this Ras Val’kor.

Burst rounds filled the empty space as their Jaeger brand ACR’s broke blue; sending charric laser bolts to his position with an expert aim, supplemented by the sensors of the ship. Each AI had well done tactics actively monitored and adjusted by the AI once dedicated to fleet management, now nothing more than a glorified general inside her own body.

More settled in, as on a balcony with some minor durasteel plating, another droid set up a Hellfire chaingun, and began raining down unrighteous hell on the various men who boarded. The hangar had quickly turned from a vacation resort’s entrance ramp into nothing more than a horrendous bloodbath; a place where men would know no peace.

[member="Ras Val’kor"]

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: Acerbitas, Hanger Bay
Equipment: Raiment of the Vigilent, Vader's Bane Lightsaber
Allies: [member="Belphaegor"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"], Sith Empire
Enemies: [member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"] [member="Cedric Grayson"], TRA

​

The hanger was ablaze, blaster bolts flying through the air, explosives going off. Battle was all around them, and Kyrel couldn't help but grin as the Sith reaped carnage across the Hanger. Of course, they were here not only to take the ship and turn the tide of this rebel band, but to also steal vital information, but that was not his purpose no, that was only the purpose of he was with. The Sith being in the form of a woman he felt familiar to, her apprentice and a rodent of sorts. He didn't question as to why a rodent was with them and only assumed that he did not care to know or even ask at all.

However, as he cut his enemies down his rage only increased and became a from a flame to a raging inferno. His enemies screams and cries made no difference, his blade demanded blood and its thirst was soon quenched upon the rebel soldiers. All of a sudden his powers became heightened, his rage elevated and now he almost felt unstoppable. He felt empowered by this new source of strength and continued his rampage.

Upon hearing the apprentice's words, he decided to aid in the Sith's efforts, and carve a path straight through the hanger. To the nearest exit, there were squads and squads of Rebel troopers, not to mention several turrets that were manned by them as well. The Overlord of Ren concentrated from within and focused on his rage as he raised his blade towards the rebels uttering out. "All I am surrounded by is fear, and dead men." He said as he charged forth, blasters firing at him from every soldier in his path.

Those that were in his path, unleashed volley after volley of blaster fire, Kyrel did his best to bat the ones he could with his saber, taking a few shots to his armor. His armor sparked but wasn't penetrated and couldn't by conventional blasters alone. The closest ones he reached, he decapitated, then proceeded to bisect another pair. One of the turrets proceeded to lock onto him, to which he proceeded to use one of the rebels as a human shield. The rebel a human male adorning a look of horror before rounds of blaster fire ended his life.

Kyrel then proceeded to quickly throw his saber towards the turrets, destroying them, before using his speed with the aid of the Force to quickly dispatch the next set of Rebels, managing to clear a path to the nearest door. Seeing the Jedi overhead, he had this profound desire to kill him, his natural impulses wanting to murder the Jedi. But he refrained from doing so upon that the Sith Apprentice would do so, and thought it would be best for the group if he attempted to go further into the ship and be a distraction, reaching the door he attempted to get inside unseen, and hopefully cause havoc inside the ship. Giving an opportunity to the rest of the boarding party.

 

[Saris Aren]

Location: Moving towards the target
Allies: [member="Atlas Kane"] [member="Ras Val'kor"] [member="Amun"] [member="Nixia Amabilia"]
Foes: [member="The Slave"] [member="Judas Foster"] [member="Julian Valentine"]


The time had come, the ship was taking fire, and if one felt with the Force, disarray was erupting on board the Slave's ship. It was the signal to head in. It was the answer to the lady's question on when they would be in the fray of battle.

"The time is now. Amabilia prepare yourelf."

Arabris turned around to look down at his mount, that massive reptile of muscle and anger. Already it was awakening to the trembles of the Force that were being sent out, and the ruffles of feet moving in the bay. People were coming over to quickly, but with gentle hands, place the heating pack and rebreather on the animal. The entire time, Arabris stared into the eyes of the beast, commanding it to be still, and allow this to happen.

If one paid close enough attention, acceleration of the thrusters could be felt, subtle, but there. The knight picked up his shield, and halberd while the crew members finished up Otep's needs to survive the plan of attack. It was at these times that Arabris felt most alive, felt most useful to his Empire, to his Emperor.

Seconds that felt more like hours passed as the desired destination was reached and the bay doors released to reveal a large battlecruiser closer than most of the crew were comfortable with. Arabris hopped onto his mount, the strength of the fleshy fibers that made it's muscles flexing and hoisting themselves to hold him and the beast they belonged to up.

"Otep, we ride for the Empire, we ride for our Emperor! HIYA!"

One kick to it's sides gave command to move, to dash forward. While for most people this was a suicidal thing to do, it was Arabris' idea of a surprise attack. Sounds of Otep's claws clanking across the metal floor echoed as all were quiet and in awe at the concept of this large man and beast dashing towards open space. Shields were the only thing keeping he vacuum of the void from sucking everyone out, and there was the Red Knight, passing them in one majestic leap of confidence.

The momentum of the leap forward pushed the two through space, slowly, but never stopping. The sounds of silence filled the Nagai's helmet, it was peaceful, but the scenes around him were violent, and colorful. One hand reached out, gripped the beams that held the enemy bay in tack through the Force, and yanked the two beings faster towards the ship, and before anyone knew it, they made it in.

A thud coursed through both their bones as they landed without stopping, Otep racing in dashing speeds after teh first metallic target before them. It rammed straight through it, parts of machine flying all around in a shower of already lifeless death. His mighty halberd swung from side to side as they ran deeper into the hangar bay of the Technicolor, breaking machines, and slicing flesh. Sparks of orange mixed with blood of reds and blues and greens. The Red Knight did not discriminate in his dissection.

 

[WelshPsych]

Location: Pantera-Class Stealth Frigate Nightshade.
Objective: Get prepped before mission
Allies: SJO & Rebels. [member="Valkren Calderon"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Kahne Porte"]
Enemies: Usual Sith scum

Yuroic was in his small cabin, isolated far from everyone else. He had initially joined the mission for some pilot training for his custom ship, however, news hit soon after they arrived that the Sith Empire were launching an invasion strike against the small band of rebels. Instead of the pilot uniform, he donned his personal armour, flexing his robotic arm as nerves hit. Last time he faced the Sith Empire like this was on Mirial, Mirial did not hold good memories. There was his voice screaming at him for revenge, bloodlust, brutal slaughter of all Sith scum. He couldn't allow this time of distraction, he needed to be calm of mind. One thing called to him.

After a large dose of spice, Yuroic leaned back and looked after to ragged man facing him in the mirror. His eyes bloodshot from spice use, drink and lack of sleep. His hair was cut poorly, looked like he cut it himself which was what happened. His beard was growing wildly and there were heavy bags under his eyes. Yuroic didn't feel fresh or healthy looking at that strange man in the mirror but he could start feeling the bliss sink in. Valkren called Yuroic on the comms, asking for his status. Checking his had his energy bow, arrows and lightsabers, Yuroic tapped his comms. "Hey up Valkren, all geared up now. Be making my way to ya, will grab the others too if possible." Changing the channel he contacted Allyson first, "hey Allyson, think Valkren is itching to ki some Sith in the hangar with his boys. Making my way down too." Then to the stranger to him on this mission.

"Hey Kah... Kahne? We're nearing go time, best to head down to the hangar and meet up with Valkren and his company." Yuroic called as he switched his comms off and headed down towards the hangar himself. He could invest in a flask, he could use a drink right now.

 

[Thyne]

​

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Kor Vexen"] | [member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="Darth Voracitos"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"]​

[member="Vestille Thumahra"] | [member="Djorn Bline"] | [member="Khaji Ri'Had"] | [member="Wyatt Morga"]​

Thyne was far from comfortable.

He was a curious thing, with an inquisitive mind and a penchant for the melancholy. One might say his general aloofness set him apart from others, siblings included, and not necessarily in the best of ways. He tried to fit in as best he could, jumping in to help whenever he was allowed, yet the boy always found himself focussed on the 'why' and 'how' more so than the action itself, often leaving him slow to the punchline.

That didn't stop him from trying, proving himself as an effective killer at least whilst working independently, reporting only to a keeper of sorts or two. After all, he was still the property of science. Outside of excursions such as these, he still found himself under near-constant surveillance. Perhaps that played into his actions now, the boy quite content with simply standing out of the way til told to do otherwise. Better to be directed than to risk improvisation making situations worse.

"Thyne, you have to wear your helmet."

Joycelyn's direction snapped him out of a moment of thought. He glanced at the helmet, nose scrunching in a disgust not normally displayed by the boy. His head ached, normally unkempt hairdo tightly braided out of his face, at the hands of his half-sister despite his protests. No, anything he had to say on the matter was promptly ignored, met with only a barked order to quit squirming. And now she wanted him to wear one of those things.

"I don't like them." He started with a rare display of defiance, picking the helmet up with only a couple fingers. "They're stuffy and you can't see anything with them. You can't tell one person from the other when everyone's wearing them, it's only asking for friendly fire. There's nothing stopping some rebel from just swiping a helmet and claiming their coms are broken." His tangent spilled out in one breathe, leaving the boy in need of a moment before continuing. "Do I have to?"

 

[Amea Virou]

Enemy: [member="Koda Fett"]
Location: Gree, Ground

---

Teeth gritted Amea’s approach, but the impact she expected never came. She threw herself towards the bounty hunter but found herself face down on the dirt. A grunt split her lips into a grimace as the sensation of air being gently knocked out of her lungs forced her to exhale against her will. Judging by the hiss in the air he had taken off with a jetpack. Amea rolled her eyes, that was just great.

A salvo of blaster fire cried out and Amea had little choice other than rolling out of reach. The rough pats against the ground told her that the hits were close, the man’s aim was deadly and for a brief second she was feeling the burden of being on the receiving end of his intent. He was good, she was good, and so far it was an even playfield despite their differences. Or maybe that was what she told herself to feel better about the fact that he had been on top of her every move so far.

Pushing off of the ground to get herself off the dirt and grime a third time she reached out towards one of her dead associates to pull their blaster into her hand. With a quick spin of her heel she took aim at the man’s center of mass and pulled the trigger.

“We tried to be reasonable!” She cried out against the sounds of chaos around them. “We told you to leave.”

“These men and women have already lost everything because of your actions.” Amea tried to reason with him. “Leave.”

 

[Kahne Porte]

Locationantera-Class Stealth Frigate Nightshade
Objective-Ready up
Allies: [member="Valkren Calderon"] [member="Allyson Locke"] [member="Jyoti Nooran"] [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] [member="Kamon Vondiranach"] [member="Varex"]
Enemies [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Taeli Raaf"] [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] [member="Preliat Mantis"]

To say that it was busy would be quite an understatement. The area was bustling with activity as everyone was trying to get where they needed to go and report to whoever they needed to report to. Which was quite obvious due to the fact that they would be engaging the enemy soon, and Kahne was ready to do so when the time came. His comlink went off as heard the voice of Yuroic through the comm system at which he showed a small smile and chucked lightly.

"Copy that Yuroic, I'm already en route, make haste or we might leave you." The Jedi said in jest as he was about to enter the hangar and truth was they were just prepping as he was sure that information was given to Yuroic already. The Jedi's boot could be heard lightly across the floor of the vessel as he neared Valkren and gave a respectful nod and small bow. Kahne extended his hand out towards Valkren to shake his.

"Kahne Porte, it's gonna be good to fight beside you my friend." The Jedi said easily enough while introducing himself all together. Kahne had fought with the Silvers on a few occasions but not recently, and he had heard of Valkren's feats and he was glad he was with them.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Despite all the desolation that surrounded it, the Capital City of Gree was a technological marvel. By all accounts, it was far more advanced than much of the tech that made Mandalore so mighty. Fortunately, the Gree had no interest in conflict- or so they believed. There was no trace of anything that hinted at war machines when they pressed into the emptied streets, but more than that, it was obvious that the Rebels had moved first. Securing the civilian population was a clutch element for control in this sector, so they would have to move quickly to prevent a strategic victory for the OpFor.

"We have a situation," Alkor announced across the Sith channel to everyone nearby. "Rebel forces have begun to move the Gree. Stand by for confirmation and engagement."

The reality was that they could be far, far behind. With the Rebel occupation of the entire sector, they could have moved the people in question days prior to the Site incursion. His HUD told a different tale, however.

"Heat signs are registering recent movement," he muttered as he crouched low and took stock of their surroundings. The Mandalorian moved closer to the nearest abandoned structure and glanced inside. "They left too many things behind," he observed. "If they had time for a full scale exodus, they would have taken everything that wasn't bolted down."

He turned back to the Stormtroopers, already busy setting up a perimeter and preparing to push further into the settlement. "You," he pointed to one, then another, "and you. You're with me. We're going to scout ahead and see if we can't run into some flighty Rebels."

They both offered stiff salutes in response.

"The rest of you, hold this position until our reinforcements arrive."

[member="Thyne"] [member="Kor Vexen"] [member="Darth Voracitos"] [member="Vestille Thumahra"] [member="Djorn Bline"] [member="Khaji Ri'Had"] [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] [member="Veiere Arenais"] [member="Wyatt Morga"]

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Allies: TRA​

Enemies: TSE​

Suicide Squad: [member="Avoim Oeymo"] | [member="Kamon Vondiranach"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Kahne Porte"] | [member="Valkren Calderon"] | [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] ​

Engaging (eventually): [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] | [member="Kaalia Pavanos"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"]​

​

Asation Swamps​

Jedi Loyalist Strike Team​

​

​

I would not be so overconfident, Varex countered, seemingly unphased by Kamon's implied threat. But he deactivated his energy blade, I am a Shadow of the Inquisition, it is my duty to understand all manners of deception. It was not your aura, but your body's vibrations against the hull deck upon reentry that gave you away.

The Vaemath had been taught from birth never to back down from such a challenge, but against a Jedi blademaster even with their numerical advantage he was forced to privately concede there may be some truth to Vondiranach's boasting. Grief over his actions still consumed him however, and it was far more preferable to use this rogue for his own ends than to kill another servant of the Light.

It was a rough landing, dense fog and swamp cover had forced them down many kilometers away from where he had last sensed the Deceiver. Wordlessly each Jedi exile leapt from the dropship and started advancing into marshland towards a disturbance all of them could now clearly sense. It took Colonel Varik a few moments to catch on, but eventually he waded off ahead vigilant for physical signs of a trail to follow.

Raaf manipulated us all, his words were sharp in Kamon's mind almost like psychic daggers, You were fooled by her deception, the same as I. Master Vondiranach may view himself apart, but you walked the same Temple grounds once. Had the same opportunity to sense something was wrong.

He had let his emotions get the best of him, he knew. It had quickly become apparent to the both of them that they would not see eye to eye, so when Kamon suggested they focus on what mattered Varex was all too glad to take him up on that offer.

There is no Order left to judge you. Your crimes against a fallen kingdom trouble me no longer. We will have to move quickly, their Dark Lord would not be here if not for some terrible purpose. And there is something else...something ancient is coming. Not the Sith, though I do not believe the timing of their arrival to be merely serendipitous.

An unnatural howl off in the distance pierced the stillness of the mire around them.

Rathtars, he recognized the animal cries, tilting his head to better gauge its general position, If the Lady of Shadows is here, that means there will likely be Sithspawn as well. We must join minds. Your mastery of the Current and my experience with more traditional cloaking techniques should be sufficient to mask everyone's passage.

 

[Koda Fett]

​

OBJECTIVE:​ Secure Gree Technology Capture Miner
ALLIES: The Sith Empire
ADVERSARIES: The Rebel Alliance, [member="Amea Virou"]

There was no such thing as reasoning with a Bounty Hunter. At least not any Hunter committed to the trade, that is. Whilst others may be willing to toss away their pay for something greater, or stand up to a higher moral ground, Fett was committed in his pursuit. Even after the Gree Technology was destroyed. He could of easily just walked away, deemed the mission a failure and still be paid the credits he was promised. Yet, he was as relentless as ever. Surely Amea knew something helpful, and if she could be captured, then Fett may very well see even more​ credits than initially promised.

The Mandalorian began to ease his descent once spotting Amea scurrying through the dirt, wriggling away from him. His booted feet collided with the ground, accompanied by a hardy thud. It was in that moment, however, he felt the pressure of impact. Striking his armoured chest with a blaster bolt. His left foot staggered backwards, and he grunted beneath his helmet. The microphone disabled, for the express purpose of never allowing any noise he made escape the helmet, at least not without ease.

Yet, Fett was so heavily armoured. Beneath the Mandalorian Armour was a micro-energy field projected as well as two layers of thin ceramic plates. Shielded from all kinds of attacks. His skills, as well as that provided a definite edge against most. However, Koda can't say he has ever combatted someone proficient in technomancy before. Even now he wasn't aware of such a thing. They truly were on equal ground.

The Bounty Hunter thrust his left forearm upwards, his Carbine-wielding-hand down his side as his feet exchanged positions. Hard-Sound departed his gauntlet, a form of sonic weaponry. It was capable of injuring, disorientating, and incapacitating. It was rather easy to tell that Koda was intent on the third of those presented.

Ailyn remained still.