Urias Fenris
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Post by Urias Fenris on Jul 25, 2014 13:41:13 GMT -8
Master Urias watched them go. L'awre retrieved her swords and re-sheathed them. She called her training lightsaber to her and clipped it to her harness and then called her Forcesaber and followed Urias to the tree. He stopped at the root knoll, called his lightsaber and clipped it to his belt. Then he turned to L'awre and said,
What path do you choose?
=L'awre=
I wish to become a Padawan, and I feel as if the Force is guiding me to Tython to learn how to achieve perfect Unity and balance in the Force as the Jed'aii did.
Curious. I think that greatly reduces the options for a Master for you, but I think we could find one willing to go. What have you learned?
=L'awre=
That I need to learn how to do this due to the histroy of my species. And here is my saber.
L'awre drew and handed Urias her Forcesaber
Hmm let me take a look here. Looks like you constructed a perfect Forcesaber.
Urias felt each part of the weapon through the Force. Felt its striking unity in the Force – a perfect balance between Ashla and Bogan. Each piece was perfectly in place. The crystal color had turned to a shade between Cyan and Black – a perfect grey-Cyan, during L'awre's meditation. Urias saw that this reflected the path she was to pursue in the Force––unity.
L'awre I am very impressed that not only is this built perfectly, but that you have it set in your heart the path you feel to walk. You have my blessing. You are no longer an Apprentice. In the customs and traditions as handed down from master to apprentice for more than 1500 generations, you are now a Padawan. Here is your Forcesaber and I bid you to go with my blessing to Tython. Urias paused and then stated, When we return to HK, my first task for you as a Padawan is to research the archives and databases on the Ancient ways of the Jed'aii. Whatever you discover, I would like you to bring it to me that I may review it. I also want you to report to the CUF council what you have discovered. During this time, I will need your help in creating a new Lightsaber form and a new Force Combat form. I will also need Rashan's help in creating them. After we have set up the new forms, and after you have done your research on the Ancient Jed'aii, I know a Knight whom would be an ideal fit for you. He has a dig in the process of being set up on Tython. I'll send you to him on Alderaan. From there you both are to go to Tython.
Urias pused then continued.
Wait here with me. Rashan approaches then we will go back to the ship together.
L'awre did as prompted and sat down next to Master Fenris. Urias rose when he saw Rashan exit the cave. Rashan approached him and said,
=Rashan=
Master, here is my lightsaber.
Excellent! Let me take a look at it.
Urias looked at it and activated it. The grey-viridian blade hummed. He deactivated it and felt it through the Force. This one too was put together in perfect Unity of the Force.
Apprentice, you have done well in constructing your new lightsaber. I am very proud of you. I am impressed that every part has been flawlessly put together. Even the color reflects the path you will take. In the traditions and customs from Master to Apprentice as handed down for 1500 generations, I am pleased to say, you are an Apprentice no more. Padawan Rashan you have my lessing to go to Tython to learn of your path. Before you go, your first task as Padawan is to research the ways of the Ancient Jed'aii and then bring the research to me. After this, you and L'awre will present before the CUF Council your findings with L'awre. Both of you will work together. Then I will need your help in creating a new Lightsaber Combat form and a new Force Combat form. After this we will see whom will be your new Master.
=Rashan=
Very well Master.
Urias handed L'awre's Forcesaber back to her, and Rashan's lightsaber back to her. L'awre closed her robe, as did Rashan. Urias attached a Padawan braid to Rashan's black hair, and he gave L'awre a pendent to signify her padawan status. The three of them made their way back to the spaceport.
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Malystrix
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Post by Malystrix on Nov 11, 2014 17:52:41 GMT -8
Almost as soon as he felt the spear blade open Balind's neck, Trull was battered back by an invisible fist, sent sprawling and tumbling back. He lost his grip on the spear and rolled, coming back up into a combat crouch with carbine poised for action. As Balind had screamed, his Shields had gone to work. Ten soldiers, all heavily armed and ready to rock and roll.
In his ear Trull heard Gral hissing as he opened fire, weapon dealing silent death as he followed through on his promise to fire on the man in the house, the man who had attacked Trull. As soon as he had taken that shot, the snipers in the windmills were beginning their attack, and Gral turned his attention to them, with Rallic spotting shots for him and providing some light support. Prone next to the two snipers, Dassec armed his DLT-19 and began to pour fire down into the four Companions outside the building, plastering the entire area with heavy blasterfire.
The air rippled around Corvo as his shield came to life, and he slung the massive sword down from his back. With a roar, the huge man went tearing towards the Malystrix, sword held at his hip like a spear to spit a boar. Two Shields turned and attacked the Companions behind the speeder, one dropping into a mobile crouch to provide cover fire from behind his shield, while the other ran a wide flank with a Ripper in his hand, lobbing a concussion grenade at the barrier. These three were the only ones to fully avoid the grenade blasts, however: the rest of the Shields were either staggered or truly thrown back. One of the Shields took a grenade to his chest, and his memory would be sung later. The other Shields recovered quickly, attempting to form a shield line and return fire into the homestead. They were taken unawares by the sniper fire.
Two Shields were taken down at the outset by the sniper fire from the windmills. The other three huddled together, forming an armored knot that curved to face both homestead and windmills as best it could. One of the Shields, a brawny man named Iskar, hefted a light missile launcher onto his shoulder, over his shield. The weapon gave a whoosh and one of its deadly gifts hurtled up to detonate one of the windmills into lovely pieces. Beside him, Kamin hurled a pair of concussion grenades at the other windmills from behind his shield while Koman tossed a frag grenade at the homestead, aiming to shred the four men standing outside it.
Trull himself had sprayed a few shots at the Companions in front of the homestead before he took two shots on his chest piece and was reminded of his shield. The heavy piece felt reassuring on his arm. It was time to do Kad's work. The Priest slung his carbine onto his back again and began to sprint forward towards the homestead, just as Koman's grenade detonated. Trull heard shrapnel ping away from his lifted shield. As he passed Balind's body the Priest ripped his spear free and bulled towards the men outside the building. The one farthest to the left stood farthest forward, and so was his first target. With shield lifted just high enough to be a guard and not obscure his vision, and with spear held low for stabbing, Trull charged.
Two of the Companions stationed outside of the house were killed when the fighting broke out, cut down by blasterfire. Another had the good sense to retreat inside, firing out through the doorway with his rifle to discourage pursuit. The other took a knee, ignoring the wound in his shoulder, and sent a spray of bolts into the Mandalorian's flank. He didn't have time to see if anyone fell; Trull was upon him in the next moment. Loosing a curse and rising, the Companion dropped his rifle and yanked his axe free from his belt. Holding the weapon out to his side, he threw himself at the Priest, hoping to get inside his guard and render the spear useless.
The concussion grenade blew apart the makeshift barrier outside the shed, and left one of the Companions sheltering behind it dead. A jagged piece of shrapnel protruded from his throat. An angry shout ripping from his throat, the dead man's comrade rose and fired a grenade from his launcher, aiming out to the Shield's left and hoping to knock him senseless with the splash damage. Immediately the mercenary dropped back down behind what remained of the barrier.
As one of the windmills exploded in a shower of flame and splinters, deadly sniper-fire continued to scythe down from the remaining nests. The concussion grenades rocked the structures, but did not topple them. One of the snipers was clinging to the window where he'd nearly fallen to his death when one of the Mandalorian snipers put a series of holes through his torso. His corpse fell and landed amid the rubble with a heavy splat.
All this Malystrix observed with his Sight.
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Caoimhin Shan
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Post by Caoimhin Shan on Feb 10, 2015 23:53:03 GMT -8
It was after the battle between the Shields and the Companions. After they had cleared out, after peace had returned to the homestead. It was after the battle simply so that a thing a could happen, and the one constant was that a certain Jedi was going to be here, at this time, after the battle, to be the one to do the thing.
Cao looked down at the recovered lightsaber in his hand, a smile lighting up his face as he ran his thumb across its hilt. Despite all he had lost, it brought him comfort to realize that a little bit of his family had been recovered. He turned his face to the sky, the air still damp from the storm that had blown through, one last raindrop hitting his face..
..and a familiar Force presence burst into his awareness. It was half a galaxy away, it wasn't very notable, more like a tickle in the back of his mind, but it was one he hadn't felt in seven years. It was unmistakable.
It was her.
The ground gave out beneath his feet. He had been lied to, he had been tricked, he had been taunted and teased and pushed to the brink of insanity again and again with each new iteration of false hope. Machines and technology, built to emulate, built to deceive, and he had met them all. But not one of them had existed in the Force. Not one of them had been definitively able to prove it was who it was made to be. Seven years ago, the last member of his family had vanished from his senses.
She had just come back.
"Elly.."
He wanted to run. He wanted to.. Just as suddenly as it had reappeared, it vanished once more. He didn't care. That brief moment of feeling.. that connection that had been lost so long ago.. He could no longer tell whether the water on his face was from the sky or from his eyes. There was no mistaking it. His little sister was alive.
She was alive.
...A few minutes later, a ship lifted off of the terrain and left the atmosphere, carrying with it a fallen Jedi who had just been given his first taste of real, genuine hope.
I'm coming.
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Picas Dixon
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Post by Picas Dixon on Oct 16, 2015 1:14:07 GMT -8
Picas and Karrus left the enclave together, and decided to walk to the crystal cave. It wasn't a long journey, and Picas had been there before - many moons ago. Walking in the Dantooine plains often brought a sense of calm. The enclave had been pretty well preserved as they looked at it from the first time from the outside, though none of the peaceful Jedi hustle and bustle was present, nor were any of the citizens there for help. The enclave must have been deserted for a while.
"This way, Karrus," Picas said, heading into the plains. Karrus followed. "Last time I was here, the plains had more... people. The citizens of Dantooine often came to the enclave for help from the Jedi, and we were always looking to lend a hand where we could. We'll have to get more Jedi back here, Karrus, so we can help again."
"And we will, Picas. I've got no doubt." Picas nodded, and they went further into the plains. Picas eyes a few Kath hounds in the distance, but they seemed content in laying in the sun and resting. Picas sensed no danger, so they continued. The walk took around an hour, but they reached the crystal cave with no incident. Whether Picas was happy about that or not was anyone's guess - he liked the idea of being safe, but the lack of activity bothered him somehow.
They entered the cave.
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Picas Dixon
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Post by Picas Dixon on Oct 17, 2015 5:53:23 GMT -8
The Jedi duo returned the same way they had arrived at the crystal cave. They retraced their steps, though night was approaching and the sun was disappearing behind the rolling hills of the planet. Both admired the beauty but neither wanted to be caught in the dark with kath hounds around. They headed back to the enclave briskly.
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Apr 6, 2016 19:08:07 GMT -8
Dantooine, a paradise world among the sea of stars. It was a planet devoted to simple living; a vibrant world of grasslands, rivers and lakes, inhabited by a small population of Human farmers. Its inhabitants spread out across vast land holdings and joined by single-family settlements and small communities. Its majestic fields and rolling plains were a wonderous sight, for both visitors and those who lived upon this terrestrial world. For generations, during the Old Republic, the Jedi Order protected its settlers from the threats that lie beyond this system. Despite this most noble protection, Dantooine has witnessed a number of battles through known history; the Clone Wars, the Galactic Civil War, and the Yuuzhan Vong War to name some of the conflicts. Unknown to the simple farmers, a spark would be witnessed before their very eyes, a spark that would ignite a new era of galactic warfare.
An ominous spectacle filled the night sky over Dantooine as a rather sudden meteor shower pierced through the atmosphere of the peaceful world. For miles, this massive shower could be seen and many came out of their homes to witness it. Yet there was a sinister presence that lurked in what seemed to be a spectacular display of passing asteroids. Around the early morning, reports came in of areas hit by the meteors, causing field fires and damaging irrigation canals. It seemed like a typical day as fire crews were sent to contain the conflagrations and protect the crops from harm. These fires were all focused in a particular area on the planet; ten leagues south of the old Imperial Outpost, which helped the fire crews respond quickly and precisely to the affected area.
Fire Crew A-7
Location: Ten leagues south of Imperial Outpost
Captain Vitaan oversaw the fire crews dispatched to one of the largest farm holdings in the region, by order of the Jedi protectors and community leaders. He had been elected the leader of this expedition to ensure that the crops were not harmed and the fires were contained. Transports arrived, filled to the brim with personnel with the necessary equipment to combat the flames as they roared across the rolling fields, scarring the land in smoke and scorching heats. Vitaan was a middle-aged male, his family having been on Dantooine for many generations; his grandfather, Old Tharan, once said that they were among the first settlers to arrive when the Galactic Republic first settled this planet during the mass colonization effort. He was a farmer, like most present, but had been hailed as someone who knew how to handle field fires, thanks to his own father, Thion. Vitaan watched as the crews were dispatched and began to fight the flames, extinguishing the smaller pockets before moving onto the larger sources. All seemed to be routine until a crewmember reported seeing something moving within the thick black smoke; the reported figure moving northward through the scorching flames. Vitaan ordered crews to find out if someone had been caught in the flames and sent personnel to search the northern edge of the roaring flames.
As crews began to fight the flames, Vitaan heard more crewmembers reporting movement within the smoke. He moved his transport closer to the action, wondering what was going on. One of the crew leaders pointed in the direction of a pair of lumbering figures, the crackling of the flames hiding the sound of their movement. At first, Vitaan thought that it was a pair of Dantari, trying to find their way through the smoke and flames. Then his eyes noticed a swiveling movement, followed by a pair of glowing red eyes. The motion of an arm, appeared to be mechanical in the way it moved, as if whatever was hiding within the thick smoke was a droid. His answer came only seconds later when the sound of a laser gun went off. Memories flashed for a second before everything for Vitaan went black. His body going limp as a blaster bolt pierced his chest cavity, causing him to die within a split second. Vitaan was officially the first casualty of the battle to come...
Vitaan's body had barely gone cold as more lumbering figures began to move in the direction of where he once stood. Panic gripped the fire crews as salvos of lasers pierced through the conflagrations causing droves of personnel to go down within an instant. While most were killed upon impact, others were maimed by lasers to their arms and legs. One crew managed to gain access to a nearby transport, yet as soon as it came to life, a pair of short-ranged missiles streaked overhead and impacted the transport. The vehicle exploding seconds later from the explosive impact. Personnel dropped their equipment and turned to flee for their lives as hulking and black armored figures lumbered out the smoke. Their torsos swiveling left and right as the assailants continued to gun down the unarmed crews, attempting to live another day and not die at the hands of these robotic monstrosities. Not since the days of the Galactic Empire had the galaxy witnessed the presence of Dark Troopers in full battle mode. They were merciless and precise; their armament short of a tank and appearance a horrific sight for the panicking people.
One of the wounded was unfortunate enough to see a Phase III Dark Trooper come up and set its heavy foot upon his pelvis, cracking the bones and sending pain soaring through the male. The massive droid seemed to be unaware of having stepped upon the wounded individual, its gazing scanning across the horizon at its comrades as they continued their advance, gunning down the fleeing individuals. The monstrosity began to speak in a deep robotic voice as if reporting to an unseen commander.
Phase One, successful. Landing zone cleared. Damage report, minimal.
All witnesses are to be exterminated. Black Hammer Unit mobilizing and moving towards primary objective as per orders.
Ten leagues (30 miles) in distance, by calculation, between initial dropzone and objective vicinity. Black Hammer Unit setting course for primary objective.
Phase Two initiated, invasion in progress. Main force arrival imminent, ETA: one hour.
The male beneath it's feet then screamed in pain from the broken pelvis, causing the droid to adjust its vision. The Dark Trooper then looked down, leveling its heavy blaster down into the wounded male's face. Its sinister crimson eyes bearing down upon the human who was filled with fear. There were the man's final moments, there was no escape from this war droid that stood over him. He couldn't bring himself to scream any longer. The pain within his lower body forgotten by the muzzle of the blaster rifle pointed at his face. Silence fell momentarily before it was pierced by the sound of blaster going off. His fear dissipated instantly as the man died beneath the armored assailant. A final word was spoken to the recently deceased male, a proclamation made by the present Dark Trooper before he joined the advance.
This planet belongs to the First Order. Defiance shall silenced and order will be restored.
With that said, the Dark Trooper joined the formation of its unit and began its advance towards the Imperial Outpost. The black armored war droids marched in an arrow formation, moving without hesitation nor stopping to engage anyone unless they tried to bar their way. Most settlements, along the way, shut their doors and hid their faces out of fear from the sight of these dark armored droids. Unfortunately, there were those stubborn enough to make a stand, only to have their homes burned and their screams silenced in a hellstorm of lasers and missiles. Despite this, the Dark Troopers of Unit Black Hammer continued their march forward, moving northward towards their primary objective. This initial contact, a slaughter between the Dark Troopers and the fire crews, marked the first blood drawn by what would go down in history as the Third Galactic Civil War.
An hour from now, Dantooine's planetary sensor arrays would detect hyperspace signatures inbound to the planet. At first, the signatures were few, but as they approached closer to the planet, the sensors detected multiple ships, moving like a spear thrusted at Dantooine's heart. The sensors detected various warships, ranging from Star Destroyers to cruisers and frigates. It wasn't a trade convoy nor a raider's fleet, Dantooine was about to witness the arrival of a war fleet. A swarm of ships that would bring conflict to the peaceful planet of Dantooine and strike the match that would engulf the galaxy in a new era of conflict.
100 First Order Dark Troopers have landed on Dantooine and begin moving to secure the Imperial Outpost as a forward HQ for the arriving Imperial forces
Black Hammer Unit
- 50 Phase I Dark Troopers
--> Melee Dark Troopers.
--> Armed with vibroblade and shield.
- 30 Phase II Dark Troopers
--> Ranged Dark Troopers.
--> Armed with an assault cannon and jump pack.
- 15 Phase III Dark Troopers
--> Ranged Dark Trooper, classified as bipedal tank.
--> Armed with assault cannon, shoulder mounted seeker missiles, and wrist mounted blasters. Additions include concussion and thermal grenades and jet pack
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Feb 20, 2017 0:07:26 GMT -8
"What is he?" Said the voice, low and masculine.
"Does it matter? He's not human, so he's not with the First Order." Said a second voice, feminine, husky.
"I just meant - how is he alive? Nothing could have survived that. Is he a Jedi? Look, you can see his wounds closing!" Asked the first voice hopefully.
"I don't think so. Look at his clothes and his weapons. Probably some civilian that got caught up in the fighting. Private, disarm him. Medic, give him a shot of bacta - no matter what he is, it's unlikely he'll have a reaction to it." Said the second voice, authoritative, in charge.
The voices were disembodied, alien. Had he heard them before? No...no surely not. Was he dead? Everything was black, and all he could smell was fire and leaking engine coolant. The voices should be careful; the stuff was mildly radioactive. A prick at his arm, or what he thought was his arm. Maybe it was his leg. Could he even feel his body? Yes, because he had felt the needle. Coolness spread through his body, and his mind cleared. Slowly, Jashin opened his eyes, everything blindingly bright, making out only shapes and smudged colors. Weakly, he struggled to move - but a hand held him down.
"Whoa, easy there friend." Soothed the first voice gently. "Incredible! Look, his bones are knitting, his wounds are practically gone! His species must have astounding regenerative ability." Said the first voice excitedly.
"I...*cough*" Jashin managed to croak out a single word to the voices, before the word caught in his throat, making him cough and wretch. The movement wracked his body in pain, and his vision began to fade to black briefly. For a long dizzying and disorienting moment his wounds fought with his will to stay conscious - Jashin eventually winning out after several long seconds. His vision clearing, shapes solidified, sights and sounds and smells rushed to his awareness all at once. He was seated in the Stalwart's flight chair, the panels before him ruined beyond all repair, the viewport cracked and shattered - splattered here and there with dark blood, his blood. Small fires smoked from within various consoles, sending small wisps of smoke spiraling into the air. More pressing, though, were the four soldiers in front of him. Three humans and a Codru-Ji, two of the humans were males, obviously Alliance infantry. The third human was a woman, even now scanning him with a medisensor, prepping another vile of bacta for injection. She must be the medic. The fourth, the Cordu-Ji, was a four armed female, dressed in Alliance garb, but clearly a Commanding Officer.
His hand immediately going to his side to his blaster, Jashin froze as his hand slapped against an empty holster; the alliance soldiers raising their rifles at him in turn.
"Easy! Easy. You've crashed - you're disoriented. We mean you no harm. Do you know your name? Where you are?" Said the Medic gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. The Commander gestured to the soldiers, who slowly lowered their weapons.
"I...I am Jashin. I'm...on Dantooine. I...crashed?" Whispered Jashin, his voice a dry croak. Coughing, he accepted some water the Medic offered - the woman holding the canteen up to him. "Yes. I...dropped out of hyperspace. Right into a battle. The First Order...Kark, the Order!" Realization dawned on him, and Jashin cast about, struggling against the flight seat's restraints. "Kark, am I on the battlefront? Where am I? Who are you?"
The medic was about to respond, but the Commander, apparently judging Jashin out of immediate danger, pushed the younger smaller woman out of the way, before stepping in front of the pirate. "This entire planet is the battlefront now. As for where you are, you're about one hundred klicks from Garang, in the western battle theater. As for who we are...we're the 33rd Alliance Infantry. Well...what's left of it. We were tasked with keeping some of the smaller farms on the outskirts of Garang secure. Civilian evac and the like. FO has been destroying what they can, and burning what they can't. That's who we are. Now, who are you?"
Jashin's mind spun. He was in the middle of a warzone, the worst possible place he could be, besides an Alliance or FO torture room. Licking his lips, reaching for the canteen of water, he took a long swig before handing it back. Releasing his crash restraints, he slowly and gingerly stood up (the Medic hovering close, looking worried) before taking a tentative step. His leg screamed in response, and, wisely, he sat back down. "I'm Jashin Rau, and my species is Firrerreo; and, yes, we have copious regenerative ability. It's more than likely the only reason I'm still alive. I was on my way here to trade, crops and the like. I'm just a merchant. Hence the freighter." As he spoke, Jashin improvised, spinning the false story to the Commander. His first priority was survival. If he told them he was a pirate, they would likely simply execute him to save themselves trouble. Once he could find a new ship, he'd hand over the crystal, and that would be that. All he had to do was convince the squad to take them back, and then hand off the crystal to their commanding officer. "Can you take me to your base of operations?"
No sooner had he finished speaking, did the Commander reply. "Cut the kark. You're no trader." She said dryly, leveling her rifle at Jashin's chest. Alarmed, his eyes widened and his skin shifted to silver. "A military grade pistol? Grenades? Battle armor? You're a mercenary at the least. Question is...who did you come to fight for?"
Inwardly, Jashin berated himself for lying when he was so concussed and wounded. Of course, no merchant would carry military grade weapons like him. Now the Commander was suspicious. If he lied again, and she saw through it, she might shoot him anyway. "...Alright, you caught me." Admitted Jashin, raising his arms in surrender. "I'm a pirate. That's all there is to it. I was on Naboo, attempting to steal from an Imperial transport. Out of nowhere, these two fleets show up - and they duke it out. Make a long story short, I got my hands on the cargo the transport was ferrying before the fleets showed up. Apparently it's vital intel to the war effort." He explained quickly. At the Commander's dubious expression, he brought a hand down to his stomach - cutting the flesh there open with a shard of viewport transparisteel from the broken canopy. In front of the four Alliance soldiers, he dug around in his own guts before finally retrieving the memory crystal, holding it up for them to see. "Look, it's true. See? Here's the Mem crystal. I'm just a thief. That's it. But I bit off more than I could chew. So I came here to Dantooine to give the thing to the Jedi. They'd get it into the proper hands, and that would get the heat off my back. I wouldn't have karking come if I had known the system was a kriffing war zone."
Slowly, the Commander lowered her gun, uncertain. "What kind of information?"
"I honestly don't know. It's encrypted with FO Intelligence algorithms. Even if I were slicer savvy, I don't think I could break them." Said Jashin honestly. "Look, I don't know if what is on here will save people. It could be the Knights of Ren's recipe for chav tea for all I know. I just know that whatever is on here is important enough for people to come after me."
Jashin winced as the Commander leveled her blaster at him once more. Apparently having made up her mind. Her finger depressed the trigger, the rifle pulse, and then...
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Feb 20, 2017 0:42:57 GMT -8
...and then Jashin opened his eyes, confused. Turning his head, he looked behind him seeing a FO Stormtrooper - now with a hole in his chest - slowly fall to the ground, quite dead.
Slowly, the Commander lowered her rifle, barking out a command into her comlink for the perimeter to be re-secured. Turning to Jashin, she eventually spoke. "I don't know if you're telling the truth. Your story is so crazy, I'm not inclined to believe you. But, the truth is...I can't afford to kill you on the off chance your story is true. We're losing the war here on Dantooine. If you have something that could change the tide...we need it. Desperately." Reaching a hand out to Jashin, she helped him up to his feet. "I'm Commander Terris. That's Medic Klara. Spots and Spuds are the two soldiers over there."
"Thank you. Nice to meet you, regardless of the conditions." Said Jashin quickly, nodding as introductions were made. "Can I have my weapons back?"
For a long moment the Commander looked like she would refuse, but, in the end, she just gave out a barking defeated sounding laugh, waving at Spuds (or was it Spots) to return the pilfered items. "You can have them back. But you'll stay the hell away from our gear. I see you with a rifle or high output blaster, and I'll end you. Understand?" Jashin nodded in acknowledgement, strapping his belt around his waist, and slipping his pistol back into its holster. Commander Terris just shook her head at it all, waving for him to follow her. Barking out an order, the squad moved away from the escape pod, moving in unison down a rough path across the plains. It wasn't lost on him that Spots and Spuds took up a position behind him, their weapons at the ready. "If you're telling the truth, and you're a pirate, then you have battle experience, right?" Said the Commander as she took the lead.
"You are correct. However, I served in the Serenno House Army long before my, uh, criminal activities." Said Jashin, reassuringly.
"Oh? Infantry or Naval?" Asked Terris, curious. "Rank?"
"I was a Commander. Though Serenno ranks are different from Alliance standard - I was the equivalent of a Fireteam leader in an infantry special forces unit." Said Jashin absently, scanning the plains. He'd never been on the planet before, but he imagined it must have been a peaceful and tranquil place with its plains of grass and large rock formations dotting the grasslands. Now, though, smoke hung in the sky, the result of thousands of fires burning the countryside. In the distance, he could see a small farm, the crops burnt to the ground, the small farmhouse leveled by mortar and cannon fire. It seemed the Order's intent was to do as much damage to the planet and its populace as possible - a scorched earth campaign if ever there was one. No doubt the system was only important from a strategic perspective for its hyperlanes. "Commander Terris, you said the war is going poorly. How many casualties has the 33rd sustained? Besides your squad, I can see other fireteams in the distance...this can't be SOP. You'd be spread too thin."
"What you see, is what is left of the 33rd." Answered Terris stiffly. "Out of our battalion, only twenty soldiers remains - five fireteams, or one platoon. We held Jarrak Base, a small outpost to the east of here, and we were coordinating civilian evacuations from there. Loading Civs on transports and such. The FO hit us with an orbital bombardment, softened us up, then sent walkers and infantry in. We've been cut off from command since then."
At that, a pit formed in Jashin's stomach. Out of one thousand, only twenty were left? And that was just for a relief and evacuation force. How badly were the front line troops faring? The casualties, for both sides, had to be upwards of eighty percent. No wonder the Commander didn't shoot him. They were out of hope. More than that, though, the transports were either destroyed or captured by this point. How would he get off this planet? Another thought occurred to him, then, and he tentatively asked the Commander, hoping that he was wrong. "I take it then, that the only comm array with enough power to reach command is at this base?"
"Correct. Which is why we have to take it." Replied Terris grimly.
Looking around at the grim faces of the soldiers, Jashin realized, then, that though the Commander might have spared him, she probably had only done so because they needed an extra recruit. Even now, they were marching to certain death. Because an assault on a FO held outpost in the middle of a war was practically suicide, right?
"Oh...Kark. Just, kark and kriff my luck." Muttered Jashin under his breath.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 21, 2017 16:06:37 GMT -8
Commander Terris, with her squad and Jashin in tow, slowly made their way across the burning plains of Dantooine. It was slow going, punctuated by the occasional starfighter streaking across the sky, or the distant thump of artillery. From the east, a vast column of smoke rose profusely into the air - Jahsin was told that it was Garang, the city completely under siege, and the Alliance barely holding any ground against the First Order tide. Worse still, though, were the bodies. Alliance soldiers and stormtroopers alike were strewn out across the plains, some quite cold, others still warm - holes smoking in their chests. Dotting the landscape, walkers, downed repulsorcraft, mobile artillery pieces, and all manner of weapons of war could be found in various states of disrepair and destruction; nearly all accompanied by dead pilots and engineers.
And then there were the survivors. Sometimes First Order, sometimes Alliance, not that it mattered which: all simply stumbled through the fires and smoke in a daze, confused and lost, weapons dangling limply in their hands. Aimless wanderers, they stumbled across the battlefields...what could laughingly be called 'survivors' in this wretched war.
Throughout all of it, Jashin kept silent. He had seen war himself, and many of the sites were all too familiar. Yet, the sheer devastation, the sheer toll on both sides in this war of attrition - it was astounding. He had never seen anything like it. It was like some sentient had tied two starving Kath hounds together, and tossed a single portion of meat to them: in al likelihood, both would die fighting for that meager pathetic scrap.
Their march came to a stop, and Jashin started slightly, having to stop abruptly as to not run int Commander Terris. Peering around her, he realized then that they were at camp. Well, what could be laughingly called camp. Under camouflage netting between two rock faces that seemed prevalent here on Dantooine, a tiny base of operations had been hurriedly constructed. Little more than some crates, some cots, and a single T1-B Hovertank and some odd twenty or thirty soldiers, the encampment was little more than a covered cave. Distrustfully, soldiers eyed the newcomer among Teriss' squad with disdain. Others simply with complete apathy. That is, until all turned to regard a young woman who stepped around the tank to greet them. Tall, with a bald head and gaunt features, the Umbaran Jedi was truly a rare sight - both in species and in profession - here on Dantooine.
"Greetings, stranger. I am Jedi Master Vanna Hao; I bid you welcome. I trust this sentient was the source of the crash?" Said the Jedi, turning to Terris.
"Unfortunately. We checked his ship - the long range transmitter is shot. Along with the rest of the craft."
Shaking her head, Hao gestured for Jashin to sit, which he did so - albeit slowly - before the woman poured him some tea, offering him a ration bar. Meanwhile, Commander Terris shouted several orders, apparently intent on briefing what was left of the 33rd on the new situation. The Jedi, meanwhile, paid her no mind. Jashin, licking his lips, raised an eyebrow at the action. "Uh, you aren't military, are you? I mean, I know Jedi aren't military. Just...you don't seem..." Jashin trailed off, struggling for words. Indeed, the woman's apathetic attitude towards her current state of affairs was slightly unnerving.
"Peace, friend. No, you are most perceptive - I was a member of the geological corps. I was gathering crystal samples from the crystal caves in the event the Order destroyed the chasm. I am more what you would call a 'scientist Jedi' than a true fieldswoman." The woman trailed off, then, before shaking her head lightly. "That said, all of us, regardless of position, have become far too accustomed to war in these days. I've used my abilities to aid these fine soldiers. Between my insight, and Commander Terris' training, we have managed to keep the 33rd alive. For the most part." She paused, before shaking her head slightly - pouring some tea for herself then. "In my vision, I saw a great warrior of the force fall from the sky in a ship. I had hoped the warrior to be a Jedi, and the ship to be used to contact command. In this aspect...we are both surprised. But all things are ordained in the force."
"Sorry to disappoint. You'll have to look elsewhere for a Jedi and ship." He answered earnestly. Jashin shifted uncomfortably at her mention of the force, and Hao raised an eyebrow - the action not going unnoticed by her.
"You don't believe?" She inquired, gracefully raising her cup of tea to her lips.
"I, well, yes. I've seen the force used. It exists." Replied Jashin, still off balance. The Umbaran was uncanny, somehow slipping from subject to subject, focussing in with laser-like precision on his uncertainty and discomfort. Perhaps the manipulation of the Umbaran was even more dangerous in such a situation - an Umbaran of the light, a Jedi, was still more than capable of influening and controlling the conversation, apparently.
"No. You don't believe in the force within yourself." Corrected the Umbaran, slightly admonishing - a twinkle in her eye.
"I, look, shouldn't we be focussed on our current predicament?" Said jashin, setting his tea down and standing from the small table.
"I am the technical Commander of these troops. You are our new asset - and I am coming to know and understand you." Hao answered easily, gesturing for Jashin to sit down once again. "You believe in the force, yes. Like one believes in air; we know it sustains us, so we breathe. But do you believe in it? Have faith in it? Is it not terrifying to need a breath so many times throughout a life? Yet, always for granted we take the next one - because we have faith. Faith that it will be there. It is the same with the force."
"I..." Stuttered Jashin, at a loss for words. In all honesty, the woman unnerved him; no one had asked these questions of him before. During his training as a Guardsman, they had tested for sensitivity, of course. But it was regimented and military - a matter of combining equal measures latent power, concentration, and discipline to produce an effect. No one had phrased it in such a...spiritual...way to him. And then there was the setting; here, huddled in a cave, the woman had been seated and already brewing tea. As if she had been waiting for him. And had she not? She had seen him in a vision. She knew he was approaching. "I...no, I don't believe. Why should I have faith in something that doesn't affect me? Air, at least, is there. It sustains me. Where others grow in power, I'm left helpless. I mean, I wouldn't be stuck on this godsforsaken planet if I was strong in the force." He eventually answered, resentment rising to the surface - several soldiers turning to regard him and the Master as they took notice of the conversation and the turn it was taking.
"There is the truth." Said Hao, content, nodding her head. "But let me ask...if you have no faith in it, why should it have any faith in you? The will of the force manifests strangely, directing life and events in mysterious ways. Even the lowliest life form, with the most modest connection, has a place in the natural order. And it accepts its place in that order. Why would you expect anything less but disaster, if you turn your back on that will and purpose? If you have no faith in purpose and fate?"
"I tried to connect with it!" Spluttered Jashin defensively. "I...I...why are we even talking about this? Look, sweetheart, the second we get to this outpost of yours, I'm out of here, ok? You can take your hokey religion to your grave - 'cause this planet? That's what it's going to be. A grave. So...really...where's your force? Your destiny?" Taking a final swig of tea, Jashin crushed the glass in his hand, dumping the broken fragments out on the ground, before dusting his hands off. "The Commander says we're moving out in the morning...so, I'm going to rest." With a hand raised in goodbye, the pirate stomped away - leaving a bemused Vanna staring after him, an eyebrow raised.
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Commander Terris, watching the whole of the exchange, came to stand beside the Jedi, more than slightly amused. "I guess you were right about the ship, but not the Jedi. That one's kinda fiery, right? I spent five minutes with him and was laughing my head off at the idea of him wearing your robes and meditating." Said the Commander, snickering a little.
Vanna, though, was simply contemplative, her fingers steepled together, her eyes watching the Firrerreo's diminishing form as he stomped away. "No...I didn't say it would be a Jedi. But rather a powerful force wielder." Corrected Vanna, still contemplative. "You - and I as well - assumed that it would be a Jedi. I believe we were wrong."
Terris scoffed aloud at that, gesturing to the distant alien's back. "What, him? He doesn't have a lick of talent in him. I've served with padawans that have more juice."
"Be that as it may...I sense a great...muteness." Explained Vanna, taking another sip of tea.
"Muteness? Do you think he may be concealing a force connection? He could be a Ren for all I know." Said Terris tensely. She was stopped, though, by Vanna's hand on her arm. and a slight shake of the Jedi's head.
"No, you misunderstand. Every living thing has a...path. Like they are headed in a line, which force sensitives can see and divine through precognition. Jashin's is...suppressed, blurry if you will. It is as if something is forcibly holding the man back from his fate. I'm quite sure the man is utterly unaware of it. Hence his stark...indignation."
"He did seem genuinely irritated." Terris muttered. "Alright then, practically where does this leave us?" Asked the Commander, her military training kicking in.
"I believe the man has latent ability that he is unaware of. Why it is latent, and why he is so unaware is quite a mystery...but it is undoubtedly the force's doing to bring him to this place, at this time, with Dantooine in such turmoil..."
"...But?" Promted Terris as the Jedi trailed off. The veteran soldier keeping as much patience as possible with the somewhat whimsical and spiritual Jedi.
"But...for the immediate future, I do not see him as being a greater asset to us than one of your commandos. This, combined with the destruction of his ship's transmitter, leads me to reluctantly agree with you; we must assault the Outpost, and hold it long enough to contact Command." Finished Vanna, setting her cup down on the table with more than a little finality.
"I was afraid of that." Muttered Terris. "Blast it, leave it to the force to get my hopes up. Stuck with a guy with latency issues and a geologist. Er, no offense Master Hao." Finished the Commander rather lamely.
"There is no offense. It is true that if my abilities were less academic, less focussed on the spiritual side of the force and its interactions - and more on the physical and lightsaber combat, then we may have already been saved by now." Vanna said bluntly. "I confess that I've wrestled as to why the force allowed me, and not some field agent to meet up with your unit...I further confess it has been a source of...frustration with myself."
"I, hey, no...I mean, I'd rather you were here than not, Master." Said Terris, patting the air. "Your visions and insight have saved us plenty of times enough."
The words brought a small smile to the Master's face, and she ducked her head. "Always a kind word, Commander Terris. I thank you. But in truth, I feel much more validated after meeting this man. I believe the force put me here, now, in this point in time exactly because of those abilities. He needs a stronger spiritual connection...different angles of insight and objectiveness. His is a deep and meaningful connection to the force. But he attacks it with a hammer, trying to make it subvert to his will. Now I mean you no offense Commander - but it is apt to say that he tackles the force like a military man. And while this may work for many, it does not always work for all. I shall attempt to show him a better way."
Terris shrugged, not taking offense. In all honesty, the entire 'force' thing was a little beyond her. She could relate to Jashin a little though - both being military beings. She couldn't imagine trying to tackle meditation and spiritual growth with nothing but knowledge of battle tactics and sniper rifle use. It was no small wonder the man was frustrated. "Well...do what you can for him. If you can center him more, or find a way to make him more useful...it will only increase our odds. Tomorrow, at dawn, we strike the outpost. We'll need every advantage we can get." Terris paused then, suddenly looking rather uncomfortable. "Um...are we still? Tonight?"
"Yes. Later." Replied Vanna, an eyebrow raising. Chuckling slightly as the Commander blushed and promptly left, Vanna eventually shook her head, turning to regard the now sleeping Firrerreo. The force worked in mysterious ways. Could she offer this being some solace? Could she, perhaps, show him a new point of view? Only time would tell...
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Post by Deleted on Feb 22, 2017 12:35:52 GMT -8
He was in a large hall, the floors wooden, the ceilings high and vaulted. Great pillars of stone, ornate and with delicate carving and filigree, stretched high to the rafters. From the rafters, chimes hung on varying lengths of chord, intermixed with lanterns, their combined soft light and gentle tones filling the hall. Far below, on the wooden paneled floor, stands of various height held candles and incense sticks, while meditation pads were scattered about in a seemingly random and haphazard pattern. Upon these pads, Guardsmen in training sat crosslegged, their backs straight, their palms upright, led in meditation by a single monk.
Bodyguards and assassins, the collection of sentients - their races wide and varied - had been trained by some of the best teachers credits could buy; with the sole purpose of protecting the wealthiest sentients in the galaxy - the Counts of Serenno. Their lives had been full of combat training, brutal drills,and lectures on anatomy and battle tactics. Until one week ago, where they had been led to this hall - for an entirely different sort of training
Now they meditated, from sunrise to sunset, the occasional Count or administrator visiting to speak with the monk in hushed tones. This...was an entirely different and new training. The students whispered when they thought no one was listening, conspiring amongst themselves as to why the drastic change in curriculum. Only Jashin, though, knew for sure; they were testing, testing to see who had force potential and who didn't.
The thought made Jashin's stomach crawl, and he struggled to push the knotted feeling into the back of his mind. Twice, his father had visited, speaking intently to the monk. Once becoming rather angry and raising his voice. Jashin knew it was because of him - his father was disappointed in his progress. Now, today, he would visit for a third time - and like the students before him (they had once packed the hall, before slowly dwindling away) the monk would shake his head either yes or no, and then ask the student in question to leave the meditation chambers.
Today...was his last chance.
He heard the great wooden doors open, and in his periphery vision, he saw his father enter. Jashin, with all his might, cleared his mind and utterly blanked his thoughts. His back straight as possible, his form perfect, he held the position and the mental emptiness for as long as possible - resisting the urge to look at his father or the monk.
"Gave...extra time...he...not possible...I'm sorry."
The words, low and whispered, reached Jashin's ears - and his heart fell, knowing what would come next.
"Jashin Rau. Exit the chambers, please. We have concluded our testing."
Keeping his eyes closed, standing slowly, Jashin eventually opened them to meet his father's stony, expressionless gaze. To anyone else but Jashin, it would have been an unreadable mask. Perfectly controlled. But Jashin knew. He knew.
His father was disappointed.
For, if he had had the gift...then he would have begun training with his father. Ascending from Guardsman to Lord, being taught in the ways of the House, keeping the Clan and its ways sacred and whole; a tribute to his bloodline and birthright. Instead...
Without speaking, his father turned and exited, whisper quiet as he exited the chamber doors. And Jashin set his jaw and cast his eyes downward.
Instead...he would be pitied.
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Jashin started awake, rising from his bunk so fast he banged his head on the bunk above him with a decidedly painful sounding *clunk*. Cursing lowly, trying to not wake the others, he swung his legs off the meager cot, and left the tent. It was rare that he dreamed. And it was rarer still that he dreamt of the past. His heart beating quickly, Jashin closed his eyes, willing it to slow down, and he shakily drew in a breath to steady himself. It was ironic, really. Plenty of sentients had nightmares about violence, or death, or any manner of things. Jashin had nightmares about his father and his training.
A noise from his left to drew his attention; Vanna Hao emerged from the Officers tent - shared by Vanna and Terris - wearing a modest under-robe, the Master apparently preferring to wear her Jedi robes even in sleep. It seemed the Master was having trouble sleeping as well. The wind shifted just then, and Jashin's eyebrows raised slowly - with his keen sense of smell, he smelled the faint traces of sweat and something...else...clinging to the Master. Suggesting perhaps, that the pair had been doing very little sleeping, and quite a bit of another something.
No doubt sensing Jashin's surprise, Vanna turned and looked at him, a bemused smile and a quirked eyebrow her response to his slightly stunned expression. Flushing silver, Jashin coughed, trying not to gape. "Er, uh, nice night out."
"You're surprised a Jedi would do...that?" Vanna inquired, walking over to Jashin. In response, Jashin ground his teeth a little. The woman was frustratingly blunt and to the point.
"I, uh, well I honestly never thought about it until literally just now." Admitted Jashin.
"In honesty, I never thought about it either, until the war began." Admitted Vanna, shaking her head. "I would say the force works in mysterious ways...but the truth is, war itself has an odd way of forcing people together and tearing them apart from each other. This too, I suppose, is also the will of the force."
"I understand." Replied Jashin, nodding slowly. "And I meant no offense - I was just surprised is all. I didn't realize the two of you were involved. I, uh, thought Jedi were against that - relationships of any kind, that is." Replied Jashin hastily.
"It is very new. I confess to still not knowing how I feel about it." Admitted Vanna. "As for the Jedi...well, they are somewhat more lax on the subject nowadays. Not that anyone asks me, a mere member of the geological corps." Shaking her head, Vanna rested a hand on Jashin's shoulder. "I sensed you in distress. Are you alright?"
For a long moment, Jashin contemplated shrugging off the hand, and going back to bed. But this Jedi, she was so...different. So blunt, so directly honest. In any other situation, he would have been suspicious that she was trying to manipulate him. But from the moment he had met this oddity, she had cut straight down to the truth of everything; the war, her problems, his, all of it. For some strange reason, he found he admired that. He found he trusted that. The woman's affair with the Commander also put him at ease. Jedi always seemed so un-relatable - denying all impulses within themselves in such a monastic way, that they seemed completely above the problems and fears of the common sentient. To meet one so...imperfect, yet perfectly honest about it all; it was refreshing.
"I...dreamt of my father. When I was young, I was trained as a House Guardsman - a skilled warrior to defend the interests of the Clan and House. I come from a long line of sensitives, though. When the time came for all the Guardsmen to be tested for sensitivity...I failed the test. Disappointed my father and my self. I let my family down, my planet down. I realized that day that I was inherently less than what I wanted to be." Explained Jashin slowly.
"Ah, that must have been crushing indeed. Do you know much of the Umbaran?" She inquired. At his shake of the head, she continued on, elaborating. "Firrerreo and Umbaran are similar, culturally. Clan is everything. Caste is everything. And we, as a species, are superior to all others - we are highly xenophobic. Take this as positive or negative as you will; but when we as individuals fail, it is often far more crushing to us than a normal sentient failing in an endeavor. We let down our Clan, our caste, and our species as opposed to just ourselves."
Jashin nodded, agreeing with the summation. "Did you fail, then? How did someone of your species become a Jedi?"
"Oh, that's a long tale indeed." Said Vanna, smiling brightly. "Suffice to say that I failed my Clan and Caste - my House. The crushing weight of that failure convinced me that I was inferior. As such, I exiled myself from my homeworld. I got into a fair bit of trouble before a Jedi found me; another Umbaran, at that. It took someone who had lived the life I lived, and could relate to my culture - so ingrained, it was integral to my being - to be able to reach me and make me begin to see things from various points of view. The encounter changed my life."
Jashin nodded slowly, thankful that the woman had shared. He shook his head, though, as he realized her fascination with him. "If you think you can change me, just because you can relate to me in ways others can't...you have a long and futile road ahead of you."
Vanna's tinkling laughter, like fine china, echoed out across the camp - and she clamped a hand over her mouth to mute it. "Oh, if you only knew how well I know that! And with the war going on, it isn't as if I could train you. Nor are you inclined, I think. But let me put something forward; something from another point of view. Do you not have force-sensitivity, or were you so afraid of failure that you it paralyzed you? Are you inherently inferior, or in denial? Are you mortified by familial disappointment - or locked in a cycle of self doubt and self loathing that prevents you from ever making that connection you attemped so many years ago? Beings like you and I, we see things in black and white: but is your situation so clear cut? Did your father ever say he was disappointed, or is that what you wanted to see? So bound by duty, so bound by honor, did the idea of failure being such an impossibility because it would utterly destroy your purpose - did it loom in your mind and sabotage you? Have you ever tried the test again? Have you, as a sentient being, ever questioned your complete acceptance of your failure...?"
Vanna's mouth twitched and she turned from him, raising a hand.
"Will you dishonor you and your House, continually, by just giving up? Or will you step up, and attempt to see things in a light and a view that allows you to try again? Answer these questions Jashin - as I did - and I guarantee you one thing, and one thing only; you won't be the person you are now. You may or may not succeed in that test long ago. You may or may not be a sensitive. But the shame you carry, the weight of your dishonor...you ay find it completely gone by the end. And, in the end...wouldn't that in of itself be worth trying again?"
And with that, the woman disappeared back into the tent....leaving Jashin to silently contemplate her words in the darkness of the night.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 27, 2017 22:43:56 GMT -8
Jashin had slept, rather fitfully - a rare occurrence - before being roused awake by a grim looking Alliance soldier with a rather nasty scar over his left eye, said eye being only being an empty and rather moist looking socket. Certainly something you wanted to awake to every day. Gathering his weapons, he grabbed a ration bar before making his way to the commanders table, where even now Vanna and Terris argued rather loudly over two different battle plans. Perhaps their relationship only compounded field issues such as these - though Jashin was certainly not about to ask that question of the two irate women. Instead, he made his way to the parked T-1B hovertank, where a few technicians worked on the repulsor vehicle.
"Pretty tank. Does it fight?" Asked Jashin, as he neared a group of technicians talking amongst themselves.
"She packs a punch. When she feels like it." Replied a middle-aged human, his voice echoing - the man not bothering to remove his head from the interior of the housing he was working on.
"And today she doesn't feel like fighting." Added the voice of a young woman, apparently underneath the vehicle.
"Need a hand? I served in the 22nd Armored in the Serenno Army before I went infantry." Offered Jashin, running an appraising eye over the vehicle. At that, the two techs poked their heads out, looking over the speaker a little more thoroughly - realization that it was the alien newcomer dawning on their faces.
"Er, well, sure, you're welcome to take a swat at it. Know anything about mark four Sienar power converters?" Replied the woman slowly - the two sharing a look before the man nodded in assent.
"Mark fours Sienars? We used to use Mark two Rendilis - they operate on the same duo-phasic containment system, with similar output." Said Jashin as he shrugged off his jacket and slid under the vehicle with the woman; a somewhat portly human woman, with red hair apparently. "The fours run a little hot for a tank of this grade. So I'm betting it was a field replacement?"
"Yup. Took her right out of an AT-ST, if we'd known the hassle it would be we would have strung together some speeder bike cells together and dealt with the power drop." Replied the male human, his voice echoing weirdly off the armor plating.
"I'm sure. I bet you're blowing out your capacitors anytime you fire a cannon or push the engines past sixty kph." Said Jashin between grunts as wiggled further under the tank to get a better view of the power converter housing. A mess of fried looking wires, spacers tape, and glue greeted him; the woman must have seen Jashin's look of horror, because she replied rather quickly and defensively.
"Hey! You try fixing this thing on the go while running from TIEs! It's not so easy!"
"I told you it was a crap job." Muttered the human male from outside.
"Alright alright. It is what it is. What have you tried so far?" Placated Jashin, reaching a hand out and moving a few wires aside to look at the converter directly.
"Inverted the regulation flow, de-coupled the auxiliary feeds; the usual."
"Is this a an A-series or B-series?" Asked Jashin, wiping a greasy hand on his shirt.
"What's it matter? They're identical with the exception of some minor software patches." Said the woman irritably.
"True." Replied Jashin slowly, trying to remember the specifications - it had been nearly seven years. "But the B series was prone to malfunctions during the first year of production. They had issues with faulty power cables; the HoloNet made a huge deal about it."
"I...yes. I remember now. A speeder exploded during a military parade - they sued Sienar for millions. Sienar had to recoup its losses, so they installed copious safety patches. If the converter senses a power bleed in the cables, it drops output in order to prevent fires and overloads." Said the human male excitedly, dropping down to the ground and joining the pair under the tank.
"So all you have to do is adjust the converter's safety sensor, or, at worse, just install some lower grade cables - and the converter's safety patch will compensate. You can fool it into getting the output you need." Finished Jashin.
"You know your stuff Gold - er - Jashin. Very impressive. I can't believe I didn't think of that." Said the human rather sheepishly.
"Don't beat yourself up over it. The only reason I remember it is because the incident was the reason we switched over to Rendili converters in the first place." As he spoke, Jashin crawled out from under the tank, wiping his hands on his shirt once more before donning his jacket. "In return for the helpful hint...maybe you two could fill me in on what we're up against? And what we have to work with ourselves?"
The two humans looked at each other briefly from under the tank, before they shrugged. Getting to work on the converter, the woman let the male speak as they swapped out power cables. "Sure. Why not. You're fighting with us. Well, the 33rd - a whole battalion - was tasked with evacuating farmers and the like. We had about twenty medium tanks like this one, five heavy tanks, 'bout fifty assorted speeder craft. We wanted air support, but everything was diverted to orbit. We were holed up in Jarrak base - more of an outpost than anything - pretty much a large hangar, command bunker, comm light shield array, and one turbolaser emplacement. Thing doesn't even have walls or defensive fortifications. Purely one of those pre-fab deals. We split the batallion into four units, each tasked with a different area of farmland. Stationed one at Jarrak at all times. We...didn't think the Order would go after mere farmers..."
The man trailed off for several seconds, before clearing his throat.
"First and second units, five hundred men plus pilots for the vehicles - they all got wiped out by orbital bombardment. Kinda a staple of the Order - soften a target up, then send in a cleanup crew. Third unit, another two hundred and fifty, well they got taken out by waves of TIE's...with Jarrak base itself, they took their time. Order didn't feel like setting up their own outlier recon base, so they gave orders to capture Jarrak whole. They sent two AT-AT's, four AT-STs, about four TIE's, and some-odd three hundred troopers. We held for a couple of hours; the shield generator got hooked up to one of the evac ships, boosted it quite a bit. We got what civvies we could onto the transports, gave cover fire best we could with the turbo...none of them made it. When we were overrun, we retreated, taking what farmers we could with us. Scrambled the emplacement codes, took out the deflector core, left em with naught but dirt and walls. Even after they took the base, they chased us...gunned down all but the thirty or so of us left here. As for what you have to work with...one tank, thirty solders, a Jedi, and two speeder bikes."
By the end, Jashin's somber expression had fallen straight into downright dark and depressing. The picture the mechanic painted, as far as odds of survival in retaking this base...it was suicidal.
Absolutely suicidal.
This was how Commander Terris and Master Hao found him, both clearing their throats simultaneously to get his attention.
"No." Jashin said firmly, before either could say a word.
"Jash -"
"No." Bit out Jashin, his hand coming to rest on his pistol. As he did so, seemingly out of nowhere a repeating blaster appeared in Teriss' hands, and about a half dozen soldiers with various weaponry soon joined her. But the hard glint in Jashin's eye - the cold calculating gaze of someone who refuses to die, at all costs - had Vanna's hand on Teriss' blaster, lowering it forcefully.
"Jashin, we have to. They have prisoners. They have a comm array! We have a plan. If you'll just listen." Pleaded Vanna, the plaintive tone most unbecoming of a Jedi, or so thought Jashin to himself.
"Why. Why should I risk my life for people I don't even know? None of you are my clan. Nor my species. What do I gain?" Retorted Jashin, something between maniacal laughter and a feral snarl on his lips at the absurdity of the request.
"What you gain is that I don't kill you where you stand." Bit out Commander Terris, seething, her weapon coming back up to draw a bead on Jashin's chest.
"You? You're going to kill me? Get in line, human. I've survived three battle campaigns, an Imperial concentration camp, and the wretched darkness of my Sith of a father - which is far, far worse than anything I've seen here on Dantooine girl. You want to kill me? Go and get your army. I'll be waiting. Because know one thing with absolute certainty - at the end of this and all other worlds, when all the stars blink out in the final heat death of the universe, the only survivors will be me and the bogan devil laughing over your rotting corpses." Laughter now bubbled up, and Jashin slowly drew his pistol, leveling it at Terris' head. It turns out cornering a species who is obsessed over their own survival wasn't a pretty thing; something Terris' disconcerted expression was a testament to. As a group the humans edged away from him slightly, and sensing their weakness, Jashin's finger began to depress the trigger...
"You gain a chance to prove you're better than humans." Replied Vanna softly. "You get a chance to prove that you're worthy of passing your father's test."
The words, softly spoken, nearly whispered, sounded deafeningly loud in the tense silence. Like a hammer, they slammed their way home - and Jashin's pistol sagged noticeably. Always, always the woman knew what to say to put him off balance. Always she struck out at the heart of things. Except, this time, Jashin was more confused by her words than anything else.
"I...what?" Asked Jashin dumbly, blinking slightly, his seething rage mere moments before completely forgotten.
"Have you not ever wondered why an Umbaran such as me, would risk so much for sentients outside of her caste? And beyond me, what of FIrrerreo Jedi - that, though there were few, did indeed exist? How do you explain their selfless acts?" Inquired Vanna forcefully, demanding an answer with her signature quiet dignity.
"I've never thought about it." Admitted Jashin, his pistol wavering in his grasp before he let his arm fall. As one, the soldiers visibly relaxed - albeit Terris did not.
"Someone who is found to be force-sensitive...they are chosen, elevated above their own species into a new clan, a new caste; this one being responsible for acting and behaving in a capacity above the common. They are held to a higher power, the force, in upholding and practicing a tradition that transcends all other species' cultures. Indeed, species such as ours, who are so clan and caste centric - when they became Jedi, they explain to their brethren that all sentients now belong to their clan. That they protect all, welcome all, and serve to the benefit of all." Replied Vanna.
"I..." Stuttered Jashin, at a worse for words. Not mere moments earlier, he had been so sure. His heritage, his traditions, his very blood screamed out and urged him to rebel against the words. But now... "Damn you, Umbaran. Damn you and your words!"
"Jashin. Everything you've done up till now...it hasn't unlocked your potential, has it? You can feel it. You have to feel it. So trust me, trust me and change your thinking; help another sentient, show compassion. I'm not asking you to abandon your species - Firrerreo before you have found ways to blend their traditions and the Jedi way together successfully. All I'm asking, is that you try. If I can do it, then you can do it."
"I'm a killer." Retorted Jashin.
"I was a thief." Shot back Vanna.
"I have no power!" Spluttered Jashin.
"You have no faith!" Corrected Vanna.
"I'm a bad person." Protested Jashin.
"You want to change." Assured Vanna.
"I had my chance!" Spat out Jashin.
"You have a new one, right now!" Shouted Vanna, her words echoing through the camp.
Vanna's words hung in the air, heavy, poignant. Her words, her logic, absolutely foreign, waged with a lifetime of common sense. Jashin's pistol traced circles in the air, his hand and arm - his whole body - trembling violently. A feral and bestial snarl rattled its way out of his throat and past his lips, his teeth flashing dangerously. But the Umbaran just held his gaze. A thousand reasons to simply kill the woman rose to mind. A million to simply walk away. Only one reason to stay, the words of a Jedi and a stranger, a single word; faith. Slowly, his arm lowered, and with a distinct *snck* it slid back into its holster. Sinking to the ground, something between a snarl and a strangled sob choked its way out from the golden alien. "I...I..." The words caught in his throat before he could say anything. Because the truth was...he wanted to believe. He was so, so very tired of running. Running away from family, from duty, from his heritage. Of going from job to job, scheme to scheme, never achieving anything meaningful. He wished, dearly, that he could rewind the clock back to that day in the meditation hall - to try again, so that maybe, just maybe, his fate could turn out differently.
"I believe." Came the soft, albeit gruff words. Rising from the ground, clasping the Jedi master's hands, his skin silver, his eyes wide, Jashin's voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper. "I will believe, Jedi. If only so I can try again, one more time."
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2017 21:41:48 GMT -8
They waited till just before dawn, moving forward slowly across the plains - their minimum speed being such they didn't kick up any dust. Idly, Jashin sat on the edge of the hovertank as it surged forward; also on the tank some twenty others, the tank serving as a transport in lieu of anything else. He had been told the plan, after everything had calmed down. And it was still suicide. Yet, here he was, going into battle with these assorted beings...on either side of the tank a speeder bike each, manned by Master Vanna and Commander Terris respectively. Even now, the bright searchlights of Jarrak base (recently installed, courtesy of the Order) loomed in the distance. The Jedi gave some unseen signal, and the convoy came to a halt, not daring to go further lest sensors pick them up.
"Ok. Terris, Jashin, you're with me on my bike. The sensor jammer should keep us under cover. Spots, Spuds, I want your laucnhers ready to take down the TIE patrol. Squad one is to cover the launchers. Squads two and three will ride on the tank after our insertion. Anything more than that...it's is up to the Force." Said the Jedi, her voice a hoarse whisper.
"What? You didn't say anything about the alien coming with us. He'll weigh us down." Protested the Commander in hushed tones, her eyes glued to the base in the distance.
"We can't break sixty kph anyway. They'll see the dust trail and pick us up on sensors. One more person isn't going to hurt anything; and he said he was special forces. He needs to be on the insertion team. And to be given a proper weapon." Replied the Jedi, her tone holding no room for argument. Silently, the Commander passed a bandolier of ammunition and grenades to Jashin, along with an A280C blaster rifle - wooden stock, cut down barrel. Looking over the weapon, making sure the power pack Jashin donned the bandolier before mounting the speederbike along with the Commander and Vanna. It was cramped, to say the least.
"Let's go. Before I chicken out." Muttered Jashin to the two women's backs. The Commander seemed to stiffen at that (apparently still not trusting him after his stunt at camp), but Vanna just laughed quietly, starting the bike, and easing it forward.
What seemed a snails pace, the bike traveled across the plains - though, fifty kph was as fast as they could push it without fear of being picked up by the sensors. All three, though, kept their eye on the dimly lit readout on the speeder bike's console; the simple display showing their sensor jammer to be active, a pair of green lights indicating that they were not being actively scanned. Should the sensor sweep (broadly) over them, they would flash yellow. Should the sensor sweep narrow its focus, the lights would flash red - the whole of it being a good indicator that they had been spotted. Add to this that they had to weave in and out of the twin searchlights erected by Order engineers, as well as hope and pray that they didn't get spotted by the naked eye by sheer luck.
They chose dawn so that they would catch guards between shifts, and so that a good portion of the barracks would either be sleeping or just waking up. They would drive the speeder slowly to the perimeter, then gun the engine to close the final distance. Their goal: the turbolaser tower. They'd storm the tower, get it on line, and then deal with the armored threats.
Ah yes, the armored threats. In the distance, an AT-AT walked in a seemingly aimless patrol pattern. It's bulk deceptive, once an alarm was sounded it would take less than five minutes for it to return to base. Then there were two AT-STs to worry about, circling around Jarrak base. Two more AT-STs were in the hangar undergoing routine maintenance and refueling - but would no doubt be manned as soon as trouble was spotted. A trio of TIE's also roamed the area - further out than the AT-AT, and would make it back to base within ten minutes. Finally, another trio of TIE's in the commandeered hangar, being refueled and repaired.
Again. It was suicide.
Slowly the bike surged forward, dipping and weaving to avoid particularly dusty patches of the plains (the area had long been smoldering and burning after bombardment), though they were fortunate in that the smoke from the fires was largely concealing them. Even now, well within range of the search lights, the smoke was simply illuminated like a fog - impenetrable and blinding to both Alliance and FO. But not, thankfully, to the finely tuned senses of a Jedi. The bike swerved, then, jarring Jashin out of his thoughts. Nervously, he looked down at the diode to find it lit yellow; holding his breath, he watched and waited for it to turn back. But it never did. Instead it turned red, and the speeder bike revved in response.
"We've been made!" Shouted Terris as the bike tore through the smoke and fog, the ash giving way to the sight of the base, not several hundred meters before them. The speeder shrieked, its engines maxed out - and the base seemed to race towards them. But that wasn't all: search lights focused on the speeder, an alarm klaxon began to blare - and just around the corner of the base, an AT-ST walked out of cover and into firing range, its laser cannons drawing a bead.
Before it could fire, though, a pair of cannon shots impacted the side of the walker, ballooning the cockpit out in a conflagration of fire and twisted metals - before the walker fell to the ground in a smoking heap. Behind them, the tank rumbled over the hill, its cannons cycling, the soldiers cheering.
And then they arrived. The speeder zipped past a sensorpost - the only thing passing for a wall for the scrawny outpost - and Jashin readied a pair of thermal detonators. A toss into the hangar, and a long second later, a pair of explosions shredded the grounded TIE fighters held within. The bike decelerating, Vanna half crashed the thing into the base of the turbolaser tower - the force of the stop making Jashin bit the inside of his mouth.
But there was no time to dwell on it. The Jedi was leaping through the air, a brilliant green blade igniting - as she fell to the ground, she spun, bisecting a pair of confused Stormtroopers.
"Tower! Now!" The Jedi shouted, spinning her blade and reflecting a blaster bolt back into the chest of the unwary trooper.
"Go, go, go!" Screamed Terris, as she dismounted the bike, tossing a grenade towards the barracks entrance, her blaster pulsing a line of bolts into a squad of Troopers.
And just like that, Jashin snapped out of his daze. He was back on a battlefield, like so long ago. Automatically, without him realizing it, his blaster swung up and pulsed - controlled bursts, for maximum grouping - a heavy trooper went down, his leg slag. Turning to the durasteel security door of the tower, he mounted the breaching grenades, before taking cover - laying down suppressive fire for Terris all the while. A pair of THUMPS boomed out across the compound, the security door bowed inward along with flame and dead troopers - and Terris and Jashin ran through the destroyed portal. Two surprised guards were mowed down in an instant by the pairs rifles - a third was decked by a mighty swing thrown by Jashin, sending the man sprawling to the ground: a shot to the head finishing him.
"Sweep and clear! Terris cover six, I'm point!" Effortlessly, he slipped back into old routine and old protocol, the rifle snug against his shoulder, the blaster zeroed at twenty meters. Running up the stairs of the tower (for the prefabricated building was so basic as to be devoid of turbolift), Jashin paused at each level to confirm the lack of threats. In this, it seemed, they had lucked out: the Alliance codes had locked out the turbolaser emplacement, and the First Order techs had yet to break the programming. As such, the device was unpowered and unmanned, secured only by the guards at the base.
Coming to the top of the tower - a basic control room - Commander Terris immediately went to the control console. "These codes better work! Working...working...got it! Generator at twenty percent, blaster gas at ten percent...bogan! We'll only get a handful of shots!" Shouted Terris as she inserted control chips and typed away at the console.
"It doesn't matter! Take out the AT-AT!" Growled Jashin back at her, crouched in the stairwell, his rifle aimed at the stairs below him. Already he heard booted feet clamoring up the stairwell - and far too soon for his liking, the eggshell white of Stormtrooper helmets bobbed into view. His blaster pulsed, a pair of troopers fell; but the third ducked under cover. Not that it mattered. Tossing a concussion grenade down the stairs, he quickly ducked back into the control room, hitting the panel for the security door to close. A long second passed, followed by terrified yells and the muffled *THUMP* of the grenade...then silence. "We've got maybe a minute before they decide to breach the door or just take down the whole damn tower. Sitrep?"
"Seventy percent reinstated. We will have battle readiness in twenty seconds." The Commander replied in clipped tones - her fingers flying across the control boards. Even as she spoke, hydraulics whirred and the cannon came to life - spinning on the rail that ringed the tower, it drew a bead on the (now) not so distant AT-AT. A light turbolaser, the weapon would be more than able to pierce the hulking walkers armor. Or, at the least, demolish the command section of the beast.
"Ten seconds!"
In the distance, the AT-AT's cannons pulsed: the laser cannon rounds missing wildly. But these were just tracing shots. The walker was out of targeting computer range, but could quickly calculate new firing solutions using tracer fire.
"Five seconds!"
The walker's cannons pulsed again - one round missing, but the second scoring a whole into the side of the tower. Being a tracing round, they were highly underpowered, incapable of doing any serious damage. Now that the technicians had zeroed in, though, the next round would be at full power and on target.
"FIRING!!!" Terris' scream came at the exact moment the turbolaser roared in response, spitting a duo of crimson bolts at the AT-AT in the distance. At the same time, though, the AT-At fired: the bolts passed each other in mid air, the turbolaser blasts striking the AT-AT in the cockpit, sending it down to the ground. Meanwhile, the tower crumbled around Terris and Jashin - the tower falling to the side to crash into the ground in a cloud of dust.
Only time would tell if anyone was left alive or not. Until then, the rest of the Alliance had a battle to win.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Mar 6, 2017 18:06:14 GMT -8
The Stalwart-class freighter dropped through the clouds, a distant speck on the horizon - Jarrak base - quickly becoming more and more visible. Thanks to a combination of force-sense and good old sensor tracking (thanks to Jashin's wrecked freighter) they were quickly able to ascertain his general location. Jarrak base, little more than a turbolaser tower, hangar, and command bunker served as an evacuation area for west Garang. That is, until the First Order took it over. Even now, a small Alliance force was in the process of taking it back - Jashin being in the midst of this fight.
The Stalwart closing with the base, the exact specifics of the fighting became clear: a hovertank and two squads of Alliance troops rushed the base, even as explosions blossomed across the base, demolishing one of the base's two AT-ST's, and collapsing the hangar on three grounded TIE fighters. Even as they spoke, though, the second AT-ST was bearing its cannons on the advancing force. In the distance, an AT-AT - the largest threat the base had to offer - was slowly turning to engage the threats at the base. Its cannons firing, it fired once, twice, then three times at the turbolaser tower: the third blast connecting with the tower just as the tower itself fired, AT-AT and turbolaser mutually destroying each other simultaneously. A trio of TIE's meanwhile, were making back to base to offer air support; and close to fifty Stormtroopers offered up quite a bit of resistance to the some odd thirty Alliance troops.
It was into this warzone, that Jakk would deposit the crew. The Stalwart swooping low, the ramp lowering, the half-turret thumping as it laid down covering fire, Jakk practically screamed to any who could hear him. "Get off the damn ship so I can give you cover!"
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Post by Sinina Riso on Mar 6, 2017 21:00:20 GMT -8
Not really. Price of being raised on Naboo mostly..
*She sighed softly and shakes her head. It wasn't something she'd had a hole lot of time to experience. Etti was her first real taste of battle. And she felt she did okay. But the stories she'd heard of her mother and her friends, this was not that bad. She'd heard stories of planets being near uninhatiable after them. She bites her lip, not wanting to argue the point, they had work to do. She sighs and jerks Tanara's shoulder as she stood up, turning towards the exit of the cockpit.*
Well, off we go. We got ground to cover.
*she quickly made her way through the ship and jumped off the ramp. She started off in the direction that Jakk had explained. She had grabbed her saber in one hand, but didn't light it, and her blaster in the other. She had the same determined look on her face she'd bore since deciding to leave for this trip.*
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Zalor Anneri
Crew of the Wayward Son
There will be justice for Theed. Trust my anger.
Posts: 296
Affiliation: None (currently) - Jedi Shadows(formerly)
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Zalor Anneri on Mar 6, 2017 21:31:00 GMT -8
As soon as the freighter broke through the clouds, Zalor stood up to his full height, having stayed holding on to the back of Tanara's seat for most of the ride, so he could get a view of the action. He immediately checked all of his gear - his S-5 pistol was in his holster. He grabbed it, loaded a fresh cell, then put it back in his holster. He took off his satchel, took out Freyyr's old Bowcaster, and loaded it also. When he was satisfied, he put the exotic rifle back in his satchel, then threw the satchel back over his shoulder. Lastly, he reached for his lightsaber hilt, then gave it a small pat. Only in emergencies, he thought to himself. He hoped he wouldn't need it, but with them heading straight into a battlefield, he had a deep feeling in his gut that he might.
With his gear ready and in place, Zalor pulled out his S-5 from his holster, then turned to Artoo, drawing a deep breath before speaking. "Ready, Artoo? Just like ol' times, huh buddy?"
[Whistle-beep-click-beep-beep] The droid didn't seem to share Zalor's sentiments.
Zalor nodded with a nervous smile. "Yeah, don't remind me."
Without turning to face her, Zalor quickly called over to his Twi'lek friend... "Tanara, if you've still got any of those old jamming pods Asha gave you, now'd be a good time to...Tanara?" Zalor could sense that Tanara wasn't well. He turned to look at her and saw that she was staring blankly out the front view port. She seemed shaken. He could sense a lot of tension in her.
Then he remembered - to Tanara, this wasn't just a Jedi training facility. Dantooine was her home. She had grown up here under her grandfather's watchful eye. Now she was witnessing it being torn apart. Zalor couldn't imagine how traumatizing it had to have been to watch the carnage below.
Zalor walked over and gently put both his hands on her shoulders to get her to snap out of her daze. "Tanara - Tanara, we gotta go. There's nothing we can do for the planet, but we have a new ally to go and rescue. C'mon! I need your help."
With that, Zalor ran towards the now opening ramp to the freighter, giving Artoo one more pat as he passed the astro droid. R2-D4 began to roll down the ramp after his master.
When Zalor and R2 landed on the ground - their first touch of Dantooine soil in almost a decade, they saw that Sinina was already on the ground waiting for them. He could still sense a great amount of anxiety and impatience in the Echani woman. As he didn't really want her to run off and get herself killed, he felt the need to assert himself as the group's leader, although it wasn't his original intention to do so. He walked up to her and gave her a serious look.
"Okay, so - I realize we barely know each other, so asking you to trust me is probably going to be difficult. All the same, I need you to trust me. Let's try and stick together, alright? Last thing we n..."
Zalor was briefly interrupted as a stray turbolaser shot hit the ground only fifteen feet from where they stood, showering dirt at the group. Zalor flinched and shielded himself from the dirt.
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Tanara Ajahn
The Organization
Posts: 249
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Tanara Ajahn on Mar 6, 2017 22:15:01 GMT -8
She was barely even aware that the freighter had begun to enter the atmosphere, much less was about to make landfall. Her mind was still scattered with sorrow and helplessness. She didn't even register when the dark skinned Echani woman shook her shoulder. Memories of her nightmares were keeping her trapped inside her mind. All the death and wanton destruction around her homeworld was-Zalor walked over and gently put both his hands on her shoulders to get her to snap out of her daze. "Tanara - Tanara, we gotta go. There's nothing we can do for the planet, but we have a new ally to go and rescue. C'mon! I need your help."
She transferred what controls remained in the co-pilot's seat to the pilot and stood. As she did so, she pulled out two earpiece comm links, setting one over her ear cone, and placed the other in front of the pilot."Here, we'll use these to communicate. The frequency is already set and encrypted with my own custom encryption. Not even the best slicers on Nar Shaddaa could crack it. I highly doubt the First Order will do any better."She then spun on her heel and strode out of the cockpit with a fierce determination. She didn't even slow down to grab her pack, which she had set on the ground by the cockpit door. She simply held out her hand and focused the Force around the straps and summoned them to her hand. With no hesitation she slung her back over her shoulders, clicked the straps and belt together and tightened them to a snug fit. As she moved to the loading ramp, she also made sure her pair of DH-18 pistols were loaded and ready for action, strapped in their holsters low on her hips. She followed her friend and the astromech droid as they dropped off the ramp onto the surface. She wasted no time and activated her earpiece.
:: We're on the ground. Get clear. Over. ::
She wanted to take the time to appreciate finally being back on her homeworld, the familiar air and gravity, but she knew she couldn't. Instead, she marched up to Zalor and Sinina and handed them both the same model of earpieces that she was wearing and had given to the pilot.
"Put these on, we're gonna need them. Artooie, scan the area, we need some cover, what's our best bet?"
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Mar 6, 2017 23:01:06 GMT -8
Approaching from behind the formation, the crew would find themselves behind the Alliance soldiers; who, currently, were stalled in their advance. The T-1B hovertank had taken damage to its repulsors - the eight meter long craft sinking to the ground. To compensate, the pilots had extended the shields double front, widening the screen to protect not only the craft, but the Alliance squads flanking the craft on either side. Already the soldiers were prone to the ground, exchanging blaster fire, while a pair of soldiers with missile launchers blasted away at the fortification before them.
And what a fortification it was. Orginally simply a prefabricated bunker plopped down by the Alliance, the bunker had been shored up by the First Order with a shield generator, targeting scramblers, F-web repeating blaster emplacements, and shallow trenches. Extending the shield as far as possible, a lone AT-ST stalked the perimeter of these emplacements, just under the cover of the shields - the walker's competent pilot using the targeting scramblers to his advantage: the Alliance missiles unable to get a lock, the vehicle dodged and weaved in a surprisingly deft manner out of the way of he slow anti-vehicular missiles. Unable to exchange blaster fire, the AT-St opted to take pot shots with its mounted heavy grenade launcher, essentially a mobile mortar, peppering the Alliance position with small - albeit powerful - explosions.
Over this, the F-webs thumped away, and Stormtroopers and Alliance alike crawled across the ground, exchanging fire, tossing grenades, and, in general simply trying to stay alive. It would be a race: either the Alliance could fix the tank and press the attack past the bunker shield, or time would run out, TIE support would arrive for the bunker, and they would be taken out from above.
But the Alliance had a trump card. A lone pale blue skinned woman, bald, an Umbaran - wielding a lightsaber of purest green. Standing before the tank and its shield, out from under its cover, she dipped, weaved, and parried every shot she was able: doing everything in her power to take the strain off the shields, and to give the pilots of the tank even a few more seconds of time. As the tower at the edge of the encampment fell to the ground, though, she seemed to stumble, losing focus: and the next few moments would tell if the Alliance team would live or die as Jashin's friends arrive to the scene, as the master was struck in the gut by a Stormtroopers blaster bolt.
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Flame. Dust. The air practically burned from the heat.
His vision swam, before slowly solidifying - the darkness leaving the edges of his vision. Rubble was all around him, dust covered everything, and blood pooled on the ground around him. With a grunt, he twisted slowly, testing to see if any bones were broken; and as he did so, he froze, finding the face of Commander Terris but scant inches from his own. Her eyes unseeing, her expression slack, a small trickle of blood ran from her temple were a stone had struck her just so, just right, rendering her quite dead. A mix of emotions flooded him. Rage, animal and primal. Sadness, that a comrade had fallen. Irritation, that he felt such for a human.
He twisted out from under the rubble, moving stone and ferrocrete with alien strength. Idly, he realized if he had been in the stairwell, that he himself would be dead as well. Only through luck - his own brand of sadistic luck - was he alive and moving. Well, save for his left arm. Even now it hung limply, dislocated. A jerk, a growl, and a all too loud *crack* echoed as the Firrerre forcible put the joint back into place, his healing factor going to work. The pain gave him clarity. Gave him focus. Standing, pulling the A280C from the rubble (checking it for battle readiness, of course) he bent down to the Commander, pulling off her shoulder pauldron and rank insignia, before strapping on the pauldron to his left shoulder. If the woman had not shared the same rank as him, he would not have dared consider it. But now...
If only for the fact he had failed Master Hao by let the woman's lover die, he would help these soldiers take the bunker.
Stumbling over the rubble, passing through the shroud of dust, Jashin half tripped out the ruin of the turbolaser tower onto the greater battlefield. Just in time to see Master Hao receive the bolt to the gut. The woman, so graceful, so seemingly unstoppable one second - now simply a crumpled form on the ground, being dragged backward by Alliance soldiers. Even now, Stormtroopers advanced on the position, under the cover of the AT-ST some five hundred meters away.
"TROOPERS!" The shout was accompanied by a scream, long and oscillating, a feral and primal sound that raised the hairs on lesser "prey" sentients. It was the sound of a predator. And then he was on them, Jashin a golden blur of snarling rage that ran down the hill from the tower to the thick of the engagement between the Alliance and Order. A fist struck out, and a sickening snap resounded as alien strength sent a human head snapping back with enough force to break the neck. A savage stomp followed, delivered to the back of the knee of a retreating trooper - a savage twist of the hands, and yet another neck broke, the trooper's lifeless body falling to the side. A third attempted to strike him in the head with the butt of his rifle - and Jashin swept his arm to the side, deflecting the blow: grasping the human, he yanked him close, and Jashin's head flashed forward. A snap of jaws, a sickening sound of flesh ripping, and the trooper fell to join his compatriots - his throat bitten out by the Firrerreo.
Shock and disorientation reigned. Stormtroopers in the advance formation scattered, unaccustomed to dealing with a sentient being who, quite frankly, barely seemed sentient at the moment. No, this seemed akin to some Wookie battle rage than any thinking soldier. Only snarls came from the alien; snarls, growls, and snaps of the jaws. The only sound that reminded the troopers that he was anything but animal, was the laughter...
Mocking nearly maniacal laughter, which made the alien's animal rage all the more menacing.
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Post by Sinina Riso on Mar 7, 2017 4:32:46 GMT -8
*Sin's biggest combat had been Etti, where they had dropped into the complex grounds, when they did fight it was close quarters, in hallways. It was pretty simple and easy. This was a battlefield, a completely foreign place for her. She looked at Zalor and nodded, it seemed like a good idea, save for the turbolaser shot. She fell back, ears ringing as the ground they'd stood in was now in every direction but where it had been.
It didn't take her long to return to her feet, the runes glowing again almost with renewed vigor. She didn't even think twice about it as her lips started to chant in the language the Nightsisters spells used. Slowly a fog fell around them, she smiled, this would ease their path, hide them from the turbolasers at least. Just as she were about to start forwards, Tanara handed her an ear bud. She wasn't so lost in her emotions that logic was unavailable. She stuck it in her ear and started to stalk forward, opting for stealth over brute force.
Only moments after starting forwards, the first trooper appeared through the fog, and she turned and accurately spent a single bolt from her blaster into the neck seal of his armour watching him crumple her smile widened. So far this was not as bad of an experience as she'd thought it would be. But she was growing famous for being overconfident.
She heard sounds in the distance, it didn't sound like anything she would have expected on the battlefield, an animal? No... She there wouldn't be any here. She tapped her forehead with the blaster stupidly. She shakes her head points it in the direction of the sound. She looked back at the others, hoping there were still in sight.*
I think that way.
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Zalor Anneri
Crew of the Wayward Son
There will be justice for Theed. Trust my anger.
Posts: 296
Affiliation: None (currently) - Jedi Shadows(formerly)
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Zalor Anneri on Mar 7, 2017 21:24:59 GMT -8
[Loud whistle-beep-beep-click]
R2-D4 had just started scanning the area when he let out a loud whistle, alerting the group of incoming hostile infantry headed straight in their direction.
Zalor had no sooner taken an earpiece from Tanara and quickly installed it his right ear when he immediately began to notice an eerie fog cover the battlefield. It was unexplained, and it wasn't the fog machine from Artoo, although he considered having Artoo use it. He reached out with the Force to try and pinpoint the source of the eerie fog, only to discover that it was coming from....Sinina?
Zalor's mind immediately focused solely on the Echani woman accompanying them, completely ignoring the barrage of blaster fire surrounding them on all sides. He watched her movements closely. When he did so, he noticed something on her skin that he hadn't paid attention to before: glowing runes, which stood out against her dark toned skin. They were cryptic, and in a language he didn't recognize. He also saw her lips moving, and noticed that she was chanting, also in a language he hadn't heard her speak before. It wasn't Mandalorian, or Huttese, or anything Zalor even remotely recognized. The energy surrounding her became dark, as if drawing from the Dark Side of the Force. This disturbed Zalor to his core. Who was this woman, really? She was no Jedi, certainly. Of course, she wasn't really a Sith, either. Not like Zulataan or Negue Ragnos. Yet, the Dark Side of the Force was obviously strong with her. Could she be...
Suddenly, a flash of red blaster shots flew past Zalor, and he found himself in front of four First Order Stormtroopers headed his way, their weapons all aimed at him. He quickly aimed his weapon, fired five green shots from his S-5 blaster, four of which met their targets, and all four Stormtroopers fell in quick succession.
Now that his mind was once again attuned to the battlefield around him - in the midst of all the blaster fire, Zalor heard another familiar sound, one he hadn't heard in a long time - the hum of a lightsaber blade. He turned to his left where there were Alliance soldiers and a hovertank. In front of them, bravely defending the soldiers was a female Jedi, with her bright green blade deflecting as many shots as she could. Makashi form - Zalor recognized it immediately. Not as efficient at blocking blaster shots as Zalor's mastery of Soresu form, but she was still...
...hit! A blaster shot to the stomach and down she went.
Zalor quickly turned to see where his companions went. To his dismay, Tanara and Sinina had already left him behind and were fifty feet ahead of him and Artoo, headed further into the fighting. He then turned back to the wounded Jedi, now on the ground. Zalor cursed under his breath, then - without another second's thought - reached to tap his earpiece. ::Guys! Jedi on the field! She's wounded, we need to help her!::
Without waiting for a response from either Tanara or Sinina, Zalor sprang into action. He took off running in the direction of the Alliance soldiers and the fallen Jedi. He was met with more blaster fire from First Order Stormtroopers across the kill zone from them, to which he returned fire with his S-5 while still running frantically towards the fallen Jedi. When he finally reached her, he reached down and grabbed the back of the neckline of her robe with his left hand and began dragging her towards the damaged hovertank, while firing suppression shots at the stormtroopers with his blaster. The Force guided his aim, and he was able to score a few direct hits as he pulled the Jedi woman along the ground. "I got'cha! You're gonna be alright - hang on!" Zalor only paused briefly to Force pull the Jedi's lightsaber hilt to him, before hooking it onto his belt for later, so he could give it back to her, then resumed dragging the blue-skinned Jedi woman back behind the safety the front line of the Alliance soldiers she was leading.
When Zalor had successfully pulled the Jedi woman safely behind the hovertank, out of the stormtroopers' line of fire, he began to examine her injuries, just the way his mother, Erris Anneri, had taught him. Thankfully, the blaster shot had only hit her lower left side, just below the kidney. It was non-lethal. This Jedi would live to fight another day.
Zalor breathed a sigh of relief, then turned to look the stunned Jedi in the eyes. "My name is Zalor Anneri, and I'm a friend of the Alliance. You're gonna be alright. The Force is strong with both of us today."
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Tanara Ajahn
The Organization
Posts: 249
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Tanara Ajahn on Mar 7, 2017 22:27:54 GMT -8
Tanara had figured that Sinina was Force Sensitive, but she wouldn't have been able to predict that she was as adept as she was. Within seconds of her strange chanting, an unnatural fog rolled in and provided them some cover. It wasn't entirely a Dark Side power, as she didn't feel all that nauseated, but it definitely was no Light Side power either. She must've learned it from one of the other dark side factions, most likely being the Nightsisters of Dathomir. The Echani woman had earlier admitted to having a Nightsister mother. For now though, it really didn't matter.
She too, heard the strange noises coming from the lines of stormtroopers. It was possible that the origin of the noises was the man they were supposed to be rescuing, though she would admit that it certainly didn't sound like a humanoid male. She nodded to the Echani and gestured for her to continue on.
"Okay, go check it out, but try to keep out of the fight as much as you can. I've got my eyes on a different target."
She heard her friend inform them, via their earpieces, that there was a Jedi on the battlefield requiring aid. The Twi'lek knew her friend could handle healing, so she returned her attention to the biggest prize on the battlefield since the AT-AT was destroyed. The AT-ST. After giving an order to the astromech droid to find somewhere to bunker down, she carefully stayed out of sight and moved to get a good look at the walker. It looked like a fairly standard model, though she couldn't be sure there weren't upgrades that she wouldn't have been aware of. She pulled out a custom-made, fist sized device out of her pocket and threw it as hard as she could toward the AT-ST. She knew it wouldn't make it all the way, and so she quickly gathered some Force power and sent it out in a highly concentrated form of Force Push. The wave of Force power propelled the device forward with a massive surge of speed. It slammed into the side of the body of the walker and began to drill small holes through the armor. While the device did it's job, the Twi'lek girl backed off and regrouped with the astromech.
"Artooie, activate the hard light generator and give me the cockpit of a standard Imperial AT-ST."
Two years ago she had installed a prototype device into the astromech. It was similar to a standard holo-projector, except that this hologram could be interacted with and manipulated. She knew there were other devices that could create holographic touch screens, but she wanted to develop something that could replicate actual three-dimensional objects as interactive holograms. Unfortunately, the generator was still plagued with issues and only worked properly for roughly twenty minutes. However, for what she intended to do, she guessed she would only have maybe ten, if she was lucky. The device she had planted on the AT-ST was seeking out a connection to the internal systems of the walker. Once it found one, she would be able to remotely slice into every single system, and reroute controls to the holographic projector.
It was only another thirty seconds before she had access to one of the systems in the walker. Working quickly through her tablet, she smashed through the firewalls and seized all the controls, locking out the physical controls inside the cockpit. She then transferred the controls to the hologram through the astromech.
:: Okay, let's see if this works... ::
She was very familiar with the control layout of nearly every walker that had been mass-produced, but she had never actually piloted one before. And certainly not when she wasn't even in the vehicle to begin with. She would have to rely on her Force Sight to guide her. First she tested out her movement controls, having the AT-ST take several steps back and forth. She frowned as she noted that there was a two second delay between her controls and the actual result. Yet another issue for her to work on. For now though, she would make do. She then tested aiming the turbolasers and fired off several shots into the lines of Stormtroopers. Only one shot actually managed to hit anything, killing two stormtroopers.
She started to feel a little exposed, so she quickly pulled out a small shield generator and set it down at her feet. Assuming nothing attacked them, the internal power source would allow the shield to last for fifteen minutes or so. While the shield wouldn't protect them from orbital bombardment, it could sustain two or three direct hits from a starfighter or some sort of armoured vehicle or walker. Anything more than that would cause the shield to overload. Hopefully no one would notice them.
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