Trull Ordo
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Post by Trull Ordo on Jul 5, 2013 11:58:00 GMT -8
Nuhatyc Boarding Team
Two more Bes'uliike landed, pulling up behind Gannis and Seroc. They were unremarkable craft. They were piloted by remarkable people. One a female, in green and white armor with a black shortcloak falling to her waist. She kept her arms folded beneath that cloak, hiding her secrets beneath it and a suit of Shock Trooper armor. The only weapon visible was a Ripper on her right leg. This was Scala Vau. Her companion wore black and white armor, in the style of Mandalorian Supercommandos. While Scala hid her weapons, this man, Ori Bralor, wore his openly. A long sword hung at his left hip, and a Ripper in a special holster hung at his right. He openly wore grenades and a carbine on his back, as well, and a kama of gold and red hung at his waist. Paired with the kama were pauldrons of red and gold.
Silently resting his hands on the pommel of his weapon, Ori stepped forward and stood next to Seroc. Scala had slapped his ass as he passed her, armor clanking against armor, and he had snorted amusedly. Now she stood behind him, swaying her hips in that distracting way that she did. Seroc had started the talking, and they let him handle it for now, and Ori stepped off to the left, looking about in the most nonchalant way he could muster. He'd be lying if he tried to tell anybody that the Mando'ade didn't plan to be killing anybody today, but why let that make things awkward?
Tra'vod
Stars.
Something in Trull never got over the vastness of space. That immense black void peppered by needles of light. It felt like a world in itself, and then you go exploring through it and find worlds uncounted which feel just as vast when you approach them. Then you look at that approached world, and turn look back into the void? Oh, how mighty is the void. How insignificant man and his causes, his feuds and fights, in the face of the void. In another life, in a life devoid of Kad and his purging truths, in a life devoid of the Mando way, maybe Trull would have been an astronomer, a slackjawed stargazer. That life was not this life. This life was blood and service.
"Kad's fire be lit, the purging done," he prayed, steering the Blastboat into the docking bay of the station. "Cleansed, to your glory." He did not set them down, instead idly floating in the hangar. Keeping his eyes forward and alert, looking for trouble, Trull commed his commander. Orders, Aliit'alor?
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Post by Alek Dyre on Jul 7, 2013 11:43:28 GMT -8
It wasn't comfortable having Damus amongst the group down here in the hanger. Alek knew a bit of Mandalorian but he wasn't going to mouth off speaking another language just incase he accidentally spoke something else unintentionally. He didn't like this situation, he hated it. Its fun when your not the one cornered and outnumbered, and if life is being threatened here, Alek would lash out like a vicious lion protecting his pride. His hood remained up above his head and his arms crossed but now he was alone. Standing in the hanger by himself.
Moments Ago..
Onasi swore he could feel the anger emitting from Alek, situations like these usually didn't worry him. So it must be something else, there was a moment when Damus and Alek had a stare off. He wondered who would of backed down first until surprisingly Damus had stepped back while looking away, Alek looked at Onasi and motioned towards Damus. He followed the both of them to the hanger bay doors then stopped Onasi. Check in on the repairs, we'll need more time. I'll buy that time for us. He said to his friend.
Onasi starred at him, something had changed in his expression, something empty had replaced something to live for. A pirate usually tried to get away from death the best he could, stop at nothing to break free and live longer. It was like Alek had suddenly lost that need, Alek said one more thing. If something happens down here, drop the screen shielding and flood the hanger and make the jump. Even if I'm still in here. Got it? Onasi nodded to his captain. And If we survive this Onasi, your the captain. He smirked. Then backed up, pulled out his pistol and shot the hanger bay door button, jamming the door closed.
Current time..
Alek looked up, he wasn't certain if the boarding party spoke Galactic basic so he waited for them to speak, hoping they didn't expect more from him. He kept his blasters close and kept his cool, focusing on the moment and nothing more. He wasn't a man of many words anyway, except when he drank of course, and most of the time it wasn't words, just gibberish.
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Post by Eliana Shan on Jul 8, 2013 21:32:07 GMT -8
She was a captive aboard the Blastboat, even more so than she had been aboard the Ori'gehaat'ik. Inside, she was seething; it had taken all of her willpower and restraint to keep from lashing out at the man who had struck her. Right now, she was sitting there, repeatedly clenching and unclenching her fists, a small electric charge running from her left hand and causing her to grit her teeth in pain as the intensity increased. Gods, she hated being helpless here like this, trapped with these mongrels and fools.
She hadn't spoken a word since Corr had ignored her, not even when Darian had dared to lay his filthy hand upon her. Nor did she utter a sound when a single tiny spark leaped from her hand, landing lower down on her thumb and singeing the skin there slightly. She unclenched her fist again, closing her eyes to try and control the anger that was threatening to overrun her like a runaway process without termination.
Alena Karso had withstood years and years of hardship. She would not lose herself here.
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Artus Varad
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Affiliation: Loyal follower of the Mand'alor
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Post by Artus Varad on Jul 10, 2013 12:39:19 GMT -8
An M22-T Krayt Gunship, hull painted in dull grey with flares of purple, popped out of Hyperspace at the edge of the Mandalorian blockade. In it's cockpit, Artus Varad was accompanied by his usual co-pilot, the reassuringly dull and to-the-point LE-B1D101 - typically known by the nickname Lebi. That the droid had a nickname wasn't down to Artus, of course - the droid's previous owner, Artus' clan chief, had given it to the droid. Despite the seeming frivolity of a nickname for a droid, Artus had to confess that Lebi was easier to say than Ell-ee-bee-one-oh-one, and far more efficient in combat scenarios, and so allowed the name to stick. Personality, on the other hand, was denied to the droid through the practise of regular memory wipes - Artus wouldn't be having any of that whimsical nonsense from a glorified tool.
His gunship, he knew, transmitted identifier codes for the Mandalorian Empire, and so would hopefully be spared immediately being pounced upon, but he supposed he'd best put in a call to the people in charge, lest they decide that the transponder wasn't enough of a reason not to blow something up.
Mando'ade ara'novor, ner gai'ir Artus, aliit Varad, verburyc verd be te Mand'alor. Ni Vercopa bah to te akaan.
He sat back, and waited for a response, his gunship hanging just outside of the blockade perimeter. It was just his luck to have missed the start of all this - he'd been off on the other side of the Galaxy, providing security to a business man looking to form a trade agreement with the Ssi-ruuvi Imperium. The agreement had been a dreadful failure. The fighting, on the other hand, had been glorious.
However, he'd missed the start of the Mand'alor's most sensational campaign. He wanted to make up for that. In the Yuuzhan Vong war, despite his youth at the time, he had earned much respect and honour. In the second Galactic Civil War, he again fought under Boba Fett's command. Now in this great and glorious campaign, he would join Mand'alor Ashrah and fight, to the death if he had to.
It was all he knew how to do.
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Jul 10, 2013 16:49:49 GMT -8
The Tra'vod crews storyline continues on Yavin Station. here - jedivsith.boards.net/thread/915?page=1&scrollTo=18301Admiral Gathos looked up as the communications officer called out for attention. The Mandalorian veteran had just watched Corr's ship disappear into the cavernous hangar of the space station and now turned his attention to what was going on is watch. As he passed a station on the way to the comm he spotted that the blockade was now at ninety-two percent effectiveness, nearly complete and a testimony to those operating the minelayers. That they had managed to seed an area as big as this one, cunning use of the gas giants gravity field notwithstanding, was a truly herculean effort and one worthy of note and praise. He made a mental note to commend the crews as he reached the comm station and listened to the newcomers broadcast.
With a acquiescing nod to the comm officer he cleared his throat then spoke, addressing the distant pilot identifying himself as Artus of Clan Varad...
Su cuy'gar, ner tat. Kad olarom'ir an verburyc ade...
{Greeting, brother. Kad welcomes all loyal children...}
He paused for a moment as his eyes tracked the blip that represented Artus' Krayt-Class Gunship, deciding on the best course with which to place this eager-sounding newcomer on.
Slanar bah te Jetii tra'yaim bal parir'par ke'gyce. Taly'bac?
{Go to the Jedi Spacestaion and await orders.Understood?}
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Artus Varad
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Affiliation: Loyal follower of the Mand'alor
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Post by Artus Varad on Jul 12, 2013 9:02:13 GMT -8
Simple enough.
Taly'bac. Artus dayn.
Artus sighted the station, a tiny spec from where he was, but, no doubt, far more impressive up close. He turned his head to the side, speaking over his shoulder to his artificial co-pilot.
"Lebi, hiibir mhi at te tra'yaim. Jii."
=LE-B1D101=
:Ru'jor'lekir alor.:
Turning back to front, the Mandalorian focused once more on the rapidly expanding shape of the station, the Mandalorian fleets sweeping past on either side. A sneer, but one of pleasure, with the faintest up-turns of an almost-smile at the corner of his lips, pulled across his face, before he swept himself out of his seat and up the narrow gangway to the back of the cockpit. Squeezing through the small door there, he entered the rear compartment, and, with methodical precision, begun to strap the gaid of his beskar'gam on over the power armour liner and flightsuit he wore. In a hurry, it took only a minute or two, but Artus took his time, strapping on the armour as if dressing in finery for an important function, and once his guantlets were attached and combat gloves on, it left only his buy'ce to go. He looked down on it, for just a moment or two.
There was a faint shudder, followed after a second or two by a gentle jolt, and the internal comm came alive.
=LE-B1D101=
Alor, mhi cuyir ru'rusur sha te Jetii tra'yaim. Tolase bat motir de.
A small, feral smile, again with that hint of a sneer, tugged on the man's lips. He pressed a finger to the comm panel beside him.
"Jate."
With that, he grabbed up the buy'ce, and slipped it on. The egress hatch opened with the depression of another button, and Artus Varad stepped down from his gunship, into the hangar of this Jedi spacestation, awaiting to see who would meet with him.*Yavin Station*
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Duke Australis
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Affiliation: Ashrah Ithalbo and Clan Australis
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Post by Duke Australis on Jul 13, 2013 13:01:43 GMT -8
Not everybody can afford beskar, most of the mandalorians only wore Beskargam in name. This would be equal for warships and fighters. Not everyone could afford to buy a beskar tin can, so some would have to get it in impervium or obsidian or whatever cheaper metals there were, so they could fight alongside their more well situatied brothers.
This was the case with Tra'kad Valkyria.
Tra'kad Valkryia was manned by an Ordinii squad of commandoes lead by Olga Ordinii, the pilot. Olga was a hard woman, as all mandalorians, and also a big fan of bodybuilding, so not many actually dared to get close to her in THAT week of the month. She was often violent, short tempered, and VERY powerfull. Also, she had a healthy apetite in both culinary exquisitness and men. It was inevitable for her and Duke to ever meet, and so they did. Now, while this story may be again a tale of Dukes glories, it is highly tied in on recent events, and the actual mission of the Valkyra.
See, also with Olga was Ulla-Britt Ordinii, her own doughter who was widely seen as one of the most beautifull beskargams ever created... and by that I actually mean that she could fill it up nicely at the parts where beautifull women fill up full bodyarmour. She was also single for a very long time, and while suitors were many, she was of the choosy sort.
The backstory of this is simple. Clan Australis wants good relations with Ordinii, and they happen to have a widowed Olga Ordinii and the ever batchelor Duke Australis. The match was made in heaven, Duke had always had a sense for wierd women, and Olga was right where he wanted her. Wierd, strong, and lovable like a cute Tarantek. Duke quickly got in well with Olga too, and the deal was soon to be struck, but ended horribly when Olga walked in on Duke and Ulla-Britt having............ fun.
Exchange of blaster fire was inevitable and duke had to flee with his pee-wee hanging, shaming most of the Ordinii males who were trying to demale him with blasterbolts. Australis and Ordinii relations became cold after that, but revendge was pledged, and it was time now. Olga now knew where Duke would be, and that is right next to the Mand'alore. She could swat two flies at once, answering The Call, and making sure no other woman will be defiled by the Explosive Chef.
Her Tra'Kad, a thing made mostly of Durasteel and built to work on zero energy, mostly housing large caliber Flak cannons and machinegun turrets, and also, a 12 man supercommando squad.
The Valkyra entered orbit right where the Mandalorian fleets had a day before.
This is Tra'Kad Valkyria from Clan Ordinii, we are here to answer the Call, and also, could someone tell me where I can find Duke Australis? We are... old friends.
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Bralex Ordo
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Post by Bralex Ordo on Jul 13, 2013 15:02:00 GMT -8
It wasn't comfortable having Damus amongst the group down here in the hanger. Alek knew a bit of Mandalorian but he wasn't going to mouth off speaking another language just incase he accidentally spoke something else unintentionally. He didn't like this situation, he hated it. Its fun when your not the one cornered and outnumbered, and if life is being threatened here, Alek would lash out like a vicious lion protecting his pride. His hood remained up above his head and his arms crossed but now he was alone. Standing in the hanger by himself.Moments Ago..
Onasi swore he could feel the anger emitting from Alek, situations like these usually didn't worry him. So it must be something else, there was a moment when Damus and Alek had a stare off. He wondered who would of backed down first until surprisingly Damus had stepped back while looking away, Alek looked at Onasi and motioned towards Damus. He followed the both of them to the hanger bay doors then stopped Onasi. Check in on the repairs, we'll need more time. I'll buy that time for us. He said to his friend. Onasi starred at him, something had changed in his expression, something empty had replaced something to live for. A pirate usually tried to get away from death the best he could, stop at nothing to break free and live longer. It was like Alek had suddenly lost that need, Alek said one more thing. If something happens down here, drop the screen shielding and flood the hanger and make the jump. Even if I'm still in here. Got it? Onasi nodded to his captain. And If we survive this Onasi, your the captain. He smirked. Then backed up, pulled out his pistol and shot the hanger bay door button, jamming the door closed. Current time..
Alek looked up, he wasn't certain if the boarding party spoke Galactic basic so he waited for them to speak, hoping they didn't expect more from him. He kept his blasters close and kept his cool, focusing on the moment and nothing more. He wasn't a man of many words anyway, except when he drank of course, and most of the time it wasn't words, just gibberish.
Halt! Hands up and turn around. A man couldn't shoot what he couldn't see. This man would be attempted to be detained, at least until his threat status was determined. |
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Jul 13, 2013 15:30:24 GMT -8
The bridge of the Ori'gehaat'ir was a hive of activity, most of which was routine and borning and not the kind of thing one would normally include in ones posts. The mine field was nearing completion and final orders were being sent to the mine layers before they departed the system to begin seeding the Hydian Way coreward of Mandalore. When the Republic acted, as the commanders of the Mandalrian assault suspected they would, they wanted them to run into a mass shadow brick wall before reaching the Mandalorian sector. Ships were being allocated patrols, ready to intercept any craft the mines pulled from the void. With such a vast area of space to cover the patrols were sparsely equipped, often just one gunship or Corvette with a few accompanying fighters. The majority of the Mando force was lurking withn the orbit of the massive red giant Yavin Prime, with the exception of the Clan Vhett feet that lurked just passed the stations outer orbit, being careful to keep the massive structure between them and the perilous Ion Cannons of the Praxeum. The battered form of the Victory-Class Star Destroyer *Geko", previously knocked out by said cannons, had been towed back to the relative safety of the fleet, repairs getting underway to try and restore power to its systems.
Among all this activity someone received the call from the incoming Tra'Kad and directed them towards the moon itself. That was where Duke Australis was, along with the Mand'alor. The communique was noted and logged before the comm operator moved to another call, this one from a patrolling Bes'uliik. The call was garbled. Something about an encounter with Jedi fighters in the atmosphere. The transmission kept breaking up until it failed entirely. Probably due to the massive storm gathering, the controller thought. She contacted the rest of the callers squadron and informed them of the situation as well as the last known position.She got a confirmation and a call saying they were en-route to said positions, ten more fighters heading towards the coordinates from the upper atmosphere.
Another situation that sprang up, and has caused this post to be edited due to me missing it, was the approach of an unidentified craft. It had managed to enter the system before the blockade was fully in place, its vector taking it through a brief gap in the patrols. It was noted and logged, one craft of its type not really posing much of a threat, though a flight of starfighters were dispatched to check it out while the same comm officer that had spoken to the pilot of the Tra'Kad addressed the newcomer, asking for details of its intent.
*Bursting forth from the vastness of hyperspace into the midst of the Mandalorian blockade, Khrogal checked his control board to ensure that the auto point defense cannon at his rear was fully powered and his shields were at full power in case those of the warrior race didn't feel like accepting his aid in the glory to come.*
*It had taken two days going at full speed and pushing his ship to the limit to get from Nal Hutta to Yavin. Making dozens of jumps from hyperlane to hyperlane before finally reaching the Hydian Way and he hadn't slept at all in that time. Instead, between jumps he re-read the message from his former contract handler on his discovery of a Mandalorian Holy War and preparing what exactly it was he was going to say to them to allow him to join in on the festivities, and in the end, he decided that he would let them initiate the discussion..*
*As he drew the Dragon's Folly on towards the fleet, he noticed on his scanners that a number of fighters were perusing a distant vessel, but found that it wasn't his concern, instead focusing on his readouts on the Mandalorian battle readiness.*
The flight of Bessies closed fast, ready to destroy the intruder should he not be a welcome addition to their forces here.
Aaaand that was about it. As stated the main part of the fleet was gathered at the outer orbit of Yavin Prime, right at the edge of its mass shadow, though most of it was out trying to maintain a patrol over a vast area of space. Strung out along the edges of the minefield were two or three ship task forces, each close enough to aid the next in line should a force of sufficient size appear to threaten them. The fleet near the gas giant was able to microjump to most points along the interdiction field, using the field itself to pull them out. This was a theoretical plan and one that hadn't been tested yet. The idea was to have reinforcements at most points along the gravity well as soon as possible. Conventional travel would have them there in a pretty short order and the reinforcements from the next two groups to either side should be enough to hold the position but... The Mando Admirals were feeling creative.
With fighter patrols and shuttle flitting around the space of the Yavin system was firmly in the hands of the Mandalorian invaders...
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 14, 2013 15:29:54 GMT -8
Another situation that sprang up and has been edited in due to me missing the post was the approach of an unidentified craft. It had managed to enter the system before the blockade was fully in place, its vector taking it through a brief gap in the patrols. It was noted and logged, one craft of its type not really posing much of a threat, though a flight of starfighters was dispatched to check it out while the same comm officer that had spoken to the pilot of the Tra'Kad addressed the newcomer, asking for details of its intent.
*Bursting forth from the vastness of hyperspace into the midst of the Mandalorian blockade, Khrogal checked his control board to ensure that the auto point defense cannon at his rear was fully powered and his shields were at full power in case those of the warrior race didn't feel like accepting his aid in the glory to come.*
*It had taken two days going at full speed and pushing his ship to the limit to get from Nal Hutta to Yavin. Making dozens of jumps from hyperlane to hyperlane before finally reaching the Hydian Way and he hadn't slept at all in that time. Instead, between jumps he re-read the message from his former contract handler on his discovery of a Mandalorian Holy War and preparing what exactly it was he was going to say to them to allow him to join in on the festivities, and in the end, he decided that he would let them initiate the discussion..*
*As he drew the Dragon's Folly on towards the fleet, he noticed on his scanners that a number of fighters were perusing a distant vessel, but found that it wasn't his concern, instead focusing on his readouts on the Mandalorian battle readiness.*
The flight of Bessies closed fast, ready to destroy the intruder should he not be a welcome addition to their forces here. |
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Duke Australis
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Affiliation: Ashrah Ithalbo and Clan Australis
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Post by Duke Australis on Jul 15, 2013 15:10:08 GMT -8
Tra'kad Valkyria set in the destination to the supposed meetingplace where Duke Australis was, some kind of blueleafed temple, and fired off her thrusters. When it gained enough speed, it shut down completely, letting the mandalorians onboard rely on their lifesupporting gear in their armour. Before the Valkyra would hit athmosphere, it engaged its shields just enough to not burn up, and thus was harder for sensors to catch.
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Jul 17, 2013 13:52:48 GMT -8
The comm officer narrowed her eyes at the statement from Hunter Khrogal of the Dragons Fire, wondering at the speed with which he had got here considering the relative freshness of the campaign. She wasn't sure as to the will of Ashrah regarding non-Mandalorians in this endeavor but felt it wasn't her place to turn this newcomer away. It was also worth knowing how he had known to come here so soon after their initial attack had been launched.
Hunter Khrogal. This is the Ori'gehaat'ik, flagship of the Concordian Fleet. Ashrah and Corr are currently on the moon and station respectively. You are cleared for approach to both and I'll leave it up to you to decide which you'd rather speak with. I would caution you that the atmosphere of the moon around the Jetii temple is only nominally in our control. Their starfighters are still providing ample problems for our landing craft and several engagements are thought to be under way...
She paused as she redirected the Bessies that had been sent on an intercept, altering their orders to an escort tot he Concordian Fleet that was just off the station itself.
The Bes'uliike will escort you to us then you can go from there. Ori'gehaat'ik out
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 17, 2013 21:10:19 GMT -8
*Khrogal gave a double click over the comm channel as confirmation before locking in coordinates for the space station having concluded that meeting with the nearest commander was probably a better option then flying in blind to the surface below and end up as some Jedi's new pair of boots. Shaking the thought from his mind, he set the ship on autopilot and left the cockpit.*
*Punching in the access code to his workshop, Khrogal approached the cage where he kept his elite armor stored. His hand paused over the control panel. Do I deserve to go into battle with such a defense? Or must I prove my worth by challenging my abilities in the eyes of the goddess? Khrogal's eyes narrowed as he contemplated his options. Perhaps he ought to wear it in the presence of the Mandalorians. Would they accept him on their safari if he were unarmored? He had doubts that they would allow him to join at all, but if they did he would find a way down to the planets surface anyways....or perhaps take a holiday to Kashyyyk...*
*Khrogal punched in the code and swung the cage door wide as he grabbed each plate of his armor and began strapping it onto his body. He didn't both with the undershirt and strapped his armor plates over his bare scales. Feeling the cool metal against his flesh sent an exhilarating rush through his body, the need to paint them in blood swarmed his senses and his vision went red for a moment as he was strapping on his bracers. Then he saw the chains still on his wrists and the shame-filled memories of his failure over came him once again. He had not yet earned the right to remove them, so he was forced to make due, strapping the bracers a little height on his forearms and adjusting his chest piece to fit with his collar. He didn't bother with the head set, only bothering to remove the ear piece from it and left the rest hanging from its mount in the cage.*
*Closing and locking the cage once more, Khrogal returned the to bridge just as the space station hanger was filling the viewport.*
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Bralex Ordo
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Post by Bralex Ordo on Aug 8, 2013 7:12:52 GMT -8
Bralex waited in orbit. Awaiting orders. He had been told to wait in orbit and so he shall.
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Aug 8, 2013 11:26:48 GMT -8
The comm pinged on Bralex' console, a message delivered from the Tra'Vod as it disappeared into the cavernous hangar of Yavin Station. Just a line of text, simply stated, requesting that he follow them onto the station itself.
Meanwhile the blockade, now complete, sorted itself out and settled in for the wait, poised and ready to intercept the forces they were sure would leap to the aid of the stricken Jedi planet. The encounter at the edge of Yavins gravity well continued, the boarding action successful and updates being waited upon. With the storm howling in the jungle below, steadily moving across the planets face towards the Praxeum, any more incursions into the atmosphere had been forestalled pending orders from the Mandalorian commanders. For now those on the planet were on their own while armoured warriors sought to gain control of the sprawling orbital complex that was Yavin Station...
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Bralex Ordo
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Post by Bralex Ordo on Aug 8, 2013 11:52:45 GMT -8
Bralex nodded to himself, and nosed the Mar'eyce towad Yavin station.
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Eliel
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Life is hard. Suck it up.
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Post by Eliel on Aug 24, 2013 20:03:20 GMT -8
Random Jedi Freighter
Booted feet propped up on the console, Eli reclined in a daydreaming state, idly watching the blue of hyperspace outside the cockpit. It'd been one hell of a trip. Finding the Rollins' and 02 on Helska IV, fighting the cold with random clothes she could throw on... She couldn't wait to relax in her dorm on Yavin. Maybe tinker with something before Aloua dragged her off to another reading lesson.
An alarm rang on the console, signalling an end to their hyperspace voyage. Odd. It was far too soon. Frowning, Eli pulled her feet off and pushed a few buttons, watching for the jungle moon; her new home.
With an entire fleet clustered around it.
"Oh shit damn fucking hell," she breathed. Her fingers and hands flew over the controls, detached from her mind, and steered the craft right back into hyperspace for another Jedi planet fairly close to Yavin.
Holy hell. Yavin was under siege.
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Jethroe Staton
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Post by Jethroe Staton on Aug 28, 2013 16:32:48 GMT -8
Admiral Jethroe Staton, GALSAF Armada
Yavin 4 synchronous orbit
Day 2 of the Mandalorian invasion 
Ander Tagira, former Jedi Master and leader of the Jedi of Yavin 4, had long lived as a noble and kind-hearted person. He had led the Jedi to success, saved countless lives, and earned the respect of innumerable beings across the galaxy. But over the last seven years, Tagira had been a source of embarrassment and conflict for the Jedi Order. He had led their forces into many foolhardy confrontations, spurned on by the arrogance of his own words and actions. And yet, when Tagira had been expelled from the Jedi Order and forced off of Yavin 4, Staton had followed him when he later came to call.
GALSAF had helped defend the lives of millions of beings in the attempted invasion of Contruum by Lord Nexus, and it was that conflict that made Staton begin to believe Tagira might have truly turned over a new leaf. He had love from a kind-hearted woman, the healer from Yavin 4, Mai Owani and his own adopted son, Calo Foster, a former apprentice of his. He had the support of his organization, more a family than anything else. And yet his decision to lead GALSAF into war against the Jedi had been made without any observable hesitation. Tagira seemed to be out to prove his worth to the Mandalorian Clans that had once been his father's people.
Such a personal venture was unacceptable to utilize as fuel for conflict, and Staton felt ashamed to have agreed to follow him once again. Many of the beings that had died in the initial onslaught of the invasion were former soldiers and personnel of the Yavin 4 Defense Force, a force Staton himself had once led. He lacked an actual casualty roster of the Jedi forces, though he was certain he would have recognized many of its names. With the majority of GALSAF's military strength deployed to the moon's surface, Staton could only look on each report he received with disdain.
Yavin Station had been disabled and later claimed by the Mandalorian forces, though many areas were still met with resistance from remaining Jedi forces. The Temple of the Blueleaf Cluster had been converted into a fallback station for their armies, and even now a great force of GALSAF commandos and Mandalorian Clansmen marched on the well-protected Temple of the Jedi Praxeum. Though his loyalties were split between GALSAF and what was morally right, Staton could not abandon his newer charges simply because he disagreed with his commander over their employment. He had a responsibility to care for the lives of these soldiers, ensure their safety and success, even if it cost him his soul.
Jethroe ran a webbed hand over his face, feeling cold water wash over his skin. He was due to attend the bridge of the Basterd's Hand, GALSAF's flagship, an Imperial-II class Star Destroyer affixed with enough modifications to nearly double its fighting strength. GALSAF had been designed as a quick response humanitarian assistance force, fighting the battles of countless innocent individuals across the galaxy. Tagira had declared their fight against the Force Users was of this same mettle, though Staton had silently disagreed. A war against the Sith would indeed be a noble cause, though discriminating against all Force Users was as foolish as it was ignorant.
Staton had attempted to express these thoughts to Tagira before their fleet had disembarked from Mandalore, several days before. Jethroe heard the conversation return to his mind as if it were happening all over again…"An attack on the Jedi is not what GALSAF was made for, and you know this Tagira!" Staton had decreed."An immoral war to end immorality is exactly what this galaxy needs, Staton." Tagira had replied calmly, standing before Staton's desk aboard the Basterd's Hand. "You know as well as I do that there's hardly a conflict in recorded galactic history that wasn't perpetrated by Force Users," Tagira continued."If you want to boil it down to hard facts, Commander, you need look at the rest of galactic history. The Vong invasion, both Corellian Insurrections, the Unification Wars, the Devouring, Mandalorian wars, I could go on!" At this point, Staton had slammed a webbed fist against the surface of his desk as he stood. "One group cannot be blamed as the source for sentient aggression. You are a fool to decide such things!"At this point, Tagira himself had expressed his own anger. "There are a million different causes of war, and we are doing our job only by eliminating as many of them as we can!" He growled. Staton had shaken his head in disappointment."It doesn't take a Jedi to see right from wrong, Tagira. But it takes a true fool to refute what is obvious. GALSAF is mandated to help, not destroy! These are your own words, don't turn into a hypocrite now, for nothing more than a chance at a hug from a race of people you don't even understand." He had shouted.
It was Tagira's turn to shake his head, "My incongruities with the Mandalorian people are mine to suffer with, not yours. As is my personal business.""Patented Ander Tagira," Staton bit back in disgust. "When it looks like you won't get what you want, you change the rules of the game." Jethroe gritted his teeth, a loud gurgling sound boiling in the back of his throat. "You know what atrocities the Mandalorian leader has planned. This won't be a war of calm collected confinement. This will be a slaughter."Tagira glared back at Jethroe, venom in his voice. "The Mandalorians seek to remove Force Users from the galaxy, to keep them out of their meddling with galactic affairs. Our plan is to round them up and ship them away, cast them out so they can't interfere any longer!"Staton had barked out laughter, sadness building within him. "Then they have taken you for a fool, Tagira. You know Mandalorians. They may treat their own like royalty, but outsiders, especially Force Users get nothing but a blade. They'll use us to round them up, and then they'll put them all to death!"Tagira had chewed on the inside of his cheek as he remained in silent thought before making suddenly for the door. He stopped only long enough to give Staton a final piece of his mind. "Follow your orders, Staton. I'm not asking anything more than that. And I'm only going to ask it of you once."Before Jethroe could respond, Tagira walked out, leaving the Mon Calamari Admiral alone in his office. He sank into his chair, disheartened and angry, knowing he had not only failed himself, but also Ander and the countless victims that were to come of this war."May the Force be with you, Ander Tagira," Staton muttered to himself.Pushing the memory from his mind, Jethroe left the refresher room and pulled his uniform jacket from its post by the door. He fastened the buckles of the jacket around his chest and stomach, trying not to think much about anything besides the task at hand, which was to oversee the repairs of the Flatterer GALSAF's Venator-class Star Destroyer. The vessel had taken a greater amount of damage than her sister-ship, the Basterd's Hand, in the initial battle for Yavin 4's orbital space. Thankfully, only fifty or so personnel had been killed, thought another thirty had been injured in the resulting battle. Their starfighter corps had only lost three vessels, one XJ-9 X-wing and two BTL-S8 K-wing bombers, though all three pilots had successfully ejected and been recovered in the post-battle.
Staton smoothed out his uniform, pondering suddenly if there was any importance in the action. Professionalism ran deep within Staton's personality, though when the organization to which you had committed your life no longer supported such idealism, did such things hold any meaning?
The Mon Calamari Admiral gurgled a quiet sigh, deciding that the upkeep of his image as an Admiral was too important to the morality of his crew to allow himself to sink to such a level. He reminded himself of his duties to his soldiers as he returned to the bridge of the Basterd's Hand, prepared to oversee the work of the day. Whatever happened on the moon's surface, Staton knew it would be as bloody as it was wrong. |
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Dred Vizsla
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Posts: 734
Affiliation: Whomever pays better
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Post by Dred Vizsla on Oct 26, 2013 7:15:46 GMT -8
*Exiting hyperspace, the Dreadnaught SD comes out just outside the blockade and sends a comlink message to whomever is in charge of the Mandalorian Fleet, letting them know that Death Watch Reinforcements have arrived.*
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Onur Salil
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Affiliation: Mandalorian Empire
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Post by Onur Salil on Oct 27, 2013 10:23:41 GMT -8
Bacta, though a powerful ally, seemed to be more along the lines of a clingy friend you wanted to keep away from.
At least, that's how Onur considered his situation after coming out of the red dip. His cropped hair felt greasy, his skin sickeningly slick, and the feeling persisted even after coming out of the shower. Then again, he should have counted himself lucky. Tangling with a Jedi Knight in close quarters was not the quickest way to ensure one's survival. The gash in his durasteel armor that sat on one of the nearby beds was testament to that fact: a centimeter deeper and he'd have had an injury not even the magical juice could fix.
In truth, it was his own hesitation that had lead to him being shipped back to the Greko, a Kedalbe-class part of the blockade, for medical treatment. When that Rodian leaped at him there had been a noticeable pause, a slight twitch that served as a prefix to the drawing of his own blade to clash with the Force-Wielding warrior. No one else had been around to see it, and he was lucky that it was another vode that struck down the Knight in his stead. The flash of brilliant green energy still stung his eyes when the memory came back vividly, and then disappeared as an attendant came to check his vitals, leaving Onur to sit in stone silence with simple replies to assure his combat readiness.
Five years with the clans. Five, long years, and he was still adjusting. Everytime he thought he had this figured out, a handle on what it meant to hold to Resol'nare, something else came along to surprise him.
Fighting Jedi ... That was a new one. Ever since Mand'alor put out the call for this Crusade, Onur of Skirata had wondered just how this would play out. When the order came to move on Yavin IV, the young Nagai both understood why this place was chosen but also questioned the strategy of such a bold opening move. Yes, they had taken the Yavinites by surprise, and yes, so far things seemed to be going in their favor. But what of the other worlds of the Order? What of The Republic?
He stretched, loosening his stiff limbs in an attempt to get his blood pumping again. His feet carried him to his armor, almost instinctively. Ever since the purple durasteel had been given to him as a mark of advancement in the Clan, even Onur had to admit how much it felt like a second skin. Strange, he mused, to feel that way. Put on the iron and helmet, and all of a sudden he was a different person. Pale fingers brushed over the T-Visor of his helm, tracing the visage that had conquered thousands of star systems and struck fear into ten times that number. This was his life now: a fate forged in steel.
" Ver'alor Salil."
The voice shook him from his thoughts, the Nagai's hard eyes turning towards the armored man who addressed him with a slight nod of respect.
" Elek, vod?"
" Captain Revs requests your presence on the Bridge at once."
Onur's hand curled reflexively over the crown of his buy'ce, his gaze unwavering even as his mind considered what this would be about.
" Jate. Ke'rejorhaa'i be'riduur vaii ni ru'slanar."
The other warrior simply inclined his covered head and left to do as instructed, leaving Onur to dress before making for the bridge. Mando'a still felt somewhat peculiar, but he knew that speaking it was important, no matter how much his natural Coruscanti accent seemed to bleed into the words. If there was a mispronunciation, the subordinate did not catch it, or was simply smart enough to not correct him. Proving one's self seemed to carry a large amount of benefits among the verde, Onur mused.
Once fully armored and cleared from the medbay, he set out with no intention of rushing himself to the command deck of the Greko, and hoping that his message to his wife had been relayed.
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Corr Vhett - puts the "Laughter" in "Manslaughter"..... 
