Daluuj spun below them, a small marble in the inky black of space that grew ever larger as they watched through the transparisteel. Zxyl stood up, , giving himself a half second to adjust for the difference in balance and gravity before stepping toward the cockpit. Three knocks from an armored fist, and the door opened. Blackwind’s eyes faced forward, hands holding the yoke casually, as if he’d been born to it. Nodding in his direction to acknowledge him, Zxyl leaned in close so he could hear over the sound of atmospheric entry.
A raised eyebrow, a quick nod, and Blackwind pulled the stick back, flipping a few switches. “Buckle up” His voice sang across the intercom, “It’s going to get a mite windy.” Zxyl stepped back, closing the door to the cockpit and turning around.
The red light flashed three times, and the Mandalorian found his way back, fast hands doing a final check. Quentin nodded, strapping himself in.
Red flashed two times, and Korvis stood, clanking the haft of his spear against the bulkhead, then against his helmet in a rhythmic pattern. Hector, joined in first, stamping his feet and clasping a fist to his breastplate to the rhythm. Zxyl carried it on a half of a heartbeat before Socorra did, the sound reverberating through the shuttle. It was an old way, meant to honor those that fell before, to honor the battle to come, and to steel their nerves for what was to come.
One time. The ramp opened, the scream of wind pouring into the transport through the tiny sliver, the light shocking the senses for a moment. Visors adjusted and pupils constricted as the gateway to the world miles below opened fully.
There was no word, none that would have been heard over the roar of the engines, of the wind. It wasn’t needed anyway.
The light turned green.
During the journey through hyperspace to their planetary objective, Zxyl Bes'uliik had spent some time inspecting the various seals and protective layers of his armor to ensure it was still in re-entry ready condition. It was. After he had finished the checks on his own suit of armor, he did the same for the other Mandalorians who wished to make the jump - if they allowed him to. He’d done several of these jumps before, but there was nothing in the galaxy like jumping from orbit and scorching through the atmosphere of a planet like the Mandalorians of old. The true legends, who had conquered planet after planet during their conquests.
Anticipation was high, endorphins running through his blood. The Regent General had H.A.L. upload the designated coordinates for the landing zone and the targets location per the briefing into his heads up display and all the proprietary information regarding pressures, temperature, speed, and resistances kept in his peripherals. H.A.L. would calculate their trajectory and recommend adjustments as necessary through their open communication links.
Bless artificial intelligence.
Although they had already started making their way through the atmosphere, the jump was still perilous. They’d have to take extra care, ensuring that they didn’t alert their target to the incoming fighters and get the drop - literally - on them.
As light flashed from red to bright green, the Regent General gave another nod to those making the jump. While that unfortunately would not include Quentin, he was confident the Sadowan would meet up with them in short order. Zxyl pushed himself forward, leaping from the open loading ramp and immediately angling himself towards the planet below. His heads up display came to life with several readings, a fine white line appearing in his path as he used the booster on his covert edition heavy jetpack sparingly to guide him to the target.
Zxyl had cursed himself somewhere along the line obviously, his jetpack refusing to do its duty. The Mandalorian dropped like a rock from the sky, picking up immense speed in an instant as he was thrown off the proper trajectory.
He breathed in, and elbowed the jetpack for a little bit of percussive maintenance. It sputtered, and died again, still refusing to produce thrust to keep him in the air.
A momentary flash of panic as his adrenaline pumped into overdrive. He shook his head, yelling at H.A.L. to diagnose the problem.
Found it. Reaching behind him, the Regent ripped open the top of his jetpack, fiddling around inside for a moment. He had reached terminal speed by now, the wind ripping across his armor and body. He found what he was looking for; a rogue wire, in a place it shouldn’t be, making contact where it shouldn’t be.
Solutions raced through the Dathomirian-Mandalorian’s mind. He continued falling.
Kriff this.
He grabbed hold of the wire, and ripped it from the jetpack’s internals. Instantaneously, thrust was restored and the Regent rocketed forth, attempting to get back on the flight path that H.A.L. had set for them. The cover to his jetpack snapped shut, nearly closing on his armored hand.
That was too close.
Thankfully, the Regent knew his gear. Why that wire was there, though? He had no idea. He’d have to tear the whole thing apart later for a full inspection and workup on why this had happened.
Standing on the edge of the ramp Korvis couldn’t help but wonder how it looked when thousands of Mandalorian warriors dropped into planets during their crusades. The four of them would suffice this time, though.
Watching as Zxyl made the first jump Korvis turned around to the three remaining members of the team. Socorra and Hector Von Ricmore would soon follow with their own HALO jump. No doubt the pilots would bring Quentin in as quickly as they could.
Giving one last thump of his fist over his heart Korvis leaned backwards and began his fall with a back flip. Straightening out his body he positioned himself into a headfirst dive to catch up to the Dathomirian ahead of him.
Hector watched his companions leap from the vessel with an amused smile. So many of his comrades were always in a hury. But preparation was the key to victory. The Kiffar opened up the crate he brought. In addition to the blaster rifles sat a set of customized Clone Trooper Blaze armor he dubbed “Nightshroud Power Armor.” He stripped out of his Beskar, leaving his body glove upon his person. He carefully began to armor himself, starting with the boots and slowly moving upwards. He closed the equipment case, leaving the 4 blaster rifles inside, before magnetically attaching it to the lower back of his armor.
“I suppose its time to catch up.” Hector muttered as he threw himself out of the shuttle after his companions.
As they maneuvered to the L.Z, diving through the air, Zxyl kept his damn heterochromatic eyes peeled for any structures, hideouts, whatever would look suspicious enough to conceal their target. Even armor AIs had their limits.
It wouldn’t be far now. It peeked through the clouds at him, the prefabricated structure a stark difference from the sandy soil on which is stood. Three landing platforms, a command center, and a surrounding wall, it was a design he had seen before. A lone shuttle occupied one of the pads, the movement of people scurrying around it like insects from that far away.
Quentin shock his head at his mandalorian companions, he unbuckled his restraints walks over and grabs a paracute from the adjacent wall straps it on as the winds from the hatch tears at his cloak like a ravenous monster. He jumps moving his body into a straight out plumiting to the ground like a bullet. He felt the rush of adrenaline as the wind made his cloak snap repeatedly as if someone was cracking a whip over and over again the sound almost deafening. He watched as he flew past the last companion who jumped moments before him, before he closed his eyes and reached out with the force to feel the world below and see when the very last moment possible to pull the rip cord.
Just because Socorra had the suit for it did not mean she wanted to orbital jump!
Of course she had jumped a few times and dropshipped, mostly in Soulfire, but never this high up. Something about not allowing the rookie to pancake. She was slapped into intel missions so fast she never had a chance to. …A fine Mando she had made.
“Kark.” Socks was stalling.
“KARK! I hate heights.” Adrenaline was pumping so hard that comment might not have been muted.
She huffed, fidgeted even in the insane wind. You’re getting old. Stop it.
Korvis was well gone like a pro, and Socorra was left in the… wind. She couldn’t just safely stay on the shuttle and leave the Consul. It went against all the old values, those that still remained.
She huffed again and just blindly jumped, not gracefully, not a chance. The osik she did for tradition.
It was a tactic used by Mandalorians since they invented jetpacks generations ago. Enhanced mobility, speed, rapid deployment without a ship to annouonce their arrival….and people all too rarely looked up.
Except at an airbase.
It didn’t take long for a soldier to spot one of them, rapidly leveling a scope at them to see their beskar. It took even less time for the swear words to leave their mouth in a bellow, alerting the others. Their HK droids reacted slower than the soldiers did, their processors turning the chaos of their swearing into the alarm that it was. As weapons turned skyward and comms chirped between them, they recognized the danger.
Against Mandalorians? They were a target rich envirnment.
Quentin drew on his Krath heritage used the force to make his parachute look like a drifting cloud and called on the force to conceal himself from view, when near the ground he cut the cords of his chute letting it fly away in the wind like the cloud it was disguised as, leaning close to a wall he took his lightsaber in hand knowing full well battle was soon at hand.
Quentin silently moved over to a near by unit making a quick overhead strike to about 7 O'clock trying to remove the Hk-D arm holding his weapon, as Quentin’s lightsaber slashes down the eerie green blade sprung to life as he made his strike, the Hk-D was taken back from suprise, and barely dodged the strike saving his arm but the tip of Quentin’s blade made a small slash down his chest.
Blaster bolts flew threw the air towards the approaching Mandalorians. Hector Von Ricmore glared towards the flashes of red growing closer to his position. THe soldiers were adjusting their aim. His gaze was drawn to an HK assassin droid with a blaster sniper rifle aimed right at him. The Kiffar cut the power to his jetpack. He dropped like a stone, narrowly avoiding the blaster shot that wizzed overhead. Hector reactivated his jetpack, barreling towards the troops as twin crimson beams erupted from his gauntlet lightsabers.
Zxyl bobbed and weaved through the air with the rest of the Mandourage as crimson bolts of blaster fire started heading their way. One, unfortunately, he was not able to avoid. The HK-series Assassin Droid firing on them had managed to get off what the Regent dubbed a lucky shot, the scorching energy slamming directly into his breastplate. The force of the blast caused the Dathomirian-Mandalorian to bob upwards ever so slightly, taking the wind out of him.
After a quick moment to catch his breath and regain composure, the Regent followed suit with diving the rest of the way down towards the facility. He was locked onto a singular target; the HK-series Assassin Droid that had managed to land a blow. Clearly the better better shot, maybe because of poor organic training or combat protocols that were just better, the Dathomirian-Mandalorian aimed his flight path directly for the droid.
In one smooth motion as he approached Zxyl brought his right arm back, the hidden lightsaber emitter in the vambrace on that forearm freeing itself. A widened, yet short black core lightsaber blade with a dull grey glow sprung forth a moment later, just in time for the Regent to bring his torso up and drop onto the same surface of the droid.
In one fell swoop, the Iron Beast of Mandalore brought his saber forward, slashing the droid upwards on a near-perfect fourty five degree angle from the bottom of its torso to the shoulder joint - separating the now derelict droid into two separate pieces. Turning his head momentarily, Bes'uliik checked to see the status of the other team members and their locations.
As “Sniper-C” turned his attention and opened fire on Zxyl, his attention snapped back to the battlefield. He brought his elder lightsaber vambrace to the side, bringing it back in two horizontal sweeping motions to bat the two scorching crimson bolts away from himself.
Hilariously, and unintentionally, the two bolts were deflected directly in the direction of the soldier that was firing on Korvis.
Hector rapidly neared the landing platform. The sniper who fired on him previously lined up another shot; but this time he was ready. The blaster bolt impacted his left lightsaber and was flung back at the droid with lethal intent. The machine wisely dove out of the way, sliding on the ground and avoiding the bolt.
The Black Armored figure landed with a *Thump!
Hector bolted towards the duo of soldiers who fired shot after shot in a panicked manner. Twin crimson blades batted the bolts aside and cut through the guards chestplates like butter, causing them to collapse to the ground; like puppets with their strings cut. The Force User turned to survey the battlefield, the team was not out of this yet.
The glare of light reflecting off glass was a telltale sign that something was amiss. Hector menacingly turned towards the sight. Another sniper eager to bring him down. Yellow eyes glowed purple with malicious intent. The sniper began to sweat and tremble as he was barraged with images of otherworldly horrors, star devouring creatures.
He was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to die.
With a yelp the sniper shot at one of the creatures, causing it to dissipate. But the creatures continued to inch ever closer to him.
“No no no no no!” He fearfully exclaimed as he faced his nightmares made real.
The violence erupted swiftly, The soldiers trying to make sense of foes that wore the armor of vaunted mandalorians, yet bore lightblades. The reflection of their own blasts against them told the tale, the worst of all possible scenarios. The captain knew what they were.
The Brotherhood.
“They shouldn’t be here! How did they find us?” The captain swore at the HK as though it would do more than look at him before refocusing on the enemy. He shoved the droid out of the way with an annoyed grunt. The way to the ground had too many of them down there, one of them not even pretending to be anything than what he was. The bold old man wore robes and swung a full length laser sword. No, that path was sure death. Hell, the captain was all but certain he wasn’t making it out alive. It was too late for that. The best he could do…
His eyes settled on the comm array.
He leaped over the railing, onto the power converters, making his way across the outer rim of the prefabricated airbase, rifle slung on his back. He had to make it. They had to know. Daluuj was compromised.
Every plan goes to hell as soon the fighting starts. Technically this one went a bit off when Korvis underestimated his speed and landed in the middle of the base. It was hard for the soldiers to miss his presence and instinct kicked in as he drew his Beskar spear. A nearby soldier was drawing a bead on him. Two blaster bolts came in from somewhere and caused him to hesitate on firing the blaster rifle in his hands.
This was all the time Korvis needed as he closed the few meters distance. He slashed out with his spear but it was met with the blaster rifle in a last ditch effort. Korvis spun the opposite end of the spear up between the man’s legs impacting his groin and then swept it to the side hooking his leg.
The soldier suddenly found himself on one leg falling backwards. He impacted the ground with a hard thud and attempted to roll away from the Deathstroke Korvis was being down in a two handed stab. The Spear of Nidas found its target slicing through the man’s torso just below the ribcage. The roll had succeeded in causing the blade to miss his vital organs but the cut went through his liver and left his side split open pouring blood.
Despite disliking the jump, she was really liking the wings. I am a leaf on the wind.
Socorra didn’t finish the thought. Korvis dropped into the middle of the base and chaos ensued. Quentin was about to be swarmed.
So much for stealth approach.
She maneuvered through the air into range of the aforementioned swarm, targeting half a dozen of them, and let her rocket babies loose.
A dozen screaming rockets flew from her arm, a seething cloud of whistling birds seeking out the gaps in their armor. The soldiers tried to maneuver away, tried to contort their bodies to avoid them, but they hit from too many angles at once. miniature punctures and explosions rocking them like tangled marionnettes. Alltold, six more bodies hit the floor as the launcher retracted back into her vambrace. It was a good start.
Quentin moves swiftly behind the soldier near Korvis, reaching out with the force he drags the unsuspecting soldier back into the eerie green blade of his saber plunging it through him with a quick slice up the solder falls in almost two pieces to the ground, with a spin of the saber he returns to a defensive stance prepared to deflect any blaster bolts.
With the HK-series Assassin Droid he had just sliced and diced done for and laying on the ground in two separate pieces, the Regent turned his attention to the still very-much alive solider behind him. Deactivating his hidden lightsaber vambrace, the Dathomirian-Mandalorian reached behind to his back and pulled from it Nau'ur, his beskar-forged gravity hammer. Bes'uliik decided to bum-rush the guy, closing the small gap between them and swinging his personally-forged weapon - like all his other weapons, ironically - twice in the man’s direction. Although the Mandalorian Armorer had used the gravity hammer on a near daily basis, something was amiss, and he was very clearly off his game today. The target sidestepped both swipes of his hammer, laughing at him a little… which just angered the Regent of the Brotherhood more.
Hector turned his attention away from the soldier he had terrified and gazed around the battlefield. The closest target to his position was the Sniper that had tried to slay him. The Kiffar activated his Jetpack, launching himself towards the Assassin. The Soldier had regained its footing and opened fire. Its precise shots would have directly impacted Hector’s helmet, had he not deflected the blasts harmlessly into the floor. A sweep of a crimson blade broke the soldiers weapon weapon, the follow up cutting the being in half.
“It’s best not to take any chances. Between the Children of Mortis and that debacle on Dathomir I’d rather not risk the possibilities of resurrection. Everyone seems to be a necromancer this days.” Hector muttered to himself.
As a precaution, he severed the head of the trooper from its body and then brought his saber down again to obliterate the head entirely. There would be no risk of this enemy being brought back to fight again.
The battlefield was turning in the favor of the team assembled by Muz. Socorra had taken out a half dozen targets on her own. As Korvis watched Quentin impale another enemy on his dark green lightsaber blade a blaster bolt hit Korvis right pauldron. Thankfully the Beskar did it’s job and aside from the force of the impact he took no serious damage.
Spinning around in one hundred and eighty degrees to see where the bolt had come from it inadvertently put Korvis face to face with an HK unit that had jumped over the railing and was trying to reach Korvis, a menacing Vibrosword in its hand.
Reacting on instinct more than anything else Korvis brought his Spear up to meet the Vibrosword in a clang of metal. Korvis moved to his left, not really trying to get behind the HK unit but to place it between him and the direction of the unknown enemy shooting at him. Several more clashes of the weapons could be heard as Korvis went on the offensive. They were more testing the limits of the HK units defenses than trying to overpower it. As korvis got the timing down of the droid he gained more of an advantage. The processor of the HK unit was fast but not as fast as Korvis wielded the Spear of Nidas.
A swift one handed thrust by Korvis targeted at the droids right shoulder severed it in two. The Arm fell to the ground still holding the sword. Korvis followed that up with a quick spin of the spear in a low slash that damaged the left leg of the droid causing it to topple onto the ground. Korvis kicked the arm with the sword still in it away.
“Quentin, you care to finish it off.” Korvis asked as he turned toward the direction of the blaster shot again.
The blasts came in hot as her launcher cooled. Socorra dipped herself to one side, juking away from the blasts as they screamed at her. Of course they would open fire on her. One, she was in the air above them, and two, she had just unleashed hell. Another blast ricocheted off her beskar as she sneered, driving herself away from the shots.
She banked, her path curving around the satellite dish, bracing herself for a landing. Something was wrong, her feet finding yet another soldier instead of the ground. She menaced him with her weapon as he rolled to try to get back to the console, hand reaching for his own sidearm. Dropping her knee as she landed, she knocked the wind out of him, a raspy breath erupting through the helmet’s speakers. A quick hand snatched away his sidearm as she loomed over him, pale armor catching the midday sun.
Quentin quickly darts up the ramp after soldier heading for the ship getting in range he unleashes two blast of force lighting the blue tendrils of energy crackle and hiss and the solder is hit heavily, when Quentin stops his barrage the solder lays burnt smoking dead on the ground. Quentin turns to face other soldier across from him raises his saber to point at him and cracks a evil menacing grin.
Hector fell upon the remaining sniper with a vengeance. Arm blades made short work of the soldiers armor as his life was snuffed out like a candle. With the battles coming to a close it was time to regroup. He activated his jetpack and glided over to Korvis position.
“Shall we see what surprises await us?”
The captain’s hand snaked out as she battered away his weapon, reaching for the final command on the console, one last button standing between his death meaning something or not. Her helmet tilted, almost mockingly as he felt her blade slide between the bones of his wrist.
If he had any breath left in his lungs, he would have howled.
She flipped the blade to her other hand, flipping it midair, the mandalorian iron sharp enough to sever thoughts from mind. The blade sang through the air as she brought it down, the fabric at his throat no resistance as she continued the motion to stand up. He knew he should have paid for the gorget, but he always hated how it felt. Turning to look at the console, she paused for a moment, turning her head for just a moment to look at him as he gargled before pressing the cancellation icon.
The edges of his vision lost color first, faster than he would have thought. The desaturation meant nothing with the stark imperial steel of the prefab base and the Mandalorian’s lunar white armor, as depressing as that was. But then the flickering blue of the command console turned pale, then grey, the HUD in his helmet all but vanished. She would have seen the frequency, the direction he was sending the message. He heard her move away, down toward the others, the sounds of blaster fire far less frequent now.
He supposed that it was some kind of peace.