Log:Mandalore: Sleeping Giants

Warlord Rudinark's forces strike at Mand'alore's

OOC Date: March 20, 2023
Location: Mandalore
Participants: Teela Kloo, Zena Tan, Amaia Dara, Orin, Sumi Kora, Colo Nell, Terek Rosol, Valeska Kora, Verra and Hadrix Kora as GM

Smoke and craters dot the dusty plains leading to Beskar Mountain, Mand'alor Djarin's seat of control, with flames burning in multiple places along a three miles of battle line forced back by the aggressive pushes of Warlord Rudinark's warrior clans. Spots where defenders held are marked by charred ground, strewn bodies, gun emplacements blown to slag and repulsor powered gun-trucks blown apart or cast over on their sides.

Gold, green and crimson blasterfire fills the air, with the whistle of artillery preceding cataclysmic blooms of sand and bodyparts while radio chatter fills the waves.

<<"They've been getting pushed back all day, unsure if Rudinark is making a legitimate play for the mountain or not. We're reinforcing at the hardest hit points, help shore up and blunt the advance. If we can slow progress they may back off and Djarin's troops get time to recover.">> Hadrix's voice comes on comms, where he is presently an unquantifiable thing in all of this mayhem. <<"The Basilisk has been seen a few times, hit and run strikes. Be watchful.">>

Contrails of smoke mark the firing of crude rocket barrages, streaking from the foe's side and headed towards the main defense line where surplus walkers and tanks are starting to arrive, to provide armored cavalry support in all of this mayhem. An AT-MP flying Bazza clan marks bracing itself before its missile pods begin launching in a calliope fire pattern to respond.

Teela has a speeder from the start, oh yes she does.

With most of the forces supporting Mand'alor Djarin from the embattlement, trading fire with Rudinark's horde, Teela has positioned herself as a flanking element. Mounted on her speeder bike, painted to resemble the sands, and wearing her armor of the same color, she mounts her flamer on a bracket to the side of the throttle.

<<"Sandviper in position on your word.">>

Oh yes, absolutely. Someone is getting set the frak on fire.

Clicking over to her Clan channel, <"Zena, take up a position to provide cover fire for anyone advancing. If you get too much heat, call it out. Head on a swivel. Jate tuur at ash'amur!">

Once again backing up the leader of Clan Kloo is Zena. A marked departure from her, recently, more common state of (un)dress, she's fully armored and parked atop a now derelict walker. She's prone with her rifle set up, bipod bracing the barrel as she goes through final checks. Power cell? Good. Viewfinder? Good. She's all set to watch Teela's, and everyone else's, back and pick off annoying gnats from afar.

It's a good day to fight some warlord goons.

<Roger, roger boss lady!> Zena returns exuberantly over comms. Even in the thick weight of impending combat, she seems cheerful as ever.

If one Mai had been able to bring a ship. She was great with ships. And Artillery. But she had none of that either. So, she simply stood with the troops, her loadout the same as always. A rifle and whatever vambraces she had chosen to use for the day. They would have to do. Unless she could manage to wrangle herself a basilisk droid. She already had a hat and everything, just waiting.

It's moments like these where Orin should have brought a speeder or a ship. Instead, he's taken something of a low approach, cocking his rifle and making sure it's primed as he moves low to the ground. He stands wit hthe troops, vambraces tightened to his arms and head on a swivel. He was ready for battle as the forces of the Mand'alore battle against the horde. He was ready for the fight, he's been away from this for too long.

Away from the Creed, away from those who he has called his fellows.

Now he must earn the armor he wears.

It's a beautiful day for a battle.

Sumi's comm is active, the sound of war the back drop before she speaks. <<"I will hold the line.">> She says calmly, joining the Mando'ade at the heat of it all. When she activates her weapon, a bright violet blade extends forth from the electrum hilt, marking her location for friendlies and foes to see. She brings her wrist shield to life too, and trudges forward to join the line fighting Mandalorians in the grit and guts of close quarters combat.

<<"This is the way.">>

<<"Commander, this is Tal Ulik. I have Rotworm on standby with anti-vehicle and personnel bombs. All callsigns, if you require a target to be taken out from the air, mark it and call for Rotworm. I am a problem solver,">> Sana says, <<"I make your problems go away.">>

Armed and armored come easy to Colo these days, but out and out fighting will never be trivial to him. Hence why he's in one of the few spots that's ever suited him on these wild and wooly fields: sheltered in a crater hole. Mud, dust and dirt have long since been spread about his otherwise-shiny and immaculately kept armor and he'll have to take a proper sonic brush to it later to get the grime out, but the use is plain for all to see--or not see, as it were. With a viewfinder cocked up over the lip of the shellhole, he's not going to be spotted trivially. His role now is playing calculator with rangefinder and other tools to call in air and artillery as close he can in support of the Kora and their allies.

The blaster planted in the dirt nearby is just the backup.

The dark clad Cathar had brought several of his weapons with him this time, as he figures anything can go down in a massive skirmish like this. He's on the ground proper, having taken time to prepare himself, <"We'll hold the line."> He replies over comms, though he finds himself wondering where they even manage to keep finding the manpower to launch an offensive like this.

Valeska is near the crater hole Colo has taken cover in but not quite /in/ it. Her armor, deeper crimson and not at all immaculate, offers her the ability to stay on her belly and watch the goings-on; waiting for their orders. <<"You know,">> she says towards Colo with mirth in her voice on that closed communication frequency, <<"I keep tellin' ya that orange makes you a brighter target, yeah? Ever since I started wearing the orange half-cape, I swear I get shot more often. That's just statistics.">> Valeska's version of statistics.

<<"Copy... In position...">>

Still no sign of Hadrix himself, but the battle continues in earnest, sand and flames spewing into the air, a chevron formation of trucks headed for the center of the line - mounted cannons firing continuous streams of energy that rip across impromptu cover points and barricades erected by the defenders.

Further down the line, members of clan Haran'kemire join the fight - shields crafted of durasteel mounted to their arms and short carbines clutched to be fed into gunwail grooves, a commander among them calling out, <"SHIELD WALL!"> before voices roar in confirmation and the rattle of metal plates locking together forms a chorus.

The Warlord's forces proceed, hop-frogging their approach, using down speeders and impact craters for cover, calling out for support and being answered with the roar of ordinance and the throating -WHUMP- of artillery fire.

The Speeder barks forward and leaves a rising shroud of sand in her wake. Pivoting the rear of the bike in a fan, she's weaving through the desert with her hand ready on the ignition switch of her flamethrower. Into the sea of combatants! The whine of the engines shifting down into a lower gear creates a fog screen, whipping the tail end around. The nossle unhooks from the side bracket and aims down as she WOOP WOOP WOOPs amidst the enemy, sending out a gout of fire across the tops of their head.

Like very intelligent people who know fire will hurt you, they take up defensive positions to keep from seeing if they're the rare exception to the universal laws of physics. So while the success isn't measured in cooked enemy forces...

She's counting it as a marginal success.

Zena feels great about this. Her boss is out there in her natural habitat. Which is to say on a Speeder trying to ruin everyone's day. She's out here in her favorite spot, behind the lines and taking potshots at moving targets.

Alright, she'd rather they not move.

She focuses in on one of the warriors manning the guns on the truck and takes aim. She slows her breath, freezes and squeezes the trigger.

The speeder truck hits a divot, and the crimson blaster bolt zings overhead harmlessly. She swears violently under her breath, and cycles the rifle to try again.

Mai did not have much in the way of cover, but she used what she could find. Oh, for a nice bulkhead to hide behind. She was going to need to talk to her management about this. Still, the Rattataki made no complaint. She simply did the job she had been brought here to do. There was no flash, or blaze of light, only the hard recoil into her shoulder and the hole through the vital parts of one of the shock troopers. Slugs were nothing if not efficient.

"This is the way."

Orin chimes when Sumi speaks it. He peeks out of cover, setting his rifle atop his position and firing towards the enemy as red beams light blast away from his Galaar rifle. He manages to injure one of those soldiers, sneering as hs second shot misses wide. He keeps his eyes on that target, a devilish grin appearing on his face under that helmet. 

"Come on...just lean..."

Sumi is at the front where the shields have locked in place. Mandalorians are nearly shoulder to shoulder, heavy weighted metal shields planted down firmly. Commands from the commander are heard and repeated by various Ruus'alors along the way. When Sumi arrived at her spot, two warriors made space for her.

Loud impacts are heard, concussing the shields and denting them in. A drum rhythm of voices chant along the line, going 'Oya..Oya..Oya'. When the Commanders yell forward, the shield comes up, shoving forward two steps, and attackers step between the gaps. Sumi is one of those.

She stabs outward missing, her foe twisting away from the humming violet of her weapon. She drove it side ways and caught him across the belly, just beneath his armored plating. He died, his body hitting the ground twice, in two separated pieces. Another warrior charged through the gap, and Sumi cut through their neck in a single slice. Head was removed, and the body planted into the dirt, leaving behind the ashen embers that fell like snow flakes; these were produced when the lightsaber passed through their throat.

The private channel clacks open and Colo instinctively listens for coordinates. What he gets, instead, is a voice that's far more soothing than the math being spat his way moments prior. <<"I know, I know. Didn't you see the nice camo job I did? Just me and a private getaway in this shell-crater. You might consider it next time. Less walkin',">> He jaws back at Valeska with an unmistakable smirk below his helmet's surface.

He ceases his rationalization when the coordinates of his tools start to bleat at him. Changing frequencies is easy from there. He peeps back up over the shell-hole's lip and aims the rangefinder again, towards the shieldwall and just a little past what looks to be his clan leader's unmistakable violet. <<"Maker bless the color purple...">> He mutters before feeding the info back to the cannon-cockers.

Normally, Valeska is one to race forward right into the thick of things. Get nice and personal. It's a tactics she's been taught by her clanmates since her early inception into Mandalorian life. And when it comes to baddies on vehicles, her go-to is to fly overhead like some insane gnat and drop grenades like it's the Star Wars equivilent of Mardi Gras. Surely the good ol' Cajun planet of Dantooine has something similar. It does now.

But today is not the day for grendes. Well. Maybe if they get closer to breaking the line. <<"Walkin'? Is that a joke, Colo? You don't walk on Mandalore, yeah?">> Valeska rises up to a kneeling position as orders roll down the pipeling, bringing her sights onto the first hapless target and helps minimize the foe-count by just one more baddie. <<"Purple?">>

Finally, a feminine voice clicks over the Clan Kloo comms, and Verra calls out over it.

<<Inbound. Where do you want me?>>

The Doomseeker clad scout moves along, hunkered low, her rifle in her arms. The newest member of the Clan was handling somer duties for the Clan, but is here as she said she would be! <<What's the sitch? Who am I shooting?">>, the former farm girl calls out.

As the next group of trucks start coming in, Terek gets up to his feet, finding himself a good firing position, as he shoulders the rocket launcher, leaning in to take aim as he looks at the closest truck. He has to be careful, as there's a lot of friendly vehicles out there as well. He moves from the closest vehicles, locking onto one further behind.

He quickly checks his backblast to ensure it's clear, before he fires, the missile streaking out of the tube and slamming into the front of the speeder truck, the explosion shattering the vehicle's repulsor lift, the explosion scattering the occupants in several different directions.

<<"Mythosaur, on sight.">> the voice on comms is young and maybe a bit too smug.

<<"What?">> the question from Al'Verde Kora is borderline a bark.

The shield wall Mandalorians are forced to brace and duck behind their bulwark when auto-blaster fire from one of the gun-speeders opens fire. Metal heating to cherry red but holding under the onslaught while their field commander shouts above the din, calling to hold and to prepare to return fire.

<<"Ori'Colo, I have your fire-mission coordinates. Inbound.">>

<<"No! I said NO!"> Hadrix's call of frustration emphasized by a durasteel bolt sheathed in viridian fire slamming into the chest of one of the Warlord's field commanders, sending their upper body spinning into the air and their legs tumbling to the ground. The big man having been bodily lifted from his kneeling position and thrown backwards to the sand. <"Kriff...">

The truck dismantled, in spectacular fashion, by Terek's shot is spinning and rolling across the sands and a number of bikes that had been running escort are suddenly exposed, heading towards Teela, hooting and shouting, taking potshots with hand weapons all the while.

An old Firespray appears over the horizon, modified considerably and screaming over the sands - quintet cannons mounted on the pointed 'chin' cycling with a rapid -[ANSI(hr,PENKT! PENKT! PENKT! PENKT! PENKT! PENKT! PENKT!)- that churns up sand and sends bodies flying.

<<"KAAAARRR!">>

The big man's bellow joined by a wordless roar from behind a rise of sand, a fresh line of the Warlord's warriors crossing and charging, weapons blazing.

The Biker Wars have begun!

With the sudden appearance of enemy speeders, Teela does what Teela's do and breaks out from the pack of soldiers. Her bike kicks around and heads straight towards the enemy forces, pushing power into the thrusters as she draws up behind them. There's some paint being exchanged, sparks flying off the side of her own speeder when one jerks into her and nearly knocks her off course... but her foot pedals back, then kicks forward once she's regained control.

Scraping up along side her NEMESIS.

THE VILE beast.

Who dares kick at her fuselage and pushes her away. It is for this reason, and not at all because she has no skill at all with blaster rifles, that the flame turns sand into glass, but not enemy into charred remains.

"WREK THIS.." The nosel is hooked on her back, hand dropping to her blaster pistol on her hip. Revenge shall be sweet. Revenge shall be swift. Revenge shall be later...

Luckily, Zena can't see what kind of trouble Teela is having out there. Otherwise she'd be compelled to comfort her later and, while fun, might be insulting and get her stabbed. ... Which might -also- be fun, but a digression.

She takes aim at the same guy she was shooting at before and repeats the sniper checklist. Slowing her breathing, focusing on the target and pulling the trigger.

This time, she pegs him in the chest with the blaster bolt, dropping him from his perch. He's still moving.

<<"Damn. Got one, but he didn't die. Jerk.">>

Mai had just brought the rifle back into firing position, when blaster fire aimed in her direction hit her armor plate, setting the skin beneath the bicep cover of her right arm, well, not on literal fire, but it certainly felt like it. It knocked her aim off, and even after she took a moment to try to slap the pain away, it did not much help her aim on the second shot, as the slug missed the crew she was aiming at by a corellian mile.

As it happens, Orin can't hit anything worth his salt.

Two blaster bolts are fired from his rifle and both of them miss, the second narrowly missing his mark. "Hnnh." He growls and he starts moving forward closer to the front lines, hustling with every step! He's sprinting, even as fire is returned at him, he manages to avoid the literal hell of bolts between these two great forces, and quickly, he's repositioned closer to the front lines. "Stand strong!" He calls out.

He keeps firing. Surely, his luck must be better now that he's at closer range. <<Don't get discouraged.>> He remarks to Zena.

The shield wall takes one hell of a beating, and several of the warriors near Sumi are killed by a salvo that came from one of the vehicles. Other Mandalorians move forward to fill the gap. When the line shifts forward, and the call for attackers goes out, Sumi thrusts her weapon forward through the dirt haze and chaos, getting a glimpse of the other side of the line where only the contrails of blaster fire trades back and forth.

Her violet lightsaber sticks out like a beacon as she steps beyond the wall, hacking with it and slashing. Shamefully, none fall due to her efforts this push, and she arrives back behind the comfort of the shield for the time being, frowning. <"HOLD THE LINE, GOD DAMN IT!"> She yells out in solidarity. Mandos around her scream, "OYA!"

<<"We both know -you- don't walk. More like a strut. A bit of a sway. A li'l--">>

<<"Ori'Colo, you have the wrong frequency. Your fire-mission is inbound, repeat, inbound.">>

<<"...thanks, Control.">> Colo clicks frequencies before he dares say another word while, under the helm, his cheeks flame hotter than the blaster barrels over the ridge. <<"So, as I was sayin', Val...">> He begins, and repeats his earlier, saucy verbiage to the intended recipient before the roar of blasters and quin-cannons drives him to focus on something other than his oathbound's shebs. It helps that the enemy obliges him with a stray blaster barrage that sails over his head, illuminating the filthy hole he's gladly made his. That little check is enough to make him click his comms on again to warn Valeska. <<"Uj'alayi, do me a favor and stay clear of their speeders for a minute, m'kay?">>

As soon as the missile has made contact with its target, Terek hefts the weapon back down and drops it to his side, marking the location on his HUD so he remembers to come back and grab it. His W-35 is grabbed from the holster on his thigh as he spots one of the shock troopers out of the corner of his eye.

Twisting himself to the side, he fires the golden bolt from the blaster at the approaching trooper, smacking a plate with the bolt and knocking him away as Terek adjusts his position for the fight.

The volley comes back and it is heavy fire, forcing Valeska to duck behind some jagged-ass boulder she is near; pressing her back up against it as bolts pelt rock and fly overhead. <<"This could take a while,">> she opines. The screech of a Firespray overhead pulls her attention upwards, followed by a father's angry yell that makes Aunt Val well up with pride. Because it's not one of /her/ kids doing it. <<"Ah, good idea, kid!">>

The spray of sand and carnage left behind by the aerial barrage provides a smokescreen of sorts for Val to jump up onto the boulder than leap into the air, activating her jetpack and taking to the skies. <<"Avoid the speeders, got it. Don't rekking shoot me, Kar!">>

Streaking towards the oncoming DEATH, Valeska fights through the near-blinding sand and explosions to huck an ion grenade at the impending force. Bright cracks of electricity light up from the inside of the chaos, yet the vehicles swerve at the last second. <<"Son of a--">> followed by many angry words in Bothanese.

Verra hunkers down onto the rim of a blast crater. She grabs for her Firelance before discovering she's an idiot, and her satchel is empty of the proper powercells. With a grunt she unslings her Blastech carbine, instead, and she takes a hasty aim at the shock troops. Put off kilter by the mess-up, her blaster bolt flies wide.

"FRACK!"

<<"Shield-wall! PUSH!">> the shields are raised, two steps taken, and come down - blasters and slug-repeaters nestled in gunwails firing again in a solid line of heavy fire. One of their number dropping where he stands with the top of their helmet blown off and the edges glowing from the impact.

The assault that had seemed blunted renews itself with another push, trucks and bikes howling for the front line, running past ion explosions and weaving around when another massive bolt vaporizes one of their gunners. Cannons fire in sweeps towards airborne mandalorians or chasing after the Y-Wing that rumbles past, cannons chewing up sand and sending more of the Warlord's forces to ground.

Hadrix is sliding through the sand, shoved along by his rifle, cursing and trying to stop so that he can get to his feet. Watching the shift in the battlefield while autoblaster shots kick melted sand up all around him,

<<"Better make some progress or the line is going to crumble again.">> growling over comms.

It's true. Yes there has been success in dealing with some of the enemy, but they're massing and threatening to break through again.

The Biker Wars are not really going as intended.

<<"I'm working on the flank, but this bike is not loving the weather.">> This is usually where Teela's excel. All tha power. All that rampant death and chaos. Tonight... not so much. For starters, her speeder is acting like it caught a cold. No matter how hard she turns the throttle, this thing is not slated for sand. Which is a laughable joke since she took it from the dang desert! <"Come on..."> Yeee-grr-grr yeeeeeeee-grr-grrr... SPPLP...

The engines flash, flare, then dies.. scraping across the sand. Then reignite when she punches it because you do not waste a successful unarmed attack.

There's just nothing she can do that's going to catch her up to those speeder bikes. Except yank her doom pistol and fire off some shots into their back. Red Hot Dead lancing across the sands hit the drive in his back, the second sizzles the air as her bike fish-tails.

<"Yeah, you better run.">

Zenis is attempting to help withthe Biker Wars. She cycles her rifle, re-settling her position, stretched out against hot metal in the hot sub. Fire and explosions ring around her, plaster fire zipping in towards her, but being prone is at least helpful against it. For now, anyway.

She takes aim after briefly checking in on Teela through her viewfinder. Relieved that the boss is still doing okay, she resets her aim in an attempt to help out. Squeezing the trigger, a blaster bolt lances out, only for the Speeder to shift slightly, letting it wing off the hull. She swears again, cycling the weapon.

Now Mai was just getting annoyed. Partly at herself, but mostly at the incoming lines of charging enemy mandalorians. Now, Amaia Dara was a mandalorian that believed in solidarity, but today was clearly not the day. Keeping to the knee she had hunkered down on to fire her rifle, Mai dropped the rifle down so that she could arch forward, hearing the while of her jetpack as it cycled into rocket mode. The targetting computer in her helmet popped up green and then red as she sleected a target, a line of incoming armed fighters and the rocket exploded from its housing, flying like a flaming javelin towards the line, the explosion tossing bodies up like twigs. Maximum effort. Clearly.

Orin was just /not/ doing great!

<<HOLD THE LINE! DO NOT BREAK!>>

While Orin was unlikely to get the 'OYA!' war chant that Sumi inspired with her leadership, Orin was going to damn-well try to encourage and inspire all the same.

He keeps firing at the enemy. He doesn't quit, he doesn't give up trying to hit these kriffing horde dung-slingers. But instead, he hits nothing but air with barely misses. Thankfully, he's proven just as hard to hit.

<<FORWARD!>>

The line is utter chaos. The sound of dying and war is occasionally overshadowed by the close air support whipping by overhead. This time, it's a Y-Wing breaking the sound barrier and stirring up dust as it passes by with a scream of thrusters. A purple hue is released from the Y-Wing's belly that hits the ground with tremendous force.

The explosion is masked by the presence of dirt, and it vortexes up before spreading out all at kinetic speeds faster than sound can keep up. The concussive force spreads and passes by the shield wall before the deafening sound followed, droning out everything else until the soft-sounding 'TINK TINK TINK THUD' of falling debris lands all around them.

Another rocket hisses by, striking a different point, causing a second shockwave. Sumi can feel her knees weak from all the force, the overload of adrenaline, the feeling of being alone, trapped in this fog of war despite being surrounded on all sides by warriors. In a moment of tachypsychia, Sumi glances down the line, her perspective of time slowed significantly. Every Mandalorian holding a shield has placed their body against it, pushing as hard as they can to keep it in place.

As time begins to render back to what Sumi considers normal, the ringing in her ears fades a bit; enough to hear the Commander issue the order to move forward. OYA sounds along the line as they step over the slain, lifting shields and shoving forward. Sumi slips through the crack in defense to attack. It's an inferno on the other side, bodies in different states of burning. Vehicles are dark shapes, hissing by and firing blindly with turrets that light the wafting smoke and dust with hues of laser fire. A shadow approaches, bursting through the smoke and charging right at Sumi. She impales them upon her laser sword realizing they were only charging her because they saw the light in all the chaos and darkness.

He still pushes against her and twice she fails to stop him enough to withdraw the weapon. So she cuts down and out, growling and yelling aloud. He's split in two, and she listens to his anguish just before the shield bearers step upon him and silence him for good by slamming the shield down on his head.

"OYA!" They scream again, line set.

The wend and bend of friend and foe alike keeps Colo glued to something other than Valeska. Whether Hadrix's holding-on, a peep towards Zena's firing position, the thrill of Sumi's purple flailing or general worry over Valeska, he's mostly just doing his level best to keep track of as many variables as possible. That goes triple for the missions he's calling in, at least when he's got enough guts to stick his head back over the crater-lip. <<"That was a good beat, Control, how about that many again, tighter cluster this time? The rekkers are clustering up a -smidge- too tight, so...yeah, uh-huh, shutting up now, roger.">> 

With his loquacity properly attended to, the Corellian clicks his comms back to his sugar cake. <<"I saw you throw that grenade. What did we say about fancy maneuvers, Valeska?">> The chiding would be a bit more meaningful, Colo suspects, if not for Amaia's rocket blast looking -very- fancy as it vaporizes one of the enemy. <<"...that doesn't count.">>

Terek's gunfight with the shock trooper lances back and forth, the Mandalorian cathar's W-35 lancing out, punctuated by his off hand firing his Glie, as he moves towards a better position, a bolt sailing past him at the same time, "Drek! Come on!" He yells, mostly at himself. He's knows he's better than that, and in a life or death situation like this mistakes like that are deadly. At this point it might be easier to move up and whack the guy with a blaster.

Valeska does as was recommended by the orange-hued Mando in the crater acting as a guidance system to the strafing starfighter above. She stays the hell away from the speeders. Though the cloud of sand and smoke has made it difficult for her to hit her target, so, too, has it made her difficult to hit in return. Blaster bolts are coming at her through the haze and Valeska finds herself employing something she never thought she would have a use for.

Math.

What was it Colo said? Something about two points and angles and meeting in the middle? Valeska triangulates the angle and slope that the bolts are coming from and rips another ion from her belt. <"Let's see ya suck on this!">

Wuff! In goes the ion grenade.

Pop! It crackles made with lightning again.

Whoosh! The vehicles drive right past it.

<<"I tried to use your stupid MATH! It didn't work, yeah?!">>

Verra squeezes off a few more shots at the line of troops from where she's crouched. She curses into her comms as her shots don't find the targets she was hoping for, and she ducks down to avoid debris from, the numerous explosions around her.

<<"Kar'Tracyn... I swear...">> managing to keep his feet this time, even if the first shot is going well wide of the mark, Hadrix digs in and stacks up against one of the shield wallers when he makes his next shot - aiming for a truck driver before he squeezes.

<<"Coordinates acknowledged, spot. Rotworm inbound, danger close. ">> The Red Wolf's voice on comms, cool and maybe even self satisfied as the Kora Y-Wing rounds, the gray hulled Firespray-31 screaming just ahead of it, all five cannons ripping into the line, or more firing just before them. Kae Kora hemming them in before the old transport-sized-fighter is roaring past, spewing up an avian-tail of sand that screens Sana's approach just behind.

The bikers circle, a two-dimensional dogfight with Teela Kloo in the middle and inexplicably not outgunned despite their best efforts, weaving some when a speeder truck comes tumbling past. The co-pilot having failed to keep things steady after a plasma sheathed durasteel bolt tore through the main driver, spraying blood and guts inside the control cabin.

The advance falters, finally, when all of the world is enveloped in the flames of Haran itself. Proton Bombs, in atmosphere, are devastating. Many fear the vaunted Thermal Detonator. Very few survive seeing anti-capital ship ordinance going off on a planet. The explosion, even at minimum safe distances, is enough to make the audio-filters of functioning Mandalorian helmets simply cut out pickups. It rattles bones and leaves a ringing like an alarm klaxon in ones ears. Noses bleed, eyes water and teeth feel like they're going to shake loose from ones gums.

The flash opaques visors, completely, to stave off blindness, both permanent and temporary. The shockwave is sends a sandstorm and rises a mushroom cloud above the dusty plains. Were it to rain the impact crater would form the center of a small lake when the ground begins to sink in months to follow.

What fire comes from the Warlord's forces is made sporadic now, the unleashing of such devastation forcing a re-thinking of strategy and a possible halt of the advance.

This is going poorly.

The blaster fire is coming in and, thankfully, not doing a whole lot to keep Teela from continuing, but the bike is on it's last leg. Putting along in the sand with all the dirt accumulated from the biker dog-fight starting to have a noticable effect on the power output. She's leaning forward over the throttle, twisting to press more power, but it is becoming absolutely clear that she isn't going to make a dent in the circling birds...

<<"Wrek this.">>

She drops the power and spins the bike around with her foot slamming down in the sand. Not to get an angle for a shot, but to line the bike up on one of the advancing trucks with their anti-personale guns. <<"Coming in very KRIFFIN' hot.">>

She throttles back and tries not to get herself blown off the seat as she jerks on the column to pop the front end up as she b-lines straight for the, now, incoming assault vehicle. At the last minute, she pops the clutch to jump the bike, intentionally stalling the vehicle perhaps, but it leaps off the sand... With Teela diving off to one side. Sliding through the dirt, poncho flapping in the aftermath, blaster in hand, and walking away from the scene of her carnage.

The sharp front end of that speeder goes right through the duraglass windshield... Right through the driver... and into the back seat.

Then is frikin' explodes.

She is not looking back.

Because Mandalorian's don't.

Zena watches through her viewfinder. The chaos and violence out there is terrible. Massive. Exciting.

And really cool as Teela uses her speeder as a missile to wreck somebody's day. Which is the rest of their life because no one can survive that. "So kriffin' cool!" Zena squees to herself, not on comms because this is a serious fight.

Zena takes aim again, after her moment, and squeezes off a shot, aiming for the fuel cells of a speeder. She ends up shooting wide, hitting a patch of sand and turning it to glass.

And then the world exploded, or tried to, and Mai closed her eyes, even though her helmet dimmed out to protect her vision. If there was one thing a ship's gunner did not act cavalier about, it was her vision. But soon enough, the visor had cleared, and Mai, not having the time to bring the rifle back up to aim, raised her wrist instead, the laser firing, though not hitting at the vehicle operator closed to her location. Would she end up run down? Stay tuned!

It was time for a change.

There's good guys, bad guys, and explosions. So many explosiosn that one could be blinded by the light of them all. But, instead of aiming for rank and file soldiers, Orin is attempting to hit the vehicle crew. He manages to fire his blaster and peg one of the Crew members right in the shoulder! It was good enoughto make him bleed, but not enough to take him down /permanently/. 

Yet, Orin is happy he had managd to hit the broadside of a barn.

<<BURN 'EM UP!>>

And in the chos, Orin tries to thrive.

with their own wake. More is to be stirred though as bright crimson lances impact the terra firma, thundering along a line that yielded another explosion. Yet nothing in comparison to yet another proton bomb. Thankfully, this one is not /as/ close as the other, but the same experience sweeps the front line leaving them blanketed by the darkness of sand, dirt, and death.

The shield bearers move forward again, parting the wall enough for attackers to brave the space beyond the shield to cut down desperate enemies. That is exactly what Sumi finds on the other side. They see the violet hue of her lightsaber through the muck and chaos, charge it, only to die. This time, she avoids impaling by stepping into a spin intended to build her momentum. When the rotation completes, she's off to one side of her foe and her weapon's violet blade is dragged through their mid-section.

He is cut through like a hot knife to butter, and before Sumi can engage others, the shields plant ahead of her, and the line screams out OYA in solidarity. <<"ONLY FORWARD, MANDO'ADE!">>

Colo's watching it all from what he'd call a civilized distance. Shell-craters are for brilliant tacticians and those that pilot viewfinders and comms rather than walkers, he figures. That it gives him plenty of vantage point to enjoy the fireworks? Even better. One of them he's watching more closely than the others receives his utmost attention on the comms. <<"Ori'skraan, we talked about this. Math isn't some ancient deity you get to curse when you miss. Refactor and try again,">> Colo soothingly encourages to Valeska before switching his speaking comms over anew.

<<"Great blastin', there. Rotworm on-target. Keep it up. Spot out,">> Colo confirms before dropping the line. Even from his position at a distance, the scout can see that the Warlord's forces have begun to question life's little choices. He snags his camo-ed blaster from the crater and bounds up with a burst from his hated jetpack to leap towards the rest of the Kora and, he hopes, to victory. His blaster crackles with a dazzling, aureate sizzle into one Kora foe that didn't make the decision fast enough. That's plenty enough to get him yelping out in unison with Sumi and Orin. <<"Forward!">> From the back, that is.

Things are getting out of hand, and in Terek's case, it becomes quite literal as a shot from the guy he's been fighting knocks the W-35 out of his hand with a close blast that kicks up some rocks. After a quick curse under his breath, Terek reaches for the blaster, only to have another shot kick up near his hand as he goes for it.

Instead he rolls, tossing the Glie over to his right hand and comes up into a kneeling position, his blast finding its mark and knocking the shock trooper off his feet. Terek is quick to get back to solid footing, after scooping up the W-35 and tucking it into the holster with his off hand, turning to strike another Shock Trooper in the head with a second blast from the Glie, <"Looks like great effect with those bombs!">

Before Valeska can even whip back a retort, a crashing blow CRACKS her on the side of her helmet, knocking down her comms for a moment as well as what sense she has while hovering in the air in the middle of a damned battlefield. The concussive power of that hit alone is enough to push her back and falter in the air. Nevermind the freighter-sized ringing of her bell. Disorientation blurs her vision and there is something very warm running down the left side of her face beneath the helmet.

<<"R-rekk...">> That managed to punch a good deal of her gusto out of her. A vehicle goes speeding past her, triggering an automatic response from Valeska. She twists in the air, extending out her left arm and firing her whipcord at the driver. But at these speeds and in this pandemonium, she goes wide. It wraps around an jutting piece of metal on the mech and rather than get dragged behind it, Valeska is quick to release the cord and send it on its merry way.

Shot after shot fires from Verra's carbine, and the woman curses quite loudly as she misses one after another. She's normally better at this! She glances at her Firelance briefly, glaring at the ammoless rifle.

The turn on the field is enough to buy breathing room for the defenders.

Enough of such that more come from the way of the mountain, speeder-skiffs from the Saiwali clan ripping just before the defending line, dropping barricade panels and more shield bearers who plant their defenses into the dirt an locking down bracing spikes to turn them into a wall that the moving shield wall joins and makes similar action with.

Medics begin moving among the wounded that are behind the line. Others are moving to downed hulks of wrecked speeders to turn them into defensive positions and among the lot, Hadrix has stopped firing - swapping his comms to the defense force wide-frequency.

<<"Dig in, they're faltering. We don't have position to force them back. But we cut off their momentum.">> the cultured growling Coruscanti accent lilting across the airwaves. His head is above the shield line though, scanning, blink marking and his rifle is slung so that he can work his vambrace controls. Hold points being marked and potential vectors for enemy advance to keep watch of.

Enemy trucks are swinging to show their broadsides to the defense line, having fallen back a mere fifty meters distance, armor panels being swung over sides and repulsors cutting to turn the vehicles into walls to provide defilade against incoming fire. Sporadic fire passes back and forth, but neither side advancing on the other.

<<"Hope you packed field rations, we may be here a while.">>

The Warlord's forces are digging in as well, vehicle weapons being turned into emplacement weapons and the bass rumble of a warhorn going off is joined by others down the battle line.