Log:Mandalorians: Private War
Mandalorians: Private War
OOC Date: December 23 2020
Location: Dxun - Japrael System
Participants: Avery Ihala Kora and Hadrix Kora as gm Clan Kora
Dxun - Demon Moon of Onderon - Japrael System - Lesser Lantillian Route
The Woor'tra had moved past the chosen battlefield with the Sanyassan raiders still lingering on the surface of Dxun. Kora with clanless, Reviver, and aruetiise aid were dropping even as the Wind in The Void screamed away, the contingent of drop forces having tumbled from the bay doors to engage in the battle now left behind.
<"Onderon is trying to use the work we're doing for them to work their way into our territory."> Hadrix had said, before the drop. With Avery alone on the bridge, save for the presence of Gripper and Heiyuu, the R2 unit working the autopilot functions.
<"Greeza and Pheegus are going to drop you while making it look like he's bringing the ship towards Bral'Prudiise... I need to to land, move, access their systems and give them a bloody nose, little brother."> Hadrix's voice earnest, the twi'lek and Ithorian in Mandalorian armor at the controls looking over and nodding. <"You're going to be on your own. I know you're capable of this, Avery, or I wouldn't charge you."> motioning to Gripper's holodisplay.
<"They dropped in a sensor tower, reinforced it's base against the jungle and are calibrating it. Blow it up, make it ours. Either way good. If you want to avoid a fight, I understand. But this is your job and I have faith in you."> the final words from the vocally secular Mandalorian. Faith.
Now Avery was in the cargo bay of the ship, cargo-bay doors open for him to drop when he needed. Faith earned? Or misplaced?
It would be an understatement to say Avery was nervous. On his own, in hostile territory, never before had anything close to this occurred. Even in the First Order there was always the team, when anyone was knocked down or injured, the team was there to pick them up. Now, here, in unfamiliar territory, it was just him... The messy haired Mandalorian nods once resolutely, sucking in a deep breath as he slipped his obsidian helmet over his head and readied for the drop. <"I can do it, you can count on me.">
He checked all of his equipment as he moved toward the open and whistling hatch, Tracker, A280, armor, and jetpack... everything seemed to be in working order and ready to attack, defend, or simply whisk him away on command. The young slicer gave one final look back to the cockpit, a hand lifting to salute to those gathered, and he turns to drop into nothingness. As dark as the night sky, the obsidian Mandalorian fell through the air, freefalling for a little while his HUD picked up possible landing locations and any opposition that might give him trouble. Spying a decent open space to touch down, as well as a few camo'd Onderonians, Avery ignited his rocketpack to ease his landing, touching down without a worry in the world.... so far.
The jungle can help mask the roar of a jetpack, but the flare of the thrusters itself is another story. Avery's maneuver is good, quite good really, to mask his form of approach. One keen eye spots a falling star in the jungle that raises a head and creates a motion for the others to look that source of light. Confusion and concern growing as they begin drawing weapons.
No calls go out, not on this moon, but the one working at the panels begins moving quickly, tools in hand and datapad plugged into a port.
No fire comes yet, but cover is taken and one lifts his hand, likely speaking into a commlink while he scouts the night jungle with wide eyes.
Had he had his Skyripper on his approach would have been much more stealthy, able to glide in on a wing and a prayer. As it is, he pulled more notice than intended and needed to revise his strategy. He would have to remove them all eventually in order to get to the tech panel and he's not the best at hand to hand combat... Avery decides taking the first shot from 'stealth' would probably be the best way to go. At least that way he'd get one or two shots off before taking return fire.
The former trooper unslings the A280 from his back and lowers himself to the ground, laying the massive weapon down in front of him to steady his shot. As he lines up the sights, a rock catches his attention from the corner of his eye. Yes, perfect, a distraction is just what he needs to pull their attention before his shot comes flying from cover. Avery leans over to grab the rock, hefts it, and flings it FAAAAAaaaaaaaar away..... about five or so feet... not nearly far enough. "Kriff!" he curses under his breath while quickly lining up the rifle to fire, his cover now blown. He squeezes the trigger and the weapon flares to life, sending a searing red bolt directly into his target, the Onderonian being sent head over heels backward with the force of the blast.
A small smile catches his lips when the return fire goes wide. Avery shifts a hair in his position, wiggling to get a bit more comfortable, that pebble in the unprotected part of his gut being a little more than annoying. He toggles back and forth between the two that remain, checking the cover of each, trying to determine who would be the easiest to take out. The slicer decides that, since he's here to stop the operation of that scanner, it might best simply to prevent the Onderonian from using it. Blaster fire he can take, he hopes... if the machine gets up and running, it'll be bad news for everyone.
Avery shimmies a bit to the right, angling the rifle toward the target on the console. He peers at him for a moment, sucking in a breath to hold, before squeezing the trigger and letting another blast fly. Unfortunately this one strikes the metal nearby, scattering sparks in the air and providing no more than a light show for the two that oppose him.
More fire, enough to help the rifleman try to zero in on Avery's position, the onderonians keep to task. The one forced to duck and keep in deeper cover, with crimson plasma darts slamming into the metal next to him, is forced to work under enough duress to get a warning tone from the panel.
"Focus damnit!" The bole of a tree set with a smoking crater with boiling sap pouring out when return fire goes wide of the Mandalorian attacker. "They're coming!"
"They're not here yet!"
"FOCUS" More bolts go out, igniting a bit of a vine after flash vaporizing the moisture within and another slamming into the dirt further off. But they keep looking east, hopefully.
The good news is, this is going about as he had expected.... Avery didn't think he was going to waltz in, take out everyone, shut the machine down, and leave without any trouble. Regardless, he could always have hoped it went much better. More return fire scores the earth and foliage nearby causing debris to plink off his armor and the ground nearby. He grits his teeth and decides taking out the one who is actively shooting might, in fact, be a better decision. The A280 turns, focuses, and fires, the red bolt of plasma slamming into the unfortunate individual who ragdolls like his partner had only moments before. "Yes! That's more like it!" Comes the cry from Avery, turning his attention to the last man alive, eager to end him and in doing so, cease the manipulations of the machine.
As his final defender hits the ground, the one at the console has no choice. Looking between the console and the newly dead comrades of his in their cover posture the Onderonian reached to flip down his armors' combat visor, took deep breaths and prepared himself. Rising and aiming his pistol where muzzle flare had finally given away the Mandalorian's position, a dotted line of crimson connects them briefly with the shot with intention to kill, rather than disable.
Night birds and reptoavians lifts up suddenly, eastward. A fair distance off but enough to be noticeable while the combat-tech calls out,
"Best run now! Reinforcements soon you et-chuta!" The onderonian still looks eastward though with movements a little quicker for such confident words.
It's generally at that moment of confidence, when things are going well, that something happens to cause for concern. And, as if on cue, when the second gunman falls, Avery takes return fire in the chest provided by the quick witted Onderonian at the console. <"OW!"> Comes the call from the helmet of the Mandalorian, followed by a, <"Well sod this!"> Avery stands, taking the A280 with him, and leaps into the air with his jetpack igniting behind him. Propelled by the rockets, and a little by fury, the Mandalorian angles through the sky, spinning at the last moment to plant both of his feet into the chest of the wide-eyed Onderonian. The target, for his part, is sent heavily to the dirt from the blow, knocking the helpless Onderonian on his ass. Avery settles on his feet and brings the A280 up into the prone Onderonian's face, the man now finding himself staring down four feet of Blastech Blaster. <"Call off the reinforcements.....">
Put onto the ground by the inbound flying Mandalorian, the combat tech's breath is knocked out of him when he is kicked aside. Pistol knocked from his grip, the armored soldier glares up at Avery from the ground, snarling into the visor pointed at him despite the blaster rifle trained on him. More rumbling comes from the east, repulsor engines most like.
Dangerous, but he ultimately desperation drives the man to make his play. Turning on his side the jungle warrior swinging his legs for Avery's now in hope of turning things into a ground fight. It's an awkward move and hindered by positioning and poor terrain for leverage - something that the soldier can see coming and potentially deflect.
"To all the Hells of the Galaxy for you, Mando scum! Onderon and her moon for ONDERON!" Brave man.
Avery simply lifts his leg out of harm's way when the Onderonian tries to sweep him off his feet. Foot returned to the ground, the Mandalorian sighs, and shakes his head. <"Wrong move..."> before pulling the trigger and removing the man's head from his shoulders. The A280 is a nasty weapon at range and the results up close are... well, they speak for themselves. He spares the headless corpse a moment before glancing to the east, the repulsor engines definitely setting off alarm bells in the young slicer's mind. "Now to shut this thing down." Avery remarks while slinging his A280 over his shoulder,the T-visor helmet turning toward the scanner itself before settling on the console that controls it.
Clear, yes, for now - but the rumble of engines is closer yet. A small vehicle, one or two man for sure. Tree limbs shake and lights glow out of the dark as it comes closer. A small amount of time allotted for Avery to start his work at the tower.
Destroy. Disable. Make it Kora's... Viable options, if he can buy himself the time to do it.
The quiet that had momentarily settled over the very, very, small clearing being filled again with jungle sounds competing with the encroaching craft that is racing between the trees to reinforce where dead men once stood.
A measure of panic starts to grip the young slicer as he moves to the console. The sound bouncing off the trees and the searing pain in his chest make it hard to determine how close the reinforcements are. Still, he has a job to do and do it he shall! Avery takes a minute to look over the controls, biting his lip as he unlatches a compartment on the side and feeds a line from his suit into the console. Immediately the man goes to work, tapping out commands on his datapad and trying to subvert the systems of the scanner. In his haste he makes mistakes, multiple tones sounding to announce his failure at cracking the security of the device. "Come on... come on!" He cries frustrated, another glance given to the direction of the impending craft.
Access. Denied.
Access. Denied.
Perhaps the worst of all messages to be given by a terminal system as Avery tries to work. The rumbling now joined by more direct flash-beams coming through the trees are suddenly uninhibited when a personal, sled breaks through. It's an old model, a combination of tracked speeder with repulsor support to get through thick growth, complete with a beak prow to shove through debris and foliage as it does now. Bursting from the jungle to leap across a gap and start heading towards Avery's position.
No shots yet, but weapons are rising from the flanks of the vehicle and are likely powering up.
No time to complain at his own mistakes, he simply has to do what he's here for. The Mandalorian hunkers down behind the console, getting as much cover as can be managed between him and the craft. Nervous energy takes him and his fingers fly faster over the readout, inputting breaks here, pushing through backdoors there. Sadly, once more, the haste causes mistakes and the console again beeps out warnings and errors, pushing his intrusion aside. "Come ON you stupid machine!" Avery cries, peering over the top of the divider at the approaching sled, its weapons powering up and turning toward the tethered man. He's never used the Force but the young slicer calls to everything, including that mystical energy, to help him as he tries to crack the code.
Access. Denied.
The system blinks again and the sounds of the engines are joined by the scream of anti-personnel blasters engaging. The world is moving in slow motion. Adrenaline? Pain? A combination of the two? Is this what Hadrix had meant all those times that he and Avery had sat and talked, the big man discussing how he felt combat was like? Was this what Avery remembered when his armor was glossy white or red striped black?
A heavy chugging and green bolts chewing up the ground, and through the limited cover while Avery works. The screen still flashing the hated message.
Access. Denied.
Avery, in his panic to disable the scanner, had neglected to bring his entire body into cover. He pays for it nearly immediately when one of the blasts from the sled damn near removes the use of his leg. "AAAAAAAAAH!" Avery cries as the pain wracks his body, dropping the slicer on his ass and pulling his hand from the datapad. He sits there for a moment, clutching at the space around the hole in his leg when his eyes light on the utility belt around his waist.... He has a Comp in there... If he had the time to facepalm he would. Instead, that time better used by pushing through the pain, yanking the Universal Comp from his belt, and jacking that sucker in. <"Now we're cooking!"> He states through grit teeth, diving back into the system to navigate the security.
It's almost a night and day result, the Comp providing the interface and ease of use to allow the slicer access to the systems. From there, it's just a couple of button presses away and the scanner starts to short-circuit. The internal workings of the machine begin to fight themselves, software being wiped away, breakers being fused, all in all a complete system failure. Grinning like an idiot the injured Mandalorian gets to his feet, hobbles for a second, raises both hands in the most obscene gesture he can manage, and ignites his jetpack. In a moment the staggered man is shooting into the sky, watching his foes get smaller as he rises, his breath coming quick and ragged as the pain of the wind rushing by open wounds registers more on his mind. He switches communications, patching into the Woor'tra's direct comms, <<"Hadrix, I'm done and airborne. We...NNNhn.... we didn't get the scanner but the machine is down... come and get me?">>
<<"Woor'tra is en route, they've been watching.">>
There is a fortune there for Avery in the matter of fixed vehicle weapons on a ground sled. Unless it can get to a hill to put it on an incline - it can't shoot up. Only set some of the supports glowing beneath him a split second before he is cast into the air. A fireworks display behind him as the panel system begins to blare its alert shortly before it bursts into sparks - power supplies built into the structure screeching as the cascade overload begins to streak through failing systems.
Regulators fail resulting in hard, blue-white, bursts of the micro-generators detonating and blowing out more structural piping, forcing the sled driver to wheel and seek to get clear of the height of the tower when it inevitably would come down.
The massive form of the VCX-350 hoves into view at high speeds, the Twi'lek and Ithorians at the controls working in unison to have the cargo doors open, to scoop Avery in while he burns skyward. But it's Hadrix who answers, not aboard - much further away with the sounds of blaster bolts and heavy weapons fire mixed with demolitions explosions in the background, even through the sound dampening of his helmet.
<<"Copy that, Vod'ika. Get to the med-bay. Rathe or I will patch you up when we're done here.">> a momentary pause as the ship moves on, shields raising as it causes the tops of trees and the bounty of the jungle canopy to bend after its wake.
