Log:Thyferra: One Simple Delivery

A group of rag-tag Samaritans help out the rebellion on Thyferra by delivering guns!

OOC Date: May 16, 2022
Location: Thyferra
Participants: Spicerunners, Ulani Kalgaav, Bors Thul, Ektor, Amallia Madine, Kohnner, Black Krrsantan, Khalim, Rune, Tovani Enno, Mister Bones NPC, Poe Dameron

"ALRIGHT PEOPLE, LOAD UP INTO THE BIG RIG, AND FIND A PLACE TO SHOOT FROM!" Calls out Poe from the assembly area where the speeder and its long trailer have been staged so resistance members on Thyferra could load it with ordnance, weapons, and armor pilfered from the cold dead grasps of the dead. Poe opens the door to the cab, climbing inside with a grunt, and turning the engine over to bring it online and rumbling. He shifts the gear in place and waits for the all clear to head outside the wire and along the route.

Cranking up the radio and the comms, Poe puts something on blast to get the team in the mood for a fight, because of Resistance intelligence was true, they'd be in for one.

The trailer that's hooked to the truck is a large and long contraption capable of carrying several tons of gear. Parts of the trailer have been cut open and reinforced with durasteel, adding weight and protection. This was considered, by all accounts, a one way trip. Defendable positions on the trailer included a TURRET on the back, and firing positions on the RIGHT and LEFT of the trailer with cover. It's present weakness was from above, where the people climbing inside had no means to contend with. In theory, someone could land on top if the crew was unlucky.

<<"This is Commander Dameron, give me comms check on all, and someone remind Santo we're leaving. He said he'd kill me if I left him behind... again.">>

Among the things needed to get on board last minute were two load lifters which required people to (roll) drive them up the ramp and secure them inside the trailer. In order to drop gear at the drop points, they would have to make use of the loadlifters to offload when they hit each location.

<<"BE ADVISED, --pretty girl--, THIS UNITS combat protocols have been activated. SETTING PREJUDICE TO MAXIMUM. ALLOW THE MURDERING TO COMMENCE..">> Communicates the skinny blue and red, bone covered B1 Battledroid (Mister Bones) wearing a portion of a spine for a mohawk over its beak-like head. The droid draws out a sniper rifle, priming the receiver to generate a high-pitched WHINE. The droid hoists itself into the back of the trailer and takes a position on the right, scanning for hostiles /vigilantly/.

After escaping Kuat and ending up on Chandrila, Ulani had planned to surrender herself to the New Republic. As a defector of the First Order, in a way, it was the only thing she could think of doing to right the wrongs she had helped create. Instead, she had come across another option: join the efforts. And thus she had.

When Corellia was in need, Ulani went; barely competent in anything beyond computer work and wholly ignorant of the worlds beyond Kuat. When Naboo made a call, she followed to do as she could. And when her squadron dissolved and her mates scattered to the corners of the galaxy, Ulani continued her efforts on New Alderaan whom she had grown to cherish as her true home.

And now with Thyferra begging for help and the New Republic caught up in politics, Ulani felt that call again. To go and help. Thus she joins an old friend and Black Leader Poe on the one-way convoy, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder before he goes to his station and she climbs up into the vehicle and heads towards the back where the turret is mounted. A quick look around to check if anyone else had called dibs then she pops herself into the seat and belts herself in. <<"Techie manning the turret, Pretty Boy. Just try to drive straighter than usual.">>

Mounting up in one of the right hand firing positions, boot mag-locks engaging to help keep him steady, Lord Thul's helmet is on and the cerulean glowing visor is glowing steadily as he bites a tab, <<"Copy you, Commander. A Thul is among thee." checking his blaster charge and moving off broad comms, not paying attention to the fact he's mic-ing what he'd been doing before the call for comms check went out,

<"We reefed the sails and slowed the ship, to fish that barrel out! The old ship sailed to the distance, and we saw her come about. The captain watched through a spy-glass, and we heard him catch his breath, and we saw the storm a-brewing, had become a wall of death!"> Dock songs, star sailor shanties of his years with the NRSFU... and Black Squadron, and Aldera Squadron... Really it's a pretty constant habit of his, singing these things.

<"Turn this ship around me boys! Turn around and run! That storm it wants a battle, and it's sure that were outgunned! What of the ship that's out there, do we leave her to the gale? She's called the Hungry Barabel, and it's rage that fills her sails!"> head bobbing as he belts it out, with at least some practice to his singing voice.

"Boney, Boney, Boney.. easy on the prejudice, yeah? You can murder a stack of Hutt-suckers without being such a Human about drek, yeah?" Ektor scolds the psychotic droid with a crooked grin from above the driver's cab to offer another pilfered piece of loot lifted off the dead to Poe: a bottle of whiskey.

In typical Ektor form, it's empty. His newly freed gunhand draws an old Civil War era Imperial blaster, rebuilt and remodified many times over. <<"Buh-Bors, I said it before I'll say it again: there ain't no spot in the Galaxy where people talk like you." A chuckle follows.

One of those load lifters is being guided up and into place on the back of the trailer by plucky renegade Amallia Madine! She seems familiar enough with the operation of the heavy machinery, guiding it into place up that ramp and deftly maneuvering it into place. When it's aboard and secure, she hops off and makes sure the mag-locks are in place and holding it to the trailer. Safe and sound.

She takes a position on the RIGHT side of that trailer, her back pressed up against the reinforced cover. By habit, Mollie's checking on the focusing crystal and ionizing-aperture of her Caelli-Merced III by snapping it forward at its breakaway point and twisting all the various tension dials into place. When she snaps it back up, the entire weapon shudders within her hands, its red light shining through on all sides as it comes alive. She toggles from stun to kill, kill to stun, and then stun to kill by habit as well. A bit of a compulsive thing. She likes the way the different settings feel in her palm.

<<"Mollie Madine, reading you loud and clear Commander Dameron. And might I say you are sounding quite radiant today. Are we blossoming in the Thyferran heat?">> Mollie snaps that Caelli-Merced towards the ground out the side of the trailer but, before it hits the ground, makes a slow press of her thumb towards her palm. This activates the magnetic recall and snaps that weapon back up into her hand with a loud -smack-.

"Alright then."

Kohnner stared at the speeder and it's large trailer, his Canine eyes squinting in accompaniment with his under-bite pushed up just a bit to express what could likely only be described as dumbfounded. The Klatooinian wasn't the smartest bulb out there and he really hadn't figured out what was going on despite all the information he likely had been given.

He didn't have a single ranged weapon on him. So his hawkish perception went to find the likely choke points if they were at all landed, or points in which he could board another speeder with a jump or crawl. Either way, he sauntered hi large frame onto the speeder, He stopped just short of boarding, sniffing and turning to notice Ektor. There was a low growl from the Canine before he continued along and found himself a good defensible position from a boarding party where close combat might come in play. He winced, working out his arm, where there was still blaster damage to his civilian market low end light armor. Looking around at the others, he didn't say a word, just grunted an affirmative that he was in position.

Turning his head towards Bors, he stared at the Alderaanian, remembering him from the last mission he had accepted. Then he hung his head.

It was going to be a long ride.

No fear, Poe. Santos is here! A huge black haired Wookiee arrives carrying his long gun and of course can pound things up close hand to hand. He slings the rifle over his shoulder by the strap and starts to climb up towards the turret, clealy intending to take that position. Even though he's a very good climber, Krrsantan has barely started up than he hears Ulani has already belted in up there.

A disgruntled wuff and he decides instead to take up one of the side positions that afford a little cover. Not that he really needs any cover as he's just too big for it. Somebody else could use the cover and he'll move around as needed - but it's a place to start.

Over their shared coms, the Wook rumbles and yowls low, <<"In position, starboard side. Tell me if you need me elsewhere at any point.">>

The long gun is unshouldered and checked one last time. Santos looks ready to roll. [Language: Shyriiwook]

To Khalimn, the galaxy had become, over time, a web of loosely connected aquaintances. Favors, earned and owed. Friendships, seemingly few of which did not in some way incur debt or obligation. It was difficult to say where the strongest assocations were here; to exactly whom the mirialan felt some degree of connection.

A look to the teal-hued wroonian beside him prompts a lightly quirked smile. He sniffs, grates a low, "Smells like trouble," and taps Tovani's gauntleted hand with his own. Then he's up, climbing behind one of those bits of jury-rigged armor plating, pistol withdrawn and quietly humming through its power-cycle.

It's a bit like getting the band back together, a number of members of Black Squadron having taken up the call at Poe's request. Thus it is that Rune finds himself among the motley crew, the Jedi in his black and brown robes standing out just as much as the others do for their various wear. A smile finds each of the crew as he boards the trailer, hazel eyes looking critically at the defenses they have present on the contraption.

"That is the truth, Ektor. I do not believe I have heard a single 'shanty' outside of missions with Bors." Rune states as he fishes a black metal cylinder from his belt, positioning himself in the middle of the trailer ready to repel boarders and other unwelcome guests to their party. "This looks to be an interesting journey made only more fun with those present." he adds, a nod and a widening grin given to those he hasn't had the pleasure of battling alongside... yet.

Tovani is not ment to gun things down, direct focused action is what one would expect from the Wroonian but for the moment her skills are used in guiding the loader lifters, giving oof a delighte 'WOOP' when it starts to shift. It takes her a moment to gain control and the feel for it but the woman is eventually following Amalia up aboard the transport.

She sits inside for a second as she settles it into place and then begins to unbuckle herself from within. A few moments later and she is sliding down and out of the machinery, the smasher armor given a tug as shea djusts it.

She crosses the distance to settle near Khalim, giving those who are armed a look bnefore her gauntlet is tapped. A grin with a flash of teeth follows. "Trouble...everywhere. Hard to not fall right into it." She sniffs around him and then the air. "Not bad enough yet," she teases and then is shifting, taking up a position, ready to move where she is needed and guard the occupants who are going to be hitting their marks. "Going to need to learn how to shoot it seems....you up for that?" This called over to Khalim.

Poe slaps down a series of switches on the dash, bringing the vehicle to life beneath him with a defiant growl of motor and engineering. <<"That's a good copy on ALL traffic. Tourists, be advised our craft will be going into motion. COMBAT SEATING, you know your places. BONES.. have fun, buddy, and SANTO.. I don't feel safe telling you to do anything, pal. You're just.. too big! Haha! HANG ON PEOPLE, WE'RE OFF!">>

The back hatch to the trailer is a ramp that draws up and stores itself beneath, leaving the turret to be manned by Ulani Kalgaav. Positions within the trailer afford EXCELLENT shooting positions on the LEFT and RIGHT, and there's an access closer toward the cab with a ladder that goes UP to the roof, should it ever be needed.

When Poe goes into motion, there's no /gradual/ about it. He shoves the gear forward, GRINDING IT OUT LOUD FOR A SOLID FIVE SECONDS, then seats it before taking them off, /jerking/ the whole ride as he turns the BIG wheel to bring them around and toward the highway.

Almost immediately, the crew is set upon by smaller speeder trucks with gunmen. One is driving up directly behind the Resistance truck, another to the left, and another to the right. Each truck holds five Mercenaries, and they look eager for action. The one on the driver side rides up next to the cab, one of the guys on the back screaming, "PULL OVER!"

Poe rolls down the window and sticks his hand out in diplomatic communication. "PULL THAT OVER! HAAAAHAHA!"

Tucked in the back row, Ulani has a nice backwards view of their forward progress. Though she cannot see how the tanker truck is doing in terms of maneuverability, her body can certainly /feel/ every jerk and turn. White-knuckling her handles as her knees lock tighter onto her chair, she grunts with effort to keep herself in the bucket. This is why you always use your seatbelts, kids.

Immediately they are set upon by... well. Ulani doesn't know who they are. They could be agents of the Sith Empire. They could be mercencaries hired by the First Order to maintain control of these here parts. Whoever they are, they've only attacked with words so far so Ulani swivels her turret around and takes aim at the truck screaming up behind them and makes a point of visually activating the turret; it's barrel glowing a warning of blue. <<"Come on. Don't make me do it.">> She says to the mercs who definitely cannot hear her.

<<"Alderaan, Mr. Ektor, bring thee hence to the House of Thul and thou shalt be bathed in fine liquor, delightful liqueur, fine spirits and the most refined and grandest form of High Galactic ever experienced.">> helmet turning towards the Tionese's direction, sightable or no, one hand clutching an Oh-Drek stanchion above him and his legs stay firm with the magnetics keeping him fixed to the deck. Like the missions had never stopped.

<"The thunder growled like demons, and the lightning stabbed the waves, and the Barabel she leapt towards us! Riding fury from the graves, our captain, he stayed at the wheel, the crew they manned the lines and still that ship and storm were quickly closing in behind!"> lifting a hand to wave at some of the others, including the canid-humanoid hanging his head - singing stopping for a moment, <"Be not at ill humor if thou feel thine singing voice is lame or rough! Take up and know that thou art striding forth for good and glory!">

Oncoming, would be, harriers are looked upon and his rifle is brought up and sighted down towards potential enemies, <"Really wish I could have used my fighter for escort, eh?"> waggling the barrel of the carbine for the fellow to see, one hand up to offer the start of a polite wave that quickly becomes a gesture that might make Alderaanian court members GASP.

Such cheek.

Such nerve!

Ektor sways and cackles like Poe's driving is a source of grand amusement to the relapsed resistance fighter. Breezily, he draws to Rune, "You ever get the feeling you're doing the same drek you've done before? Know what I mean?" A lazy shrug, and Ektor casually blasts the driver of the speeder truck hugging close to their left. He continues rambling as the stricken driver loses control a d the mercenaries jump off before being Ng consumed in a spectacular crash. "Like, destiny is drek and all, I ain't saying destiny - rekk that, yeah? But it's like I always end up doing this drek, again. Know what I mean?" Another shrug, and he draws to Bors, between more blaster shots. <<"Can I drink the good booze and get bathed by pretty girls? Cause that sounds a lot better than bathing in booze, yeah? I already smell like the stuff-">> Heroes of the Galaxy, ladies and gentlemen.

Mollie presses up against the right side bit of cover, spying one of the incoming trucks slowly closing in on their location. One last switch of kill to stun. One last switch of stuun to kill. She exhales, looking out towards the others in the trailer alongside her. Those mercenaries get closer, and closer, and closer still, and it just so happens that the rightmost truck is taking the perfect angle to be on the receiving end of a bolt of Caelli-Merced charged plasma. The captain of the Heliost isn't known to be short on words, but she's quiet when she levels that blaster and squeezes the trigger.

__KROW__

__KROW__

The first bolt shatters the windshield and the second punches it in, spraying hot plasma and sparks in on the driver, who pulls his car roughly to the side and begins to lose control. She watches as the first makes an attempt at leaping off and finds themselves pancaked beneath durasteel and more than a fair share of wheels.

"Ahhh, rough go, mate," she says.

<<"We've bot boarders! I saw four, climbin' on top!">>

As apposed to his mission on Deyla previously, Kohnner was very used to ridding in a vehicle and getting tossed around. He knew where to hold and how to shift his body so he didn't get tossed around in the rig like others might have. It also helped he was large and hard a big center of mass to keep him stead with impeccable balance. He wasn't too sure what was going on with all the comm chatter, a lot of it went over the Klatooinian's head, but what he did understand was Ektor's blaster shot and then the thud and crash of a vehicle... and the impact of bodies along the roof of the Speeder.

Kohnner had a prejudice against the Tionese... but at least this one gave him prey with his impulsive behavior. He could look past the putrid smell for now.

"Heading up top." He announced, making his way to the ladder and starting to climb as quickly as he could, not yet drawing any weapons.

Pretty Boy puts the rig into motion with some painful grinding of gears and a sudden hard jerk. Krrsantan was holding on, sure he was! But his hand slips and he falls right on his arse and almost right off of the trailer! There's a snarl of annoyance. Slapping a huge hairy hand back up there, he pulls himself back up, looking ready to rip somebody's head off. Possibly Poe's.

Then they are moving. Nostrels flare, long gun is brought to bear as the drivers start to come out to haras them.

No diplomacy effort here. The massive Wookie bounty hunter lifts his rifle and aims to give the driver on the left side a personal welcome. The Kashyyyk long gun BOOMS and the windshield and the driver both are obliterated! The second shot probably hits the engine block as the truck starts to swerve.

Santos ROARS at his miss as the truck starts to swerve away, "COWARDS, COME BACK!"

[Language: Shyriiwook]

Tovani receives a side-long glance from the mirialan at her question of a little shooty-shooty instruction. Khalim nods, a slight upcurl to that smile betraying his approval at the prospects. "I think that's something I could be up for," he says, looking about to say more when Poe mashes the accelerator. A gauntleted hand grasps wildly for the edge of the armored plate he stands behind, body swaying hard with the sudden force of movement but Khalim manages - somehow - to remain standing though a grunt of surprised exertion does manage to escape.

There's a swerve, and a flurry of blaster bolts that begin transforming the tactical dimensions of this situation. Upon the left side of the trailer as he is, Khalim is suddenly faced with a quartet of thugs climbing up its side. There's a lean-out, a quick-sighting and a rapid double tap that sends a pair of golden bolts screaming into the ether. The vehicle's sway, that must have been the spoiler to a sight picture that had seemed pretty sure fire! KEEP IT STEADY POE! (Couldn't have been Khalim's over-quick trigger-pulls, right?!)

Any thought of a smooth ride went out the window when Poe gunned the truck forward, the trailer being mercilessly yanked along behind it and sending all its occupants scrambling. Rune stutter steps a few feet before recovering, his free hand snapping out for some sort of support before he manages to regain balance naturally albeit a bit clumsily. "That was certainly a snappy start."

Just as the crew is recovering from the harsh moment of acceleration they are overtaken by the gunmen looking to stop the Resistance and their mission. If Poe's well timed and expertly executed diplomatic gesture wasn't enough to set them to arms, the trailer bristling with weaponry probably did the trick.

The Padawan depresses the button on the metallic hilt prompting a emerald beam to extend from the tip, the weapon of the Jedi announcing its readiness with a twirled hum. Rune stands alert, ready to step up and deflect a shot sent into the trailer, defending his companions from a lucky warrior's attack.

Instead, the fight comes to them... after they disable a number of trucks that is, and the Thugs leap from the faltering vehicle to the trailer armament. The clatter of a number of feet on the sides, with only one cry in dismay, announces a number of uninvited guests. Summoning the Force, Rune focuses on a pair of feet he can view through one of the blaster holes in the side of the trailer... and yanks them backward off the side, pulling the unlucky owner of said legs with them. He releases his grip on the individual, watching as they flail wildly against the side of the trailer, fighting to get their other hand firmly gripped to the speeding vehicle. Rune mutters something about luck and turns his attention skyward where the others would be entering soon.

There is a faint clatter THUMP as Tovi struggles to grab the central ladder she is standing near when the vehicle lurches forward. An explicative in her colorful native tongue is murmured and lost within the shuffle of gun fire and the turret that leaves a sort of echoing sensation in her ears.

"It's just all sorts of loud in her!" She calls back to Khalim and is getting a better footing when she hears the collision of bodies to the outside of their mode of transportation.

The cries of people moving up top are enough to get her to nod. "Heading up!" Not that Khalim could stop her if he wanted as she holds to the sword and climbs a few of the rungs. Then with a jump and arch of her back she slides out of the opening, low atop the truck as she remains there a moment, feeling the shift of the air like an unwanted presence. It is even louder up here! The mauve of her hair violently whips around her face from the ponytail. She pffffts trying to get hair out of her mouth as she remains upon a knee and puts a booted foot down. She looks to Kohnner, giving him at thumbs up.

Poe is rolling his window back up about the time his crew opens fire on hostiles. He glances into the mirror on the left in time to see Xer's shot shatter the driver's window and hit them, before Santo's shot transformed the driver to paste, allowing the vehicle to veer off course and take a dive right off the highway to explode below. Whistling to the tune of the song, the truck continues forward, Poe shifting the gears as needed until he makes it to the final gear; he accidentally shifts down, throwing the truck forward as the engine GOVERNS WITH EXTREME DISPLEASURE the speed down. "Whoops!" They can hear the grinding of gears from the back as Poe yells over comms, <<"I CAN FIX THIS, HANG ON!">> GRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIND!

The truck behind the group is riding up close and gunmen on the back ignore the fact there's a tail gunner on Poe's truck. They fire into the trailer, trying to hit the occupants while also keeping speed. It becomes clear Poe is taking an exit ramp, they're about to arrive at their first drop off point.

Enemy riders who have managed to hang onto the sides of the truck begin to hoist themselves up. Of the seven (7) that remain, one slips off and COLLIDES with the tailing speeder behind them, showering the windshield and gunners with misty blood. Poe dies laughing.

Mister Bones has managed to shoot one of the boarders with a precise shot to the knee, removing the appendage with extreme prejudice. "THIS UNIT INFORMS THE ENEMY THAT THEY HAVE DISCARDED A MISSION CRITICAL PART!" The legless man falls off the side. "THIS UNIT OBSERVES THEY ARE EAGER TO COLLECT AND BEGIN MAINTENANCE!"

Six (6) boarders make it to the rooftop, one (1) truck, with one (1) driver and five (5) gunmen still tail Poe's speeder truck, and all hell is breaking loose.

<<"Point Aurek, this is Commander Dameron.. be advised we're coming to your POS with some tagalongs. You guys in a good spot to receive some gear and drek? Over.">>

Static returns until a voice cuts over. <<"Commander, we're pinned down by a machine gun position near our location. Could use an assist, over.">>

<<"UUUUuhhhhh ROGER.. we'll see if we can help. Be there.. in uhhh.. shortly, I think.">>

She had suspected the new arrivals were going to persist in their plan to board and conquer, but Ulani had to give them that chance to rethink their life decisions. To turn around. Choose the peaceful life of some grain farmer, maybe. Take up horticulture. Macrame. Basket weaving. Anything except barrel straight towards a turret that is light up and ready to fire.

<<"Sorry.">> Both thumbs hit the triggers simultaneously, overriding the safety in doing so and sending that heartfelt apology raining out towards the truck with a spray of red-coloured streaks of ionized atmosphere. The driver, it would seem, at least took her visual warning to heart because he immediately and expertly weaves into a serpentine pattern trying to duck the automatic fire.

<"It's quite a possibility, Ektor - scars are well received at court - mayhap thou shalt draw upon thine self a river of fawning ladies hands a flutter to fan themselves for the mysterious rogue in their midst."> frowning, and talking, despite the shooting and leaping of thuggery now going on about him.

<"Really. Just hopping about like kowakian monkey-lizards."> leaning through the opening with his carbine pointed, looking up at the sound of rooftop borders before he heaves himself halfway out, re-fixing his boots while his most recently battered backside is born upon the edge of the opening,

<"Stop chasing us!"> his first shot bouncing off of a quarter panel and singing into the distance, <"It would go much better for you to not!"> the second shot faring worse and sizzling well wide of the target now, <<"Pretty Boy, yonder ruffians and knaves have been apt study of the Five D's, it would appear!">>

Ektor leans out one firing port far enough to stick his gunhand out and get an angle on one of the boarders climbing up. Three wild shots result in one mercenary tumbling off with a scream. <<"Annnnd the mysterious rogue is me, yeah?">> He was struggling to follow Bors' speech. <<"Or was you calling me a monkey-lizard? Even odds, really.">> He raises his voice to holler at Poe, probably in vain: "DID HE SAY HE'S STUDYING LIVE 'D'?" Hey, it's loud, and he has a bad ear.

Amallia pushes up towards the back of the truck, wobbling a little bit on her journey forward, but finding her footing and letting that forward stumble carry her the rest of the way behind Ulani and Bohrs. She braces herself against the back of Ulani's turret seat and levels her blaster over the woman's shoulder, following the line she carves with that swiveling chair and watching as dust and dirt kicks up from the ground. She can't see the driver, but she squeezes a few shots off into its trajectory with her blaster. Hot red plasma screams through the air, sizzling as it goes, but fails to make meaningful damage. Burns the hell out of the front of that vehicle, though.

<<"No way he's still up,">> she starts to say over comms, just as the truck BURSTS through the dust kicked up and continues its swerving, dangerous approach. <<"Hahaha! All my days, look at him go! He's dodgin', drivin', d... ahh, I don't know the other three, do I?!">> Mollie calls out, clearly impressed. She turns to look up and over her shoulder at the fighting going on above them. The numbers look favorable for now -- even more favorable, given that she's seen the sparking ignition of a green lightsaber.

<<"We should just throw 'im at the truck.">>

It wasn't far up top but a few quick seconds in combat felt like a lifetime. As Kohnner reached the hatch a popped it open he thumped his large self up onto the roofing of the speeder. Looking around he caught the sight of the female with blue skin and purple like hair. There was a bit of recognition, perhaps seeing her previously not too long ago. If the Canine could grimace, he would. Instead he let out a tired grunt in responce and made it to his feet. Eyes jutted around, gathering the numbers before them. Blasters shot out and took care of a couple of the enemy as he pressed forward, lumbering with loud thuds against the metal roof as his Canine feet carried him with increasing momentum towards his chosen target.

One hand on the sheath and the other on the handle, Kohnner drew his sword and raised it. A loud roar came as he brought it down towards the boarder. The enemy dodged, more specifically rolled out of the way. The blade sparked against deck plating. Kohnner swung wildly towards the retreating merc, missing entirely and only catching the high pitched swoosh of metal against air. Though, the Enemy came up upon the side railing which gave the rabid Klatooinian the opportunity to stab him through the shoulder. They shouted in pain as metal pierced deeply into flesh, blood bubbling around the entry wound.

Nope, can't see too well on this side now the last truck is /behind/ their rig. And Khalim's fat head is in his way. Santos grumbles but refrains from grabbing Khalim and tossing him off the side and out of his way, tempting as that may be. Instead, he snarls and pushes past the little green guy to head aft.

Wookiee incoming, Ulani! One hand to keep hold of the rig in case Poe's driving continues to suck sour puckernuts, Krrsantan moves on back and takes up a new position next to their turret gunner.

Up comes the Kashyyyk long gun, the bronzium orb igniter energizing the blaster gas to fire with another resounding BOOM! Feet braced, Santos doesn't hesitate to fire again, a double thunder clap of two green bolts that flash into the cab of the tailing truck.

The driver is gone. No more upper body but the lower body below has a weighty foot. "That's the spirit! Keep coming!"

[Language: Shyriiwook]

'Heading up!' Tovani is shot a look as she prepares to vault herself up that ladder. It says /be careful/ in a language more expressive than verbal. This was an all-hands job, blasters and blades going where they were needed, and his attention quickly returns to those thugs clambering up the trailer's side. They make a racket as they're doing so, and Khalim can hear the scraped and clangs of boots - some of them armored - rising higher.

The mirialan darts a quick look out beyond that reinforced armor plate, helmet swiveling to and fro, and then... up. Up and /REBOUND/ as a tower of black fur shovels its way past him in the direction of the trailer's rear. Krrsantan doesn't bodily hurl the mirialan out into the air, it's true, thank goodness, but Khalim is smooshed against a jury-rigged durasteel plate as the monstrous wookiee makes his way. OOF. That's all that escapes, because as he darts a look at the departing mess of hair and muscle and more hair he realizes the lack of wisdom in saying more.

Rising higher. The mental image snaps back, and Khalim realizes those up top are in the process of being engaged by superior numbers. <"Coming up,"> he comms, and as he climbs out a quick trigger-pull sends a lance of gold into the torso of the nearest thug.

It sounds like the situation is well in hand down here and thus Rune's attention is needed on the roof. He glances up at the feet that disappear out of the portal, clearly missing the truck careening out of control behind them and speeding up like it's going to collide. Instead he crouches for a moment and leaps up and out of the hole in the ceiling, planting his feet on the roof near Khalim and appraising the situation quickly.

In a millisecond the flashing lightsaber spins around his body as Rune twists and engages the boarding party. The first swing blazes past a Thug that recoils away from the humming madness, only to backtrack into one of their fellows as the Jedi advances. Fortunately this allows the Padawan to take advantage of a little 'two for one', his next swing passing easily through the collided bodies and sending both off the trailer onto the street below. He turns and holds the verdant column aloft, eyes narrowed and preparing to engage more if they come. "I would like to say we have them on the run?" Rune says with a hopeful smile.

Tovani is just getting to her feet when the entire truck rocks and she throws out her arms to keep her balance, more hair getting caught by her mouth as she slams back dow2n against her knee and nearly starts to slide a little closer to the edge. Kohnner is busy slicing some foes as she is busy getting that jarring sensation to end in her knee cap, her teeth clicking as the hit bumps and weave about.

"Need a kriffing better driver..and shocks." She growls and is crossing the distance to engage when one goes down by blaster shot and others fall to the heat of a green sword.

She balls her hands into fists as she misses the first two strikes on the thug that comes up upon Kohnner while he's engaged. She spins about and the third lands HARD. Its not the most poised strike but it ends with him falling back...and then summarily off the truck and onto the road.

She winces at the thought of the impact. On the what?! No this is not FUN!" The roaring wind, engines, firefighting causes Tovani to misinterpret Rune's words.

Poe has exited the freeway and is buried deep in the warzone and behind enemy lines. This is the most critical point of the fighting, and where their supplies come in handy. Poe has to shift down, adjusting their path to follow the streets while a speeder that's been tailing them veers off the road and flips, exploding a second later. Bodies are being cast off the trailer from above, and those INSIDE the trailer can hear the stomping and fighting happening UP THERE, down below. One such remaining fighter attacks Kohnner and fails, thanks to Poe's driving. He dances off balance to one side, wobbling his arms for balance.

<<"Point Aurek, we're approaching from the uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh east, looks like. Arriving now!!">>

Poe pulls right through the center of a fire fight, resistance fighters are pinned down around a crumbling gated community, firing toward an adjacent street where opposing forces make use of old office buildings. Burst laser fire pours in from above, and some twenty-nine (29) infantry rush the gated position of the resistance in a final push to overwhelm the position. Poe brings the truck behind friendly lines, but still in danger.

<<"HEY TEAM, PRETTY BOY HERE.. GIVE ME TWO DRIVERS ON THE REKKING.. LOAD LIFTERS AND GET THIS GEAR OFF THE TRUCK!.. REST OF YOU, JOIN THE PERIMETER DEFENSE AND REPEL THE ASSAULT. LET'S GO!">>

Poe opens the door to the cab, slipping outside and landing. Blaster fire rains in at random, but he's casually walking over to the other commander of the position, carrying on a tactical conversation and pointing out positions. Poe doesn't seem too concerned about being shot, just about getting people where they need them.

Screeching into the dropoff point like no one but Poe could -- since he's the one driving -- Ulani takes quick stock of the situation and makes a snap decision to stay in in her seat. "Oh, hello!" She says to the unfamiliar yet enthusiastic Wookiee. "They do have an awful lot of spirit, don't they? It's a shame." Wait, she understood all the RAAAAWRs and OOOOORLs? That she did, yet she's not quite as eager to return the enemy's enthusiasm.

Thus is the dichotomy of the Alderaanian and the Wookiee.

<<"Pretty Boy, I'll provide suppressive cover. Try to keep these guys from rushing you all too quickly.">> The turret spins around to the furthest angle it can and starts spreading the ionized love across the battlefield in the enemy's direction, forcing many of them to take cover against the sudden volley of automatic blasts.

<<"You of course to be the rogue, you're of a much too grand a physicality to be as a monkey-lizard!">> Did Bors just call Ektor fat?!

Watching the driver become half the sentient they used to be and making an 'eesh' face behind his faceplate, head ducking when the whole truck goes out of control and ... well it's not good for the passengers, really. <<"Glowstick, I feel it more apt to decree we have them on the horrifying rolling crash and explode. Running seems an impossibility...">>

And then as they pass within the base perimeter, the sight of the oncoming infantry causes him to slump his shoulders, <"Did they not just see what befell those who dared before?"> shaking his head and raising his external volume whilst clambering out the window, <"KNAVES! DID THEE NOT SEE AS BEFEL THOSE WHO DARED BEFORE!?">

Looking up and back into the truck, <"Ektor! I think they are remiss in that they do not acknowledge as what befell that who came before!"> then firing at one of those onrushing fiends, blasting the sot backwards out of their boots and beneath the second shot that sends Bors tumbling from where he sits to land on his back in the dirt, legs up and heels resting against the trailer.

<"A clever ploy, that being mine! Truly!"> bite-tabbing his mic offline, "Ugh... my back."

Ektor piles out of the trailer as the speeder rattle-lurches to a stop, he hollers back to Bors, as he sprint-limps for the loadlifter exoskeleton: "YEAH, THEY SURE MISS WHAT BE FALLIN FOR, AND DREK. YEAH?" Idly, as he begins the unloading, Ektor wonders of he can spare a hand to shoot while driving.

Amallia Madine wobbles forward and backward again when she the truck and trailer come to that sudden stop. She turns towards the loaders to climb within, but when her path is blocked, quickly descends the ramp of the loader and points her blaster pistol out towards those charging. She doesn't look where she's shooting, in typical Amallia fashion. She just squeezes the trigger in the general direction of those sith-hired mercenaries while walking around towards where the loaders have begun to do the work.

"Oi!" she yells, slapping the side of Ektor's loader. "Swap with me, mate. I'll offload the shavit, you kill these sithspit," she says.

There is a glance towards Tovani as Kohnner pulls his blade from the collapsing body of his enemy. He stares are her a moment with intense and seasoned blue eyes, searching a moment. "Your form is impressive." Said in a deep and low growl as would be expected from a Canine like himself. He glances towards the Jedi who arrives and dispatches two of the boarders. There is a moment, as the speeder sways along the path where the Klatooinian seems to recognize Rune. A moment of dysphoria as eyes gloss over and then a shake of the head. His words stutter as they find their ground, "I wouldn't be so naive, Jeedai.." In that time a blaster bolt zips past him, causing him not to jar away but to turn towards the direction it came from. He twirls his blade around and then whips it to the lower guard at his side, letting the blood fly from the edge and onto the deck plating. He stares at the last one on the roof, saying to Rune; "Perhaps you best convince that one to give up" He says to Rune before turning away.

As they come upon the checkpoint, the comm chatter is heard and the fight from the roof can likely be seen. "As I said..." His blade points towards the on going assault. He looks to Tovani and up nods his head towards the battle before moving to disembark the speeder and head into the protracted combat.

He roars as he runs into the offensive line, his sword crashing down onto one of the enemy and burying deep into their shoulder and neck area. He attempts two more swings but the Mercenary is reeling away, engaged in full flight mode away from the large Canine. He doesn't stick around to see the fate of the one enemy left up top.

Now the rig Poe's driving heads right into a battle zone and things are suddenly heating up, Krrsantan lowers his long gun and shoulders the slings the rifle over his shoulder. He's reaching back to pull a grenade when he hears Ulani talking to himself as if she understood what he'd yelled at the truck. She gets a toothy grin with sharp teeth.

Who knows? Maybe Santos has a new friend! But first? Grenade.

No warning people that a frag is out. The big Wookiee eyes the attackers rushing the reistance fighters and pin points their thickest point. The grenade is armed, cooked off a couple of seconds, and then thrown with a powerful arm - and excellent accuracy. It arcs through the air and lands at the feet of the on rushing attackers.

Suddenly a flash and uprushing dust and debris with a CRACK! Five bodies are thrust up into the air or thrown aside with force - some body parts as well, which inevitably rain back down to earth.

Santos looks pleased with himself as he leaps off of the back of the rig, hairy feet to hit the ground.

<"You sure you need blaster lessons?"> Khalim grins behind the opacity of his visor, as he witnesses Tovani's fisticuff blur and the pummeling of that final topside thug. Between that and Kohnner's slicing and dicing of a thug a few steps away it's become something of a spectacle. "Worth the price of admission," he says, purely to himself. The mirialan is on his knees, just beyond the hatch leading below, pistol still out. It's a necessary position thanks to the hazard that is Poe's attempt to bring the truck and trailer combo to a screeching halt.

That last thug up top is still recovering, briefly driven away from his cornering by Tovi and Rune. It lends a suddenly very pretty picture, a clear shot and an opportunity to free the others to shift to new tasks. Khalim shifts in place, the trailer having heaved to a stop, and holds his heavy pistol forward. His target is lined up, taking perhaps an extra half-moment to stabilize his sight picture, before a golden bolt spears the thug, sending him toppling over the trailer's side.

But that was not the end of this situation, simply the closing of its first half. A mob surges against friendly lines just beyond the truck and a quick shot is unleashed within. It misses, delivering a divot to earth and a small fountain of dirt but nothing else.

Rune's eyebrow lifts at Tovani's words, the engine noise and the rush of air making it equally difficult to hear what she says in kind. "Hang on a moment, on the Hutt there are guns?" There's no time to really suss out what she means when the vehicle takes a sharp turn to veer toward their first objective. The Padawan lowers to the roof as Khalim ceases the final foe's freeloading, his blaster barking out to make short work of the off-balance target. "Apparently that was not necessary, Khalim convinced him to lay down his arms in a completely different fashion." the Force user remarks in a reply to Kohnner.

When Bors' voice comes over the comms Rune can't help but chuckle and nod, descending to the pavement to engage the rest of those pressing the attack. "You are correct, a better turn of the phrase as usual, Bors." and then Rune is among the enemy, fearlessly spinning the emerald blade as he attempts to thin the ranks that harry the facility.

It seems the baddies have gotten a little wary of the spinning light of death, the first slash swinging wide of the Thugs before the second takes the legs from beneath one. Finally he turns and thrusts, narrowly missing the closest aggressor as he darts just out of reach. "It would make this much easier if there was less dodging." Rune remarks fairly seriously.

So much noise and Bors is heard as well from within the truck at first and then his presence just continues outside and Tovi manages to keep her feet as they make that sudden stop. Kohnner is given a grin and a glance to his sword. "Good job," she says and is turning about, looking to the other three atop the truck. "I can't THROW my punch across the distance!" But the call to action is there, the Wroonian in all her blue skinned glory catches her breath and nods. "Thats my cue....I am not sure what you said!" She declares at Rune but is quickly grabbing at Khalim's arm and with his help is lowering down to the ground from the side of the truck with the last few feet causing her to lower to take the landing.

Rising up she is booking it for the back, glancing at Ulani as she boards, giving her a wave before she is climbing into the other suit. Strapping in she feels it rumble to life with her insistent hand. "Come on, come on, come on," she says to the non-verbal piece of equipment.

Easing off after Ektor, she grasps at the first crates, managing to get one and artfully tetrising another top with her second loader arm. She is clumping her way to the side, trying to keep herself and the supplies out of the direct line of fire. They are set down with a thump and loud sound as they scrape against each other before she is turning the suit back around.

The assault is absolutely insane. Resistance warfighters are moving at all angles doing their best to provide covering fire, but many get shot. Poe's crew stay defiant, defending their vehicle despite the onslaught, and they do a damned good job causing a dent in their numbers. Turret fire from Ulani goes a long way, keeping them pinned for a good bit of their advance, which slows them down considerably. A grenade goes off, as well, toppling the enemy burst-laser nest.

Poe joins Captain Madine, stepping by her casually and drawing fire in the effort. "Pardon me..." He punctuates this with a pair of blaster shots, LOUD as is custom with the DL-44 series. "Get shot at often?" He asks Madine, a crooked handsome grin on his face.

Seven crates remain on the truck, and the weapons and ammo are being divvied out quickly, bolstering the Resistance capabilities to fight (they will attack this round).

It's a sheet of blaster fire from both directions. A warzone opening up across the fields and jungles of Thyferra. Steeling herself from the brunt of the violence, Ulani compartmenalizes it all to be sorted later over a hand-shaking cup of tea and a view of a sunset. For now, though, her eyes blue as Kuat cornflowers dart this way and that, looking for openings in the enemy's defenses that need to be hammered.

Her search is interrupted as a concussive force hits her hard in the sternum, slamming her against the back of the turret's chair; her mic picking up the distinctive <<"Hnnph!">> of the blow. She looks down, seeing the hole burned into her armour; flickers of red-hot cinder glowing around the edges. Quickly, she pats them out the best she can with a gloved hand, neverminding the iron-tasting wheeze in her throat.

<<"I'm... on it.">> She confirms to her ragtag team. The turret, having ceased firing the moment she was hit, resumes its onslaught; pocking the ground in burst of dirt and pebbles and bouncing off the various modes of cover the opposing forces have taken.

<"Oh!"> blasterfire headed his way, Bors does the best he can do from his position, laid out by the truck. Legs flung and rolling with clods of dirt being thrust into earthen geysers behind him. <"Bad form! Bad! Form!"> scrabbling beneath the trailer itself, grunting at the sensation of the stabilizer repulsors pushing on the Alderaanian whilst he continues to roll until he has made it to the other side,

<"I'm getting too old for this."> rising up and leaning out to sight on the enemy that continues to pursue them, firing wildly into their midst will little real affect, slapping the side of his helmet - making his HUD frazzle out and back in, <"Blast it all."> shaking his head and sighting again.

<"I'm getting Corellia flashbacks here, truth be told."> swapping to comms <<"Mr. Bones! You should unleash hell with maximum... ahhh... Killocity?">> he never knows how the damned robot works.

Ektor gets the first crate unloaded when some tattooed blonde wants to swap. "Arright, this works too honest for me anyhow, yeah?" The operater harness is popped open, the Tionese pirate (with several much lower quality tattoos indicative of much more dubious judgement) pulls his blaster and makes a jaunty sweep of one arm, "All yours." He activates the personal shield and steps up next to Poe to open fire. "Just like old times, yeah?"

Mollie laughs and grabs Ektor's hand when he steps out of the loader. It's both to help him down and to help her up, and she slides her butt into place within 'cockpit' as it slides into place. "Ahhh, y'kept it warm for me," she chirps out, and arches her back up halfway with a little wrinkle of her nose. "And sweaty."

Amallia swivels in that loader to pick up the first crate from the trailer, guiding it into place where the rest of the cargo is to be offloaded. She returns to fetch another, but the shape is uneven. The little claw graspers gets one side, but she struggles to find a proper placeholder and leverage for the second. After a moment or two more of struggling, she slides the mechanical arm beneath a spot that, when lifted, seems to catch the way she wants to.

<<"Halfway there!">> she says, hoisting the fifth crate up and into her loader's grasp.

Something is mentioned about Corellia from Bors, whether heard over the comms or via Kohnner's sensitive Canine ears... is causes him to pause a moment. The world around him backs away and he dissociates from himself. There's a flash of something in his memory, from in the past... but it's not him. And then there is a voice that's not his, 'Pay attention.' It whispers just before a blaster zaps across his upper shoulder barely missing, bringing the Klatoonian back to reality. He twists and rolls, reorienting himself finally, and pressing forwards. There is an injured one before him whom he slices the throat of. He trudges forwards through the heat and humidity of the swampy jungle he isn't at all used to. Another target, this one he swings down on with his sharp blade, carving in two, bifurcating along shoulder to opposite hip. Death from instant shock was likely the culprit. A third he runs through the chest, pressing them back as he runs them through. They scream in agony as he does so. He roars, staring down his pray.

There is chaos. Ulani's firing away with the turret to lay suppression fire like a pro! She gets hit and Santos hesitates but she starts up firing again. The huge Wookiee looks for more targets of opportunity that might meet with a frag.

Oooh, yes! Krrsantan sees some of the Sith Empire attackers using cover to shoot from. The Wook moves closer to get a better angle and then hefts another grenade. Again, no warning shout - nothing! It arcs up through the air and lands in among them behind their cover. Special delivery!

KABOOM!!! Debris rains down and there are two less shooters. Santos bares his teeth in a grin and smacks his bronzium spiked knuckles together with an electric crackle.

So far Poe's 'buddy' seems to be enjoying his work. Little Kohn gets a look for all that roaring.

For a few long moments Khalim is sprawled atop the trailer, assisting Tovani's clamber down its side. As her boots finally meet ground, he looks down, hand still outstretched but no longer holding anything. <"Be careful,"> he says, rather than emotes this time. As she dashes off towards one of the waiting power-loaders, the mirialan shifts back in the direction of that mass of Sith-aligned soldiery pressing resistance lines.

Khalim finds himself sprawled in the prone, just below the turret that keeps spitting a torrent of fire into that - fortunately reducing - sea of hostiles. It's all he can do, at this point, to simply try and further thin the herd. That chonky yet surprisingly sleek heavy pistol of his barks bright gold, one bolt felling a heavy rifle toting mercenary, the other harmless splashing against more distant duracrete.

He had been paying too much attention to what was in front of him and not so much to the sides. A blaster bolt finds its way past his defenses, such defense.... standing there with a glowing blade that might as well scream 'please shoot at me', and sears his leg. A wince flashes across Rune's face and he turns in the direction of the attack. "Who did that?" He asks, the verdant cylinder being swung to face them.

Regardless of the foe that presses forward, he maintains his defensive line, working on thinning the forces around the loaders and protecting them as they offload the cargo. In service of this he steps forward and menaces the lot nearby, his lightsaber swung wildly in efforts to push them back. One thug gets a little too close and provides little resistance as the glowing blade passes through his form, dropping the unlucky fellow just a few feet beyond where he started the charge.

"Best stay back!" Rune claims as he lifts the blade in defense, ready to parry or send a gift from the masses back to their lot if needed.

Trundle. Trundle. The suit moves with her, rocking back and forth with every step and then begins to even out when she finds a better pace to set herself at. Coming back around to watch as Amalia is dealing with the cargo, she waits the second it takes for her to begin her leg back. <"We got this...keep moving, don't get shot...easier said than done."

Big kriffing targets with all the supplies the resistance needs.

One crate is loaded into the arm and pressed agianst the side of truck's interior as she strains the motors on the lifter, hearing the gears screech and complain as she manages to lift another crate so that they are poised together.

She heads down the ramp and back towards the drop area. "This isn't heavy...for me but..." she is starting to sweat, droplets catching at her brow before trickling down her nose. Stress is a multi-faceted state of being.

The last of the crates number four in total, and the waning attack against the Resistance has stopped being an assault, and is simply a bunch of men pinned down by constant turret fire (thanks Ulani). This has allowed the Resistance to join and bolster the ranks of Poe's group, helping the team pick off people left and right as they learn that being pinned is not a good place to be.

"Yeah," Poe comments to Xer, smirking, "Just like old times.--" He rises up and mantles his cover, moving after Santo to help cover the massive Wookiee. "LET'S GO.. PUSH THEM OUT AND FINISH THEM OFF!"

Nearby, Mister Bones engages in close quarters, casually aiming its rifle to blast off the leg of a lunging enemy. "ORGANICS FIND IT DIFFICULT TO FUNCTION WITH MISSING PARTS!" It declares, stepping over the screaming man, simultaneously avoiding three blasts! "MORE ORGANICS REQUIRE TERMINATION, JOIN PRETTY GIRL! (He means Poe)."

The Resistance find it in them to charge, and emerge from cover to finish off the attack. Twelve (12) Mercs remains.

She can feel it; that unmistakable surge of energy building. Of proverbial tides beginning to turn. To the rallying call of Commander Dameron and the cavalry that has arrived in the nick of time to help them, the Thyferran Resistance muster, call, and charge.

This boost of energy is not lost on Ulani, either. Though not a seasoned veteran like her squadmates and these other fighters on the field, she's no stranger now to the violent ebbs and flows of battle. Drawing in a breath, the young woman gains a bit of tunnel vision and hammers her turret fire into where she knows what remains of the opposition is holed up.

A blaster bolt singing past his head, Bors cant help but follow in the wake of the shot, <"Knew I shouldn't have stopped singing."> his rhythm is off. Leaning out his first shot turns one of the attackers with the bolt burning into armor plating on their shoulder to a triumphant "Ha-HA!" of the Lord Thul that comes far too soon when another shot aimed for him splashes against his chest plate, melting plastoid and overloading reinforcements beneath.

Knocked upon his backside, the only option quick to mind is to fall to his side with a grunt and the heavy 'thunk' of his helmet hitting ground and crossing his eyes for a breath.

<"Ow..."> blaster lifted, sighting by his HUD feed to the monocle that is still, expertly, pinched before his eye Bors allows a moment to draw a bead on the figure he'd struck before, kicking their head backwards with a plasma bolt, grimacing with the way they fall like a marionette with strings cut.

<"Come to Thyferra they said. It'd be like the Black Squadron days."> looking in Poe's direction, <"Well it CERTAINLY FEELS LIKE THE BLACK SQUADRON DAYS!"> ugh... at least it hasn't hit the leg.

"HEY, IT AIN'T MY FAULT -" Ektor starts to holler back at Bors, before realizing the A-wing jockey was complaining to Poe, next to Ektor. "Oh- you was yelling at him? ..I thought- sorry, force of habit. Go ahead." Blam blam blam.

<<"Keep it up, keep it up,">> Mollie says to Tovani over comms, hearing the other woman's labored breathing coming through her own earpiece. She's beginning to sweat too, the exertion of steering the loader beginning to take its toll, as well as the breakneck pace at which the two continue to operate. That crate is unloaded, and then another is loaded on. She continues to move, swerving and pivoting and -stalking- towards the crates where resistance soldiers begin to pour out. A little laugh bubbles out of her lips as she sees them, sweat dripping from her face as they level their blasters and start to fire.

Of course, she can't see that most of them miss. But there's something to be said about suppressive fire. The turret Ulani pilots continues to lay down an impressive suppression as well, and Mollie turns back around just in time to see the surge of resistance fighters pressing into the mercenaries that have begun to crack.

"Kill those karking sithspit!" she yells out, making for another crate of weapons or supplies urgently needed by some of the very people that have just joined the fight. "Let's go, Madine. Just a few more. Just a few more," she says. Her eyes turn to Rune as the Jedi steps in front of her and is rewarded with a blaster bolt to his chest for his heroism.

"Just a few more... just a few more."

Santo's gets a side eye back as Kohnner stands before the bodies he's sent to the afterlife. There are no words that come from the Klatooinian, only a low canine growl, some type of brotherly animalistic understanding before his eyes face forwards once again. He flicks his blade and turns towards where he can still hear movement and gunfire ahead of the assault lines in the dense jungle. As he comes upon the first entrenched unit, covering from the heavy fire of the turret, Kohnner jumps down into the divot and slices some dirt as those there back away surprised by the 'large' (compared to most others) Canine. A team of two in what could only be described as a fox hole shoot at the beast, missing in their panic.

Kohnner is quick to correct himself, slicing one and then the other across the chest and opening their cavities and organs to the elements only to die of shock and blood loss later. He trudges onward.

With the Resistance rallying to attack, and Ulani doing a bang up job of laying down turret fire, and even Pretty Boy moving up to watch his six, Santos stops throwing grenades and wades in with his hairy fists! Bronzium spikes fused to the bones of his knukcles crackle with electricity as he starts laying into the Sith Empire fighters, doing what the big black Wookiee does best!

SMASHING! Skulls are like crushed melons when Santos slugs first one poor bastard, and then turns to slam another one. Down they go, one after another. They didn't have a chance.

Makes you feel kind of bad for 'm.

Krrsantan bares his teeth ferally, dark eyes alight as he wrecks destruction. You surely aren't a nice guy if you enjoy killing so much.

That sense that the tide is turning settles upon Khalim as well, and that sense very quickly becomes reality as Sith numbers continue to be whittled down. Little by little becomes swath by swath. That turret's torrent of charged-particle death is accompanied by the whirling of blades and the pot-shots taken by ones like that mirialan, still sprawled in the prone atop the trailer.

'Push them out and finish them off' had been the rallying call, and Poe's words energize Khalim anew. His legs swing around, in a dangle over the trailer's side and he slips down. Lowering himself over the edge, the mirialan quickly finds himself in a dead hang and then... lets go. Feet meet ground in a rush, though Khalim remains stabilized by his armored back as it maintains contact with the trailer's flank.

He's now at ground level, pistol again held to fore as he stalks forward. <"You doing alright, Samar'ii?"> A quick side-long glance is sent in the direction of the power-loaders making quick work of those crates.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rune sees the red of a blaster shot coming, the angle of attack seeming to be heading for Mollie. As quick as he can the lightsaber wielder steps in front of the attack, swinging at it with his blade. Unfortunately the bolt finds its way to Rune's person, bypassing the defense to hit him in the chest. However, fortunately enough, the plasma itself did little more damage than singeing his vest. The Jedi spins to position the lightsaber between himself and where these shifts seem to be coming from, ready as he ever will be for the next.

What with all the people having all the blasters, it's difficult to determine who was the culprit of the attack... not that it matters, they're all trying to attack someone else regardless. With that in mind the Ysannan Padawan shifts into battle once more, the green glow dancing between the foes and diving among their persons.

One in the midst feels the bite of his blade, the fellow tossing up a bisected blaster before crumbling to the ground. The rest shy back and away from the whirling dervish of light, his saber blade passing harmlessly by as they shift out of the way.

With the two loaders working simultaneously the crates are disappearing more quickly. <<"I need a nice long spa day after this, pretty sure there is sweat places I don't care...to....*GRUNT* mention.">> She heaves out another breath as she sets one crate down and then the next, the weight of the burden gone her loader is moving with a little more ease after the last two crates are set down, securing their drop point is done by unloading but also the skill of those keepign the sith at bay.

<<"Done. Crates unloaded. Lets get back aboard">> This said to Mollie as she is turning back around, bringing up the rear of this two lift loader foray into military service. <<"This is a first for me...not used to live war zones.">> She proclaims and directs their lifter back into the truck, guiding the shell of metal and gears into place, the right arm of it feeling a little less responsive after giving it what for.

The call from a familiar voice as she is unstrapping herself, feeling the heat rising off her body and the smell that likely comes with it. <"All is well, Samar'i. I am perfectly fine...I hope you can say the same."> Can he? No. Poor Khalim.

She lands down on the inside of the truck with a thunk, giving a shake of her arms.

Poe holds the assault back as the Resistance gives chase, gunning down the rest in due haste. Afterward, there's a loud cheer, and Poe smirks as he turns in place to look. A small victory in a suicide mission, and a valuable checkpoint now has supplies. A mechanic from the friendly position comes out yelling, "COMMANDER.. COMMANDER DAMERON!"

After reaching Poe, they take a moment to collect their thoughts and find their breath. "Sir, we have a tank.. and Point Besh is in need of support. The route between the checkpoint is littered with infantry and light armor. Do you.. do you think you can get that tank out there to help them? Point Besh has a flight line.. with fighters.. maybe you can use those to help more?"

Poe rubs his bearded jaw in thought, wincing a bit. "A tank you say?"

"WHO IS UP FOR ANOTHER MISSION?!" Poe's answer, as he holsters his blaster and walks toward the garage, and a big rekking tank.

The enemy routed and Ulani immediately stops firing. Her barrel is hot and so is the bruise forming on her chest under damaged armour. Her hands release the handles, the safety clicks back on immediately. She doesn't get out of her seat. Instead, she kind of slouches there trying not to move too much and think through the fog of a sweaty helmet.

<<"Giving you another tank? I think that's how we met, Pretty Boy.">> It isn't, but it's pretty damn close. <<"I'm in. You running gun again, Tion? I can target better than Corellia. Buh-Bors, you still with us?">> A pause. <<"I think I need a medic.">>

"Techie, are you- drek, I didn't turn the comm on-" Ektor mutters a d corrects the oversight. <<Techie are you really asking ME if I wanna blow drek up? Come on, you're supposed to be the smart one, yeah?>> The crooked grin is audible in his voice as the pirate lazily checks the charges left in his gun, decides he can squeeze another shootout in before reloading and pulls out another bottle. "Drek. Empty."

The work done and the Sith Mercenaries routed, Mollie steers that loader up onto the trailer and pushes up the brace that secures her in place. She drops onto her feet, tanktop sticking to her chest as she attempts to peel it off her belly. Panting for breath, she laughs a little in Tovani's direction and shakes her head. "Thyferran heat. I swear it's gonna kill me some day," she says, and flops backwards onto her butt. She's not there to see the or hear the conversation between Poe and the mechanic. All she can hear is the end result, which is Commander Dameron yelling out about another mission.

"Rekking..." Mollie says, and pushes herself up onto her feet. She descends the ramp to join the others while tucking away her blaster pistol back into the holster on her right thigh.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rune sees the red of a blaster shot coming, the angle of attack seeming to be heading for Mollie. As quick as he can the lightsaber wielder steps in front of the attack, swinging at it with his blade. Unfortunately the bolt finds its way to Rune's person, bypassing the defense to hit him in the chest. However, fortunately enough, the plasma itself did little more damage than singeing his vest. The Jedi spins to position the lightsaber between himself and where these shots seem to be coming from, ready as he ever will be for the next.

What with all the people having all the blasters, it's difficult to determine who was the culprit of the attack... not that it matters, they're all trying to attack someone else regardless. With that in mind the Ysannan Padawan shifts into battle once more, the green glow dancing between the foes and diving among their persons.

One in the midst feels the bite of his blade, the fellow tossing up a bisected blaster before crumbling to the ground. The rest shy back and away from the whirling dervish of light, his saber blade passing harmlessly by as they shift out of the way.