OPEN SIGNUPS The Glorious Conquest - Mandalorian Crusade (Star Wars Rp)

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Soverign

Lore Fanatic
#1
Warmth. All she could feel was warmth. In her private chamber Ellsha laid back on her throne like seat having been in her own company for near an entire day. Not having spoken to her subordinates or issued commands. Standing she lifted her arms and her armor encased her once more. With a breath Ellsha walked to the door after adorning her cloak covered in black ash from many battles won and red material on the inside that was warn from consistent use. As the door slid open the two guards immediately stepping aside. Her own gaze enough to make them lower their heads, like wolves who dare not look their alpha in the eye.

Her talon like feet clacked on the floor, it was the place of their first conquest. As she walked down the halls she remembered that day even though it was only the first in her clans near three dozen conflicts so far. It was an outpost that was seized by the imperial remnants. She cared not for the empire, their order and peaceful civilians made it weak. If it were to follow those like her clan their armies would be endless. But weakness was a virus, an infection that was in every politician, every coward, every Jedi and Sith alike. And like all viruses, it was cleansed for it's failings. Like the soldiers, who held this station. Their forces could not strand. They could kneel, but they did not. The only respectable thing they did in their short lives.

As Ellsha walked to a wide window peering over the land below she watched the few hundred of her clan fortifying the location, training, and getting ready. Though her people the Mandalorians never were one for having a home base, but it was as good as any. This base was placed in a rather exemplary location for farms, and for war. How could she say no? The Spire itself as it was called was in a perfect location, set upon a break in a mountain range it lead down into a plateau hundreds of meters on either side. However the main area was to the south, it was protected by the mountain range and circled by it. Natural barriers, any ships who want in need to risk dying to get close. The spire also held a rather impressive vault section, Hanger, and ground Armor below it. Having caved areas that they can exit and fight from. It pleased her, almost like this place was to good for the imperials. No not almost, it was.

Placing a hand over the console Ellsha let the window slide from the middle and let the rush of air make her cloak flap from the entering breeze. She took a step and looking down she decided she wanted down there. Letting go the Mandalore of clan Mansil fell from the top of the spire it being well over a mile up.

-- On the ground --

Clan members were moving as ordered though it was the same orders for several days. No killing, no glory to be had yet. However as a group were meeting at the entrance to the spire which held a rather large entrance to a vehicle depo there was a subtle whistling of sorts. Most paid attention to their commanding officer, the right hand of Ellsha. But as it got louder they all took a step as the object crashed behind their commander. Standing did Ellsha open her yellow eyes and stepped forward leaving the small crater and cracked stone. Looking at the commander she knew as Kell she stepped closer and placed her clawed hands together and placed them against the small of her back. "Tell me Kel......" She said in her usual cold and death toned voice "Are you confident in this group you have selected?" She circled the group of around six warriors that Kel her right hand man had been tasked with choosing. Many missions need an elite of the elite, and she had asked him to choose those soldiers. Looking them over she could have been seen as a predator looking over corralled prey, but she and they knew better. They were the wolves, their enemies the sheep. Her talons clacked and she seemed to move with the patience and grace that time couldn't keep up with. Moving slowly and her eyes seeming to look into the souls of those before her.
 

Ur Degaton

Ashes To Ashes
#2
Mal'Sektor had seen a lot of strange and unusual things during his numerous years taking jobs and contracts from across the galaxy. But what he was seeing in front of him took the cake as the single most bizarre sense of deja'vu he has ever had. And it wasn't the feeling of being kidnapped that he was accustomed to when they blindfolded him and brought him to this spire on god knows what part of the galaxy. No, it was the tall woman with talons and lightsabers approaching them that really gave him nostalgia.

He didn't know how his former employer general Grevious would've felt if he was here to see this womans' attire, demeanor, and overall intimidating air that took slight inspiration from the now deceased Kaleesh warrior. But Mal knew he'd probably be a little flattered, well, as flattered a bloodthirst Jedi hunting cyborg could possibly be. He wasn't intimidated by a lot of things in the galaxy, but he felt a little cautious of the individual approaching, mostly because of the lightsabers. Mal had learned to always be wary around those carrying lightsabers, no matter their appearance

The bounty hunter stands up a little straighter as she glared at them, her gaze never faltering, like a predator eyeing its prey. He had seen that look before, the look of someone with ambition, power, but also cruelty. It was definitely the eyes of someone with training, but by whom he did not know. The unpleasant clacking of her talons against the floor gets louder and louder until she stopped only a few meters away from the group.

He watched as she looked like she was about to say something, but before she could speak someone wearing customized Mandalorian Deatwatch armor landed behind her. He couldn't quite hear what she said when she turned around and spoke to the orange painted individual, but judging by her tone, it was some form of greeting.
 

Hearthridge

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#3

Mandalorian | Advisor | Survivor

The Post Character Sheet Previous Post


  • Blaster bolts sailed over his head, striking the dirt at his back and exploding with a sizzle of the rapid evaporation of the moisture in the soil, causing clods of muck to patter on his back. His focus was on the advancing Storm Troopers ahead of him and his grip tightened on his grip. In his foxhole, Kelborn waited with abated breath for his time to strike. He an the other resistance members were sorely out-manned and out-gunned, but this was his planet, not theirs. Mandalore belonged to the Mandalorians, and their iron was their birthright. In his right ear, he heard three chirps. That was the cue.

    He and the two dozen other in his force charged up over the hill, vocal modulators set to maximum, as they all let out a thunderous battle cry. Weapons raised and triggers pulled, blaster bolts and missiles sailed over into the oncoming Storm Troopers. The three second charge to the next line lasted hours; or so it seemed, until the blaster bolt struck him and his vision went white.


    He awoke with a start this morning, a good hour before his scheduled time to get up and start his morning training and he couldn't help but instinctively rub at the scar on his left shoulder. The trophy of years past and it was one of the same dreams that haunted him to this day. He shook himself from the cold sweat of the battle-laden dreamscape and made his way to the refresher. He had time to burn, so he spent a full five minutes longer than he normally would have to get cleaned up and put his face together. Looking in the mirror, he couldn't help but see the faces of his dead companions and friends flash across the reflection with every blink. They were the reminder of what was lost, and the fuel to the fire to reclaim what was theirs.

    Kelborn was the first to arrive at the parade grounds for the morning inspection, having spent the remainder of his morning time performing his exercises and practicing his martial arts, focusing today on the Echani fighting style with with a force pike and in full bucket. As the others started to filter in, some earlier than others to get in some exercise, he made his way to the forefront and took position with feet shoulder's length apart and visor front and center, hands clasped behind his back. Eventually, the force had assembled, his 'elite of the elite,' his pack of wolves - and just in time for the inspection.

    As his Mand'alor made her approach, he turned about face and slapped his right hand over his left breast with fist clenched in salute, the sound of the Beskar striking itself making a resounding report. He held it until she had reached speaking distance and spoken to him before dropping his salute and turning back to face the assembled.

    "I am confident in their ability to fight on their own. Am I confident they can fight as a unit? That remains to be tested. Many of these veterans are lone wolves; but I aim to turn them into a pack"

    His response was of a neutral tone as his visor stared blankly at the elite force. Under the guise of the bucket, he was checking each member's background once more and reviewing their combat skills and accolades - even the things that were hidden in the little black books. Several members have very unique backgrounds, like Mal'Sektor's. He found it intriguing that he would find him working here after working for the Sep's during the reign of Dooku and Grievous. Whether it was for the money or to get a taste of the past once more, he did not know yet. Everyone had their reasons for being here, some transparent and some veiled.

    With a snap and a hiss, he twisted the helmet free from its place on the suit and tucked it under his arm, panning his gaze over the assembled and addressed them as a whole while Ellsha continued her inspection.

    "That is what I am here to do for you. You will learn to live together, eat together, shit together. Forget whatever training you had while bunking with those nerf herders of your past. As Mando'a, you become family - and you're not yet Mando'a. So, saddle up kids. The show will be starting soon and I can't have you forget your diapers and calling home to your mommies."

    Regarding Ellsha once more, "The kids are yours, Mand'alor."



  • Name: Kelborn Starkiller
    Race: Mandalorian
    Gender: Male
    -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
    Age: Fifty-Five
    Height: Six-Foot Five (1.95m)
    Weight: Two-Hundred Eighty Pounds (127kg/20stone)
    Hair: Dark Blonde
    Eyes: Azure Blue
    Skin: Fair and tanned

    Job Information Psych-Eval Other Info


    • Position: Right Hand / Advisor
      Strengths: Mandalorian Combat Training, Guerrilla tactics, Piloting Mandalorian Ship-Types
      Neutral: N / A
      Weaknesses and Flaws: Interpersonal Skills, Piloting everything else, Demolitions

    • Kelborn lives a very spartan life and his personality reflects this. He is short and to the point, seeking to complete the objective without much in the way of variety. His interpersonal skills are lacking, having few friends and treating nearly everyone as nothing more than a soldier. Those few who do manage to get past his Beskar note that he has a penchant for reading and takes pride in his crops during the farming season. Those who manage to get on his bad side find that Kelborn is particularly talented in prolonging the pain and suffering of his enemies, and often takes some form of pleasure from it.

    • Equipment: Bendak Starkiller's Baskar'gam (retrofitted), Bendak Starkiller's Mando'ade Heavy Blaster (retrofitted), One Beskad, One Pair of Mando'ade Crush Gauntlets, Twin Kal, Mandalorian Assault Rifle, Two Thermal Detonators, Four Fragmentation Grenades, Four Cryoban Grenades, Four Concussion Grenades, One Light Concussion Missile Launcher w/ Eight Missiles, One Basilisk War Droid (Standard Variant)
      Wealth and Resources: Stock investments in Sienar Fleet Systems, Stock investments in MandoMotors, Several 'offshore' savings accounts under different names, Multiple identifications, One Shaadlar-type Troopship


  • N / A
 

Soverign

Lore Fanatic
#4
Ellsha stood there as Kel spoke and gave them a brief review of their training. And she did agree with it, they would need to be family. To work so well together that words need not be spoke when in the hat of battle. But that is a level of trust she only has given to one. Moving her eyes to Kel she watched him as he spoke and made sure to make it look like a superior watching a subordinate. Though there were subtle ques she gave off showing some for of being impressed.

When she was given the group's full attention she only kept eye contact with Kel for near a second then looked at the set of warriors. Pulling a hand away she held in her open hand a lightsaber resting in her palm "This i am sure many of you know. The blade of jedi and sith alike. But today, today it is your mission" Activating the blade she drew a small X on the ground. Placing the blade on her hip once again she looked at them her eyes showing near amusement "You must seize the blade and place it on the x" She waited and saw they hesitated not knowing what exactly to do. To attack their leader? Her gaze turned from slight amusement to a hardened irritation "I said......SEIZE IT!" After barking her order one of them rushed forward.

He was average in height but was adept in close combat. He swung a hook coming from his right. Ducking Ellsha moved like she was simple playing. He threw a flurry of punches even using his pack to elevate himself for downward punches. After dodging her metal knee came up as he fell down hit his stomach knocking the attack and assailant to a stop. As he was on his hands and knees she kicked him making him roll and stop at his pack mates feet.

Ellsha shook her head in disappointment, not at the warrior she had beaten. But with the others "Did you not listen? You are to learn and work as a team. To fight and die together. So why when one started did none of you engage? Afraid to hurt me? Kel is the only one in this clan to ever do so in combat. And he says he is confident in you. Now, for the last time. Seize.The.Blade"

This time she was impressed. After helping their brother up they surrounded her, a good tactic. Multiple attackers, multiple directions. As they converged they attacked in threes. The first three went for frontal attack. She parried their strikes and took a few hits herself. Using her clawed foot in unison with a fist she stood on one foot and elongated herself horizontally kicking and punching at once. Making two of the three go tumbling she punched the warriors leg and made him fall to a knee. At that moment she gripped his head with her clawed feet and threw him into one of the two she had just dealt with.

The next three were ready and she looked them over. Their stances were flawless, focused and the more experienced generally. She then looked at Kel "Care to join and show them a true leader in combat?" She knew his style but the chance of battling him with the team was something she wanted. It was like a game to her, maybe just her. But the rush of a fight she knew like all those in her clan was something that should always be saught after.
 

Ur Degaton

Ashes To Ashes
#5
He watched his squad mates be devastasted by the leader's attacks. Being throw back into the circle left and right, but they were trying to bum rush her, such tactics wouldn't work against a lightsaber user. Helping one of them up he whispers into his ear."We must confuse her, that way her attacks won't be as coordinated and she'll slip up, that's when we attack." The squadmate nods before whispering the same sentence to the squadmate next to him, who proceeds to say the same thing to the others. After a few moments the entire squad knew what to do as they circled her in a clockwise rotation, some feigning punches and others doing mock charges.

Mal watched the leader as she shifted her eyes back in forth, making sure no one attacks out of her vision. This was his moment to strike.
Charging towards her, he threw a punch similar to the way the rest of the group did. But as she tried the same counter as last time, he pulled the punch back, having faked it, before sliding under her legs and reaching for her lightsaber.
 

Soverign

Lore Fanatic
#6
Ellsha smiled under her mask. And split her right hand. Though she did have one draw back from Greviouses design. She did not have six fingers, she only had five. So when she splits her hand one set has only two while the one will have the capable three fingers.

Her two clawed hand grabbed the warriors wrist and held him with strange strength that a small hand wouldn't naturally have. She was at a stalemate. But it wasn't to last. Blocking the others she twisted his arm and forced his back to be against her chest and the next thing he experienced was the heat of her blade an inch from his visor. Her hands re-joined and she held the blade to him "I only said seize it, i never said i was barred from using it. You impress me" She let him got after returning her blade to her hip. She then looked over the group and at the one known as Mal. He was capable indeed. Able to set a plan when the others were more than happy to blindly run at her till they were beaten to a pulp.

She stepped forward and took in a breath "The greatest army known was trained by Mandalorians. The greatest soldiers trained by Mandalorians. You will be trained by the best of us, but i give you this to remember. When training you, your training will not be the casual sweat making drills. Every drill will draw blood, every test will push your limits. Kel will make you a broken bodied mess, and build you better than before. And if you think him not a test i will test you. But remember, where he is harsh i am more so. Where he is brutal i am more so. The worst mistake a warrior can make is overestimate their abilities" She then turned and walked over to Kel. She stood next to him facing the opposite way. With this closeness she could use emotions that otherwise would never exist around others.

She placed a claw against his left breast "You were right, they are the best. Feel free to judge when they will begin training. You chose well.....Kel" She said with a rather soft tone and emphasis on his name. Then started walking letting her claw drag on the armor before leaving it entirely once it left her reach. She then clasped her hands and put them on the small of her back under her cloak going on a walk through the base.

--In the Spire--

Ellsha walked into the base and took a ride up to the top once again. She then sat down. In her hand was a data pad and in the middle of the cluster of seats was a holo-projector. She looked over the reports of her scout groups and was only annoyed with what came through. The Imperial Remnants were encroaching on their galactic territory. She held her mask and gave a small growl "They are moving closer, getting organized" She crossed her left leg over her right one and sat back in her seat. Her mind though and planned routes to best deal with these threats. She wanted to deal with them in a manner that shows them that even a battalion was no match for a small group of her soldiers. Her family.

She looked out the wide glass window and saw them below. She cared for them, though she wanted to show it. There was only one she could show those emotions to. Shaking herself from the imposing daydream she looked at the data pad and huffed "Even together vermin are still vermin. They must be dealt with"
 
Last edited:

Hearthridge

Master of Many Stories
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced
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No Preferences
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive (support).
Favorite Genres
Science Fiction, Horror.
Genre You DON'T Like
Fandom, Modern.
#7

Mandalorian | Advisor | Survivor

The Post Character Sheet Previous Post


  • Kelborn watched the the onset of the exercise with a muted look of disapproval on his face. He wasn't even shy about it. The lot would need a lot of work to make them into a proper unit. Some showed promise, though. He was analyzing the footwork of the combatants, watching their stumbles and their strike attempts. Some of them had the basics of Echani down, hailing to their training at the hands of the Empire. Some, had martial arts skills he had not seen before. Such was to be expected from the chosen few selected from across the galaxy. A pleasant surprise.

    Even more of a surprise was the maneuver that Mal performed to get close and reach for the saber. He would have pressed a fast and heavy offensive, and was about to at Ellsha's behest, rather than making a dangerous gambit to slide under the legs of his target. The others would need to be trained in close-quarters teamwork to minimize injury and maximize success. After the exercise, he regarded Mal with a single nod before awaiting Ellsha's dialogue to finish. His response to her words in his regard was a simple, "Yes, Mand'alor."

    As she made her way away from the parade grounds, he stepped forward and panned his gaze across the group once more.

    "Alright, ad'ika. We have a lot to work on, and we could spend the next few weeks working on form and technique...but that won't change anything until you learn to work together as a team. Some of you have the basics down, but many of you need to build upon that. We have work coming up and I feel that it would be a perfect opportunity to work on that. Get your kit ready, and be ready to dust off at the moment's notice. Until then, train and spar. Get to know one another, for soon you will be eating and sleeping and shitting as one. Any questions?"



  • Name: Kelborn Starkiller
    Race: Mandalorian
    Gender: Male
    -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
    Age: Fifty-Five
    Height: Six-Foot Five (1.95m)
    Weight: Two-Hundred Eighty Pounds (127kg/20stone)
    Hair: Dark Blonde
    Eyes: Azure Blue
    Skin: Fair and tanned

    Job Information Psych-Eval Other Info


    • Position: Right Hand / Advisor
      Strengths: Mandalorian Combat Training, Guerrilla tactics, Piloting Mandalorian Ship-Types
      Neutral: N / A
      Weaknesses and Flaws: Interpersonal Skills, Piloting everything else, Demolitions

    • Kelborn lives a very spartan life and his personality reflects this. He is short and to the point, seeking to complete the objective without much in the way of variety. His interpersonal skills are lacking, having few friends and treating nearly everyone as nothing more than a soldier. Those few who do manage to get past his Beskar note that he has a penchant for reading and takes pride in his crops during the farming season. Those who manage to get on his bad side find that Kelborn is particularly talented in prolonging the pain and suffering of his enemies, and often takes some form of pleasure from it.

    • Equipment: Bendak Starkiller's Baskar'gam (retrofitted), Bendak Starkiller's Mando'ade Heavy Blaster (retrofitted), One Beskad, One Pair of Mando'ade Crush Gauntlets, Twin Kal, Mandalorian Assault Rifle, Two Thermal Detonators, Four Fragmentation Grenades, Four Cryoban Grenades, Four Concussion Grenades, One Light Concussion Missile Launcher w/ Eight Missiles, One Basilisk War Droid (Standard Variant)
      Wealth and Resources: Stock investments in Sienar Fleet Systems, Stock investments in MandoMotors, Several 'offshore' savings accounts under different names, Multiple identifications, One Shaadlar-type Troopship


  • Blaster bolts sailed over his head, striking the dirt at his back and exploding with a sizzle of the rapid evaporation of the moisture in the soil, causing clods of muck to patter on his back. His focus was on the advancing Storm Troopers ahead of him and his grip tightened on his grip. In his foxhole, Kelborn waited with abated breath for his time to strike. He an the other resistance members were sorely out-manned and out-gunned, but this was his planet, not theirs. Mandalore belonged to the Mandalorians, and their iron was their birthright. In his right ear, he heard three chirps. That was the cue.

    He and the two dozen other in his force charged up over the hill, vocal modulators set to maximum, as they all let out a thunderous battle cry. Weapons raised and triggers pulled, blaster bolts and missiles sailed over into the oncoming Storm Troopers. The three second charge to the next line lasted hours; or so it seemed, until the blaster bolt struck him and his vision went white.


    He awoke with a start this morning, a good hour before his scheduled time to get up and start his morning training and he couldn't help but instinctively rub at the scar on his left shoulder. The trophy of years past and it was one of the same dreams that haunted him to this day. He shook himself from the cold sweat of the battle-laden dreamscape and made his way to the refresher. He had time to burn, so he spent a full five minutes longer than he normally would have to get cleaned up and put his face together. Looking in the mirror, he couldn't help but see the faces of his dead companions and friends flash across the reflection with every blink. They were the reminder of what was lost, and the fuel to the fire to reclaim what was theirs.

    Kelborn was the first to arrive at the parade grounds for the morning inspection, having spent the remainder of his morning time performing his exercises and practicing his martial arts, focusing today on the Echani fighting style with with a force pike and in full bucket. As the others started to filter in, some earlier than others to get in some exercise, he made his way to the forefront and took position with feet shoulder's length apart and visor front and center, hands clasped behind his back. Eventually, the force had assembled, his 'elite of the elite,' his pack of wolves - and just in time for the inspection.

    As his Mand'alor made her approach, he turned about face and slapped his right hand over his left breast with fist clenched in salute, the sound of the Beskar striking itself making a resounding report. He held it until she had reached speaking distance and spoken to him before dropping his salute and turning back to face the assembled.

    "I am confident in their ability to fight on their own. Am I confident they can fight as a unit? That remains to be tested. Many of these veterans are lone wolves; but I aim to turn them into a pack"

    His response was of a neutral tone as his visor stared blankly at the elite force. Under the guise of the bucket, he was checking each member's background once more and reviewing their combat skills and accolades - even the things that were hidden in the little black books. Several members have very unique backgrounds, like Mal'Sektor's. He found it intriguing that he would find him working here after working for the Sep's during the reign of Dooku and Grievous. Whether it was for the money or to get a taste of the past once more, he did not know yet. Everyone had their reasons for being here, some transparent and some veiled.

    With a snap and a hiss, he twisted the helmet free from its place on the suit and tucked it under his arm, panning his gaze over the assembled and addressed them as a whole while Ellsha continued her inspection.

    "That is what I am here to do for you. You will learn to live together, eat together, shit together. Forget whatever training you had while bunking with those nerf herders of your past. As Mando'a, you become family - and you're not yet Mando'a. So, saddle up kids. The show will be starting soon and I can't have you forget your diapers and calling home to your mommies."

    Regarding Ellsha once more, "The kids are yours, Mand'alor."
 

Ur Degaton

Ashes To Ashes
#8
Mal stared into her eyes, unfazed by the close proximity of her blade. It was true he feared the power of lightsabers, but he would never show his opponents that. He could feel its heat even with his mask on, a testament to its power and masterful creation. He has held a lightsaber or two in his lifetime, mainly the ones of dead Jedi on the battlefield. But he never actually tried wielding one, mainly due to its extremely potential danger to the wielder. Because unlike most blades, you couldn't make a single mistake with it, one wrong move and you just cut yourself in half life a warm lightsaber through butter.

After a long dramatic moment the cybernetic-clad warrior let him go as she walked away and spoke to the rest of the squad, giving them the predictable speech about the superiority of her kind and their training. He has heard the same type speech across the galaxy many times and usually didn't care for any of them. But this was different, it was said by someone with actual power and ambition. The kind of ambition he saw in the eyes of the likes of Dooku and Grevious. But even with all their power and ambition they still could not escape death. It was true, Mandalore had an impressive military and training. It was psuedo-Mandalorian dna that created and trained the clone army, so that definitely said something about their reputation. But it was also this military mentality that led to the creation of the infamous Deathwatch, who held onto the ways of the old glory of a bygone era. Hopefully clan Mansil would not stray down the same path as the Deathwatch, and become just another power hungry faction. The galaxy had too many of those already. Because as Mal has learned in his years of exploring and fighting... Nostalgia kills.

He looked to what he presumed was the second in command as said commander finished giving them the initiation speech. He didn't bother asking any questions as the others seemed more ready to get started than play one-thousand questions.
 

Soverign

Lore Fanatic
#9
After a short week or two Ellsha had narrowed down her major targets and had plans ready for each. During that time many of her raiding parties had found and destroyed intruding parties. If they be bounty hunters or who ever was not of her people they were swiftly crushed or pushed away. As she stood up in the spire she had three holo pads placed on the table before her. The furthest left pad had a facility much like this one, it was large and built into a mountain range yet was more of a crucial facility. The Imperial Remnant turned it into a manufacturing plant and were building new model weapons of war. It was both a good target but also heavily guarded. With the Imperial Forces now working under a more organized leadership the ability to raid and kill without a response wouldn't happen anymore. If they are building they are being told to.

Looking to a center pad it showed a hidden station. This was of the New Republic faction that was already beginning the war against the new rising Imperial power. The facility being on a densely forested planet and was secure for the former rebel. They would not be expecting her clan to branch out and attack them outside of their territory so surprise would be on her side. What also intrigued her was the promise of Jedi to kill. In truth if it had been Sith she would've felt the same. Both sides are hated by her people. And if these were survivors of the war or merely new Jedi then she would either way gladly rid the galaxy of them.

The far right pad held the wild card option. It was a holo projection of an Imperial class Destroyer. The Ship was under repairs and would be down for an extensive amount of time. The vessel would be important and if they were destroyed that would work, if captured.....would be a very useful weapon. Along with all the intel it would give of their growing enemy. However unless she had skilled techs to work on the vessel it would be pointless to take. But if outfitted with better weapons it could be better than any Imperial ship in the past.

Picking up the center pad she couldn't help but smile. the chance to kill Jedi and gain intel on all factions was too good to pass up. Wiping the other two pads she returned the data to the computer she used then started on her way to the lift down. As she felt the lift descend she read the data even though she had memorized the entire thing already, to keep her focused "A Battalion of soldiers at most to consist and fortify a base, or bunker of this size. Maybe.....70 should be enough. No, 100 should be sufficient and have reinforcements if necessary" As her though was to continue the door slid open and she walked out her hands at the small of her back holding the pad. She walked out seeing many training groups. But the farthest was the group she hoped to see. The pack only needed a few weeks and they were a well tuned war machine in themselves. She watched Kel along with a Quarter Master by the name of Ijaat Skirata. She hadn't seen him many times in combat but if he was there it was because Kel had him there, and he was good at his skill set.

Approaching the two Ellsha smiled "You do not disappoint, they have grown to be very deadly indeed. You have impressed me Kel. And you, Ijaat. What do you make of their improvements?" She had remembered to know each of those she would come in contact with as much as possible. Even the occasional warrior here and there. Was good to know your army, and for her she knew the best. She kept an eye on Ijaat as she waited for her answer but handed Kel the data pad. Letting him read up on the coming mission while her focus was on this Quarter Master.
 
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Desert Bee

The Enemy Stand!!!
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Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Male
#10
Rows upon rows of two-and-a-half meter weapon racks and variable munition boxes structured the room in a symmetrical maze not unlike library datashelves. Hung within one rack was a collection of A-series rifles, DLT-20s, E-18s. One of the more vanilla racks but it was a comforting sight. The galaxy had changed immeasurably in the just half century, but BlasTech Industries remained to manufacturer weapons for each and every side through it all. It was nice to have a familiar metaphorical face.

Two rows down was the column for heavy weapons where... let's see. There. Stacked aside a few concussion rifles was the misplaced item, a Relby-V10. Ijaat Skirata removed the mortar gun from the shelving and returned it to the demolitions column a few rows away. A number of taps on his datapad and all system were green, weapons accounted for. Ijaat took a moment to release a satisfied sigh as he appraised the room which had enough munitions to crater half a mountain; and this was just one of the armories.

Perhaps it was ultimately meaningless to busy himself with the allegedly important task of ordinance structuring. Mandalorians always seemed so perfected in their warcraft and organization that their sometimes utter lack of organization was just a result of automatic understanding and knowledge of wheres, hows, and whats. And it wasn't as though Ijaat was in charge of ordinance, being in charge was something restricted to an alor'ad or mand'alor, at best. No, he was just the man who made lists and neurotically stacked and shelved blasters for Mandalorians to come in as they please. Yet he felt useful and, aside from occasional misplaced and unchecked items, it seemed his position was respected.

Closing the armory door, Ijaat navigated the mountain tunnels to the outside central plateau looking for one Mandalorian in particular. Beside an old sheathipede shuttle -- there was an oddly significant amount of CIS retrofitted memorabillia here -- was the black-gold encased veteran overseeing a group of six swinging beskads and electrostaves, CQC training it seemed.

Walking up from behind to the older mando's side, Ijaat pulled off his sunbleached headress, freeing auburn tousles to fall over an eye, and hooked it to his belt. Side by side, Ijaat might have looked vertically challenged but it was more to do with his companion just being bloody tall. "Your wolves look to be gettin' a handle on things," he said by way of greeting, glancing sidelong into the forward facing black visor.

One of the trainees, wearing an old clone trooper rig, seemed particularly agile with his or her vibrosword. Apparently after the Clone Wars had ended, a good number of clones had deserted their new, glorious empire to become mando'ade. Ijaat still wasn't sure how he felt about that.

He massaged the nape of his neck shuffling his long brown hair and flicked a finger at his datapad, scrolling through their weapon stores. "Nice to have so many intrudin' bounty hunters and the like. Pickin' over their corpses for munitions is easier than goin' to the market." He grunted. "Not going to be findin' many AAs or frigates in dead freelancer pockets though. Good as the Spire is, mountains and osik," he said, waving a vague hand to gesture at the natural defensive range, "I think it would be more...comfortable if we had a couple more destroyers." Ijaat immediately set his jaw at that: comfortable. Not a good word to use around Mandalorians. Resetting his words, Ijaat opted to turn it into a vague joke while still trying to deliver his point. "Get a nice ISD shaped cloud for shade on sunny days, yeah?"

The full-armored Mandalorian, Kelborn, was possibly the person he was most comfo- er. The person Ijaat best knew and preferred being around at the Spire. He had a casual drill sergeant temperament, if those two things mix. From stories alone, he was actually a lot like what he'd heard about Kal. Dad. At any rate, rigid as a reek's spine though his personality was, Kelborn didn't seem to detest Ijaat's presence usually.

After Ijaat took a seat on a nearby container, the pair discussed ordinance stocks, weapon acquisitions, and combat training until Ijaat felt more than heard the clawed steps stalking toward them. Steel talon feet of their black cloaked leader approached. Grafted to her bone, a collection of ribbed cybernetic plating trailed from her clawed feet to the skeletal face mask below sulfur eyes. Ellsha Mansil, their aspiring mand'alor and crusader chief. Ijaat wasn't sure how he felt about her either.

It didn't help that this cybernetic reaper was being friendly.

Datapad balanced on his knee, Ijaat's still seated form shrugged. Most people around the Spire seemed to prefer saluting and parade grounds, but Ijaat was more of a casual sort. "Seen Kelborn train aruetiise before"--implying Ijaat wasn't one--"and mandos too. He knows what he's doin." Friendly though Miss Death was at the moment, she tended to have just as rigid a personality as Kelborn. He added, "Well its been a few weeks, yeah? I'd say this lot knows how to fight but I figure they knew that before they got here. If you're lookin' to test teamwork..." Ijaat made a point of not looking at Kelborn, not giving him the chance to to show off his 'shut it' glare. "There's a bit of Asset Denial work they could do. Got wind of a repair-docked ISD near ah the Tion Cluster..."

His eyes briefly flicked back and forth between their commander and Kelborn as she handed her chief advisor a 'pad. "As a casual suggestion."
 
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