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

Soverign

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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.
 
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Ur Degaton

Ashes To Ashes
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.
 
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Hearthridge

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Mandalorian | Advisor | Survivor

  • 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

    • 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

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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
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

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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"
 
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Hearthridge

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Mandalorian | Advisor | Survivor

  • 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

    • 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
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

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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

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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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Hearthridge

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Mandalorian | Advisor | Survivor

  • There were few people that Kel was comfortable interacting with in the long-term, but Ijaat was one of them. He was like him, in a way. He reminded him of when he was but a pup, trying to make an image for himself. Ijaat did a damn good job, part in thanks to his father. Kel knew old Skirata by legend and his son did not disappoint on the take. As Ellsha approached, he shifted his gaze towards her for a moment and inclined his head as a silent sign of respect and acknowledgement. He let the two discuss as they were for the moment, before interjecting his own thoughts on Ijaat's suggestion.

    "I would much rather see if we can get our hands on some of that new tech the Republic is refurbing the ISD's with. I have had little birdies in my ear telling me of a new breed of destroyers: the Nebula-Class. Supposedly has the firepower to match the old Empire's ISD's, even pose a threat to their SSD's and requires only a fifth of the crew component. It lacks in transport capacity for soldiers but that is a damn good trade-off in my books." He glances towards Ijaat at that, "If you can scrounge up the location of a shipyard producing them, or refitting them, let me know."

    He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, "That said, an ISD could make a good addition to the fleet. From a logistics-view, though, we will not have the ability to get her running if we wanted to take control of it. Average crew composition is, what...almost forty-thousand? With a skeleton crew, we would still need a good few hundred to even get her moving again - assuming she's spaceworthy. Are there any other assets on site worth looking in to?"

    His gaze turned to Ellsha, then, as she was being offered the datapad. While she took the opportunity to read the material, he brought his left arm up and started tapping on the integrated pad to start sifting through the wolves for the hunting pack and marking potential munitions assets that might be needed for space infiltration.



  • 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

    • 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,
    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?"
 
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Soverign

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Ellsha had listened to the two discuss the ship in question and the new breeds of vessel Kel spoke of did interest her. Fifth the crew, near if not greater firepower that the old Imperial Star Destroyer. A wave of those in her fleet would tip the scale. Those and a few Raider-Class corvettes would be nice. Mobile command center or a ship to use as a knife to cut through enemy lines. Both choices would be splendid. But that would need to be handled by others. Looking at Kel did she nod "Send those you think capable to take the destroyer. However i will not have them keep it. Kill all aboard, take the intelligence it may have, and strip the ship completely. Take everything, engine parts, armor plating and weapons are a few on the list. Once they are done destroy it and leave them none the wiser. We have a different mission. Get the pack and 75 others onto the ships. We will be there as soon as possible. I am wanting to find a suitable challenge" Ellsha turned and tightened her hand into a fist "I will meet you two on the ship, i must.....make some changes" She moved and returned to the spire. As she laid upon her table did the droid rise and look down on her.

The droid removed her lower hand and added newer, or more accurate, older in design hand parts. She wanted to better hold her sabers and to better kill. Best way to do that was to give herself six fingers. As she returned to the ships she found herself approaching the Kom 'rk class transports with her crew. She moved up and found the seats open. Approaching the cockpit she spoke to the pilots. Yes she was Mandalore but she liked to know them. Her soldiers, since she could have none, her children even. As the coordinates were placed into the ship she sat in one of the few seats in the cockpit left and closed her eyes. Soon the sound of boots thundered into the ship as many of her followers took their seats readying for the strike.
 
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Ur Degaton

Ashes To Ashes
Mal had only been there for a little over two weeks and he was already getting antsy. He wanted to get back into the action, while it's true the Mandalorian training regiments certainly taught him some new tricks. It was mostly just a work-out more than anything else. Raising his blaster, Mal continued to shoot the training droid in front of him, hitting the center of the painted target on its chest everytime. He had been doing that alot since he arrived here. Whenever they weren't doing rudimentary training drills or redudndant combat training, he was at the range killing the limitless supply of B1 battle droids that were reprogrammed for target practice. He was waiting, waiting for his first real mission, his trigger finger twitched at the thought of fighting an army of enemies as they fall one after another to his blaster bolts. The fear in their eyes as they glaze over and fall lifelessly to the ground, never knowing what hit them. Mal would be lying if he said he didn't have bloodlust or an urge to kill, it was just in his nature, imprinted on the essence of his very being. He knew it was unhealthy, but when you've been alive so long, and have seen just about every atrocity in the galaxy . You become desensitized to death and killing as if it has become second nature. Mal realized long ago that if you didn't enjoy the job you did, whether it be trading, building, or even killing, it would eventually consume you, leaving an empty husk in its wake.
 

Desert Bee

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How quickly the galaxy evolves, thought Ijaat. Not even fifty years ago ago, the most powerful empire seen in over millennia had dominated the galaxy with a limitless supply of indomitable war-machines, Imperial Star Destroyers. And now barely a decade post-Empire, the "peaceful" New Republic already had something superior. Perhaps the problem was the galaxy didn't evolve at all.

"Yeah, if I hear anything about these ergonomic capital ships, you'll know alright," replied Ijaat. "Though to be fair, reckon droids could easily make up most of the work force of an ISD, yeah? Not that I'm pressin' the matter. As for other targets, well... enh." His voice trailed off after Ellsha began making a few head bobs. Best to let the apparent Mand'alor have her say and continue this conversation with Kelborn later. However it seemed she actually agreed with Ijaat's suggested Asset Denial mission, a bit too easily. Hm. Must've already had the target in mind... Good job, Ijaat. Wastin' the boss's time with old news.

What stuck out was that he wasn't apart of the mission he had suggested. Ijaat stood up from his seated position over the fuel crate to object but faltered once Ellsha turned to stalk back to the Spire.

He set his jaw.
"Well. S'pose that's settled." Ijaat slipped his datapad into his belt, pulled on his pale helmet, and slapped Kelborn's black shoulder with a couple gloved fingers. "Send a few vode to the armory, eh? I'll get us some specialist tech and extra kit for... whatever this op is."

With two fingers to his helmet, Ijaat fired a casual salute at Kelborn then returned to the munitions storage rooms to gather additional launchers, sniper rifle blasters, and several other goodies that might come in handy.
 

Ur Degaton

Ashes To Ashes
Once Mal had reached his fifteenth training droid, he decided to take a break and head for the mess hall. The food they served was pretty decent despite being military issued. As he walked, he passed the main hangar where everyone pretty much flocked to. He hoped none of his squad mates spotted him. Ever since he told everyone he fought in the clone wars they've been bugging him ever since, asking how old he was or if he had met this important figure or that important figure. Truth be told, he wasn't very old despite what his background would entail, he chalked it up to people assuming he was human because of his armor and physique. He certainly looked human with all that armor on, but looks can be decieving.
 

Hearthridge

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Mandalorian | Advisor | Survivor

  • Kel merely grunted a farewell as Ellsha made her departure after disclosing the operation basics. He panned his gaze towards Ijaat and pursed his lips, mulling over words in his head before speaking.

    "Truth be told, Ijaat; even with a compliment of autonomous droids, operating an ISD would be a great challenge. If we were to need a fifth of the crew to run it at absolute skeleton-level, even with droids, that would be several thousand. As much as I wish I had a Mando'ade cache-full of Old Republic-era battle droids to scamper about the halls, the cost-risk analysis would far outweigh the benefits. AD is a good way to go. Stripping the engines will be the hardest part of the OP, though. Those will be an aaray shebs."

    The Mando sucked in a thoughtful breath through his teeth and clicked his tongue, glancing off to the side. "Prep some thorium charges. We will need something potent to break through the blast doors easily and access the guts of the ISD. I will send the pups down for their snacks shortly."

    As Ijaat snapped off his salute and went off, he turned in kind and returned to his quarters. Part of his pre-mission ritual was to disassemble his blaster and reassemble it. It was better to have a freshly-maintained weapon than not. He spent the time until the boarding for the OP tinkering with his raiment before meeting Ellsha at the gantry of the dropship. He always disapproved of the Kom'kr. It felt too light, looked too light. It reminded him of the jetiis Eta-2 Actis Light Interceptors. Famously dangerous in dog-fights, and downright terrifying in the hands of a Jedi, but they were all-but made of plasteel. Light armor, but agile.

    "Looks like one, too."

    Kel mumbled under his breath, his suit's vocabulator projecting his words in a low, barely recognizable tone. He turned his body to face the approaching boots, his gaze scanning each and every person present from behind his visor, blinking out commands for his HUD and logging the equipment being brought. He wanted to have a net-gain on assets, not loss, and doing that requires a list of what you start with. He stood there in relative silence as the troop boarded, waiting for the numbers to settle in, waiting for the Mand'alor to give the go for launch.



  • 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

    • 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


  • There were few people that Kel was comfortable interacting with in the long-term, but Ijaat was one of them. He was like him, in a way. He reminded him of when he was but a pup, trying to make an image for himself. Ijaat did a damn good job, part in thanks to his father. Kel knew old Skirata by legend and his son did not disappoint on the take. As Ellsha approached, he shifted his gaze towards her for a moment and inclined his head as a silent sign of respect and acknowledgement. He let the two discuss as they were for the moment, before interjecting his own thoughts on Ijaat's suggestion.

    "I would much rather see if we can get our hands on some of that new tech the Republic is refurbing the ISD's with. I have had little birdies in my ear telling me of a new breed of destroyers: the Nebula-Class. Supposedly has the firepower to match the old Empire's ISD's, even pose a threat to their SSD's and requires only a fifth of the crew component. It lacks in transport capacity for soldiers but that is a damn good trade-off in my books." He glances towards Ijaat at that, "If you can scrounge up the location of a shipyard producing them, or refitting them, let me know."

    He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, "That said, an ISD could make a good addition to the fleet. From a logistics-view, though, we will not have the ability to get her running if we wanted to take control of it. Average crew composition is, what...almost forty-thousand? With a skeleton crew, we would still need a good few hundred to even get her moving again - assuming she's spaceworthy. Are there any other assets on site worth looking in to?"

    His gaze turned to Ellsha, then, as she was being offered the datapad. While she took the opportunity to read the material, he brought his left arm up and started tapping on the integrated pad to start sifting through the wolves for the hunting pack and marking potential munitions assets that might be needed for space infiltration.

 
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Soverign

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Ellsha sat in her chair and felt a growl build in her throat as the ships began to lift and fly in formation. She didn't fear or hate flying, but she was just a tad impatient for combat. But as experience tells, patience is key. She waited and soon the ships jumped and began their journey. It wasn't going to be far but just to make sure she opened a comm to her soldiers, to her family "I expect this to be a decent challenge. But be warned. There was talk a cycle ago of Jedi residing in the facility. As far as the Information is concerned maybe 4. A master and his younglings. I want their sabers by the end of this. If you find a person of interest. Capture, and then Kel will have a fun conversation with them. Other than those individuals, no survivors." Ellsha then sat back and looked out at the shifting space as their jump was soon to end.

She clinked her fingers together starting from her pinkie to her closest finger to her thumb. Using this as an in field relaxer, or a way to focus when multiple issues cut at her mind. Right now all she wanted was battle. All she wanted was Jedi at her feet.
 
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Ur Degaton

Ashes To Ashes
As Mal arrived at the mess hall, he was immediately greeted by one of his squadmate's. A Rodian named Drog Bleeksa, who immediately wrapped his arm around the bounty hunter's shoulder. Ever since Mal arrived to join the clan, Drog had been the first one to piss him off the most. It wasn't the Rodian's attitude that pissed him off. It was his mouth, the guy would never shut up.

"So you gonna sit with us, or are you going to brood in the corner for the third time this week. You really should get to know your other squadmates. Did you know that a star destroyer can hold up to fifty thousa-" Before Drog could finish, Mal brushed of his hand and walked over to the table where his squad sat. He was itching for combat, being cooped up wasn't healthy for bounty hunters. He didn't care what it was, any job would satisfy him by that point.
 

Soverign

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The Kom'rk ships arrived and with speed went into orbit. To enter the planet there were a few options before starting. But the best held the most risk. Following a small meteor shower the ships signals will be masked and any sizable objects will be seen as debris. As the group of ships entered did Ellsha feel the shaking of the hull. Entering the atmosphere causes such things. A planet welcoming the visitors. But the Meteors were along side them making it quite the light show.

As the ships slowed did they hide in the forest. Big enough areas to land but small enough to remain unnoticed. Ellsha stood up and walked out as her soldiers were let loos into the forest. She held her twin blasters and looked around at them "Stealth to the base. Silence all patrols" Her claws felt the ground and her talons sank into the ground like blades into flesh. She was excited. Hungry for the very glory of war they all feel a bond to. That calls their very purpose.
 
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