|
Cirith An'Gol
"You got something for me? or are you just another slack jawed arruetti admiring my armor"-Cirith
|
|
last online May 31, 2020 19:14:38 GMT -5
Knight
|
|
|
Aug 24, 2010 16:05:21 GMT -5
Post by Cirith An'Gol on Aug 24, 2010 16:05:21 GMT -5
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ShtAtZEMGUY&feature=searchCirith wandered the ashy remains of the ground that had once been grass and dirt, with Mandalorian men and women atop of it. Some lay sprawled on the ground, their armor smoking as they were too close to the explosion to be thrown away as he had. He could actually smell them, as they were literally cooked from the inside of their armor. He was hit from behind, his helmet sparking as claws from a Togorian raked across the back of his skull, the impact throwing him to the ground. Cirith howled in pain but it sounded more like the growl of some fierce-some feral beast. The desperation to find his friend, turned into pure blinding rage then. Adrenaline flooded his system once again as his rage built. The Mandalorian got to his feet in an instant and barreled into the sneering form of his Togorian attacker, tackling him to the ground and ejecting his hidden knuckle blades as he swung his fists over and over. His knuckle blades carving chunks of meat out of the great cat's head. A shot rang out and the Shields on his armor flared, and pain lanced through his back and ribcage. Cirith let out a howl of pain once again, and turned to face yet another attacker, this time a Republic troop. The Togorian though wasn't dead quite yet, kicking Cirith off with a shove from his powerful feet. Cirith flew off and crashed bodily into the Republic troop, they both fell heavily to the ground. The trooper threw a blind punch that connected with the chin of Cirith's helmet, the impact lifting it clear from his head. The Mandalorian didn't care in the least and head-butted the man hard enough to knock him unconscious. Blood trickled from the new wound on Cirith's head but he had more important things to think about. Namely the Togorian behind him, who was apparently amused by Cirith's attack on the Republic soldier. Cirith grabbed his helmet and stood, staggering slightly as the massive adrenaline rush was slowing down and dissipating. The Togorian walked forward growling and baring it's 2 to 3 inch teeth, it's blood dampening it's fur from Cirith's onslaught. The Togorians hands flexed open, revealing razor sharp claws as his stance widened in preparation for unarmed combat. Cirith had no intention of fighting him unarmed however, the helmet still in his hand he started fast limping forward. The Togorian rushed forward too only to be met with Cirith's helmet, as the Mandalorian stopped and twisted his body back and held the buy'ce in both hands for a stronger swing. The impact echoed off the rocks and remains of the convoy nearby, though Cirith couldn't hear it due to the ringing in his head. The Togorian actually flipped back-wards onto it's head, it tried to get up but, the beskar helmet's impact had been too hard, dizzying it, so it fell back to the ground. Pain lanced up his back as Cirith drew one of his reverse gripped vibroswords and struck, the blade going through the Togorian's back and into his heart. By this time the Republic troop had managed to stagger to his feet, having awoken from the "braining" Cirith had given him. Cirith by this time had lost too much blood to stay upright for much longer, he could feel the ebb of the adrenaline, feel himself slowing. Cirith stumbled over to the still groggy soldier and slammed his helmet against his head, before taking the soldiers own weapon and shooting him in the head with it, ending the battle. Cirith dropped the weapon as if it was junk and stumbled away, heading toward where he thought the remainder of the Mandalorian force had gathered. He found his Westar's and kept moving, pure force of will driving him on. A few moments later he found his SD-15 rifle and crouched to pick it up. It was then he heard his friend calling, too weak from blood loss and the after affects of the adrenaline he shouted his friend's name one last time, drawing a Westar and firing into the air. It was a suicide move he knew, he'd draw attention to himself, the Republic could swarm him, or Mandalore's party could misinterpret the signal, thinking that their reinforcements had arrived. He mentally shook the thoughts from his mind, forcing himself to think more positively Tor could find me or the reinforcements could see and know where the fighting is at. Cirith slumped to the ground and rolled over, his twice dented buy'ce still in right his hand and his father's Westar pistol in his left. Blackness started to slowly overtake him but he remained aware for the next few moments, just enough time to spot his friend to his left about 30 meters away or so. He raised his hand, hoping his friend would see it and finally everything went dark. He'd lost too much blood from the wound in is head, even though it wasn't terribly serious all things considered. It'd still bled like a stock pig though. Then there was the affects of the two adrenaline rushes. The combination was more than he was used to and his body reacted accordingly and he simply passed out.
|
|
|
|
|
Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
9,275 posts
55 likes
the one and only
|
|
last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Sept 1, 2010 1:47:50 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Sept 1, 2010 1:47:50 GMT -5
Another Republic soldier spasmed and fell over, the result of the business end of Ambria's sniper rifle. By now she had stopped counting how many enemies she had downed; well over a dozen or two by now if she had to guess. Everything had gone from peaceful to chaos in a matter of minutes, and crouched as she was, the woman didn't have a clear idea of where her comrades were, except those in her immediate HUD display or of how the battle was actually going. Or if Mandalore, the obvious target of this mess, was still okay. All she could do was fight on till she could no longer. But sooner or later, she would have to leave her cover. Until then... another shot rang out from her rifle, felling a Togorian on the wrong side.
It felt like she had been laying there forever in the dirt between the two transports, her belly ground into the soil, her trigger pumping repeatedly hundreds of meters away when a crackle entered her ears. With a couple of blinks and a tongue flick she cleared the transmission to hear Bane's voice. A sigh of relief that he sounded okay was quickly replaced with understanding of the new plan. The Togorian general and his soldiers, Mandalore and his would retreat, leaving only a handful behind. Knowing that her sniper services would best be served waiting behind to cover the mass leaving, she stayed put for the moment. And waited to be chosen, also knowing she could not assume that her commander wanted her to stay behind.
She saw most of the soldiers quickly but quietly massing towards Bane out of the corner of her helmet display, but yet no one had given her orders. Ambria sighed; she would have to go with the others, disappointed that her services had been overlooked again. Though she respected Bane in the utmost, she couldn't help feeling that after her latest promotion she had fallen through the cracks. And wondering what she would have to do to gain some respect, a silly thought coming from a Mandalorian who should gain respect anywhere she went, no matter her rank or role. She shoved away those thoughts; they would only get her in trouble. And so when Bane yelled the time to move back into the jungle, she nimbly got up off the ground and was on her feet, running with the others, slinging her rifle over her soldier and grabbing for her pistols. Ambria had a different role to play today, and she would perform to the best of her abilities. There was more than one way to skin a Togorian.
Ambria ran with the others, the multiple colors of the Mandalorian soldiers' armor and the Togorians' fur almost making a dizzying telescope. She swept her head back and forth as she headed forward, reaching out with one of her blasters to pick off an enemy soldier who had the wrong idea. But for the most part, their retreat seemed to have taken few notice. The plan was working. So far.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Jan 14, 2020 17:37:19 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Sept 28, 2010 9:07:36 GMT -5
Post by Jace on Sept 28, 2010 9:07:36 GMT -5
There were few things as exhilarating as charging through an open field towards an enemy. Of course it may have just been exciting to him because it was near suicide. They had to cover the open ground fast, there was no other choice. Many wouldn't survive the charge but that was war. If Bane had artillery or numerous other assets at his disposal he would have used them, but he didn't, not this time. No, this time he was back to the basics of war, the one that isn't masked by large explosions and mighty battleships.
Blaster bolts shot passed his head as he sprinted through the open plain. There were muffled grunts and louder cries, some would not make it. He raised his own blaster, and squeezed off a trio of shots before speeding up. A small trench had been formed by explosions and lay just before the treeline. Bane moved fast, but Itani moved faster, and the Mandalorian watched as the assassin leaped over the trench. He landed hard in the trench, only giving himself a brief respite, staying here would not help their cause. The Republic was still distracted by the reconnaissance team, it was now or never.
He heaved himself out of the trench and sprinted as fast as he could to the treeline. Bane charged straight for a soldier who managed to get off a hasty shot. The bolt nicked his shoulder but that was nowhere enough to stop the inertia that propelled the Mandalorian. Bane's shoulder crashed into the soldier which sent him flying hard into the tree behind him. The Republic soldier slumped to the ground, and the Mandalorian searched for his next target. He didn't have to search long for they were all around him.
The sharp metallic sound of Bane drawing his katanas was music to his ears. He was finally in close quarters, a blade in his hand was much preferred to a blaster. Bane dived forward and rolled to his feet, batting aside an enemy's blaster with one blade and stabbing him with the other. He ripped the blade out of the man's gut, splattering blood on the soft ground. His enemies seemed to have discarded their blasters and instead drew vibroblades. They realized that they were more likely to hit each other than Bane. The right decision but unfortunately their enemy excelled at melee combat.
Two Republic soldiers charged him, blades above their heads. Bane deftly dodged their strikes one after the other. They swung their blades clumsily with three swift strikes, Bane dropped his opponents. He didn't give the next group time to attack and charged forward at them. Bane parried a hurried strike and brought his right blade down, cutting the soldier from right shoulder to left hip. He was already spinning to his left before the man's body even fell to the ground. The Mandalorian just barely dodged the massive blade of a Togorian traitor. The Togorian's strikes would have easily bisected him, but they were slow and ungainly. Bane slashed his thighs, cutting tendons, causing the Togorian to fall to his knees. The Mandalorian raised his blade and brought it straight down, cutting cleanly through half the soldier's head.
Bane turned around just in time to see a missile launch from the distance and crash into the wrecked convoy. Their enemies seemed to be thinning but Trin's position was being overrun. It wasn't long before Trin was taken captive and Bane could only watch. Slight regret resounded in him, but he quickly let it go. Commanders were forced to make tough choices, he had sacrificed a few so that many could survive. Just then his view was obstructed by the arrival of numerous armored vehicles.
"Sir, convoy has arrived, I suggest we move ASAP" came the voice of the Togorian general
"Understood, see to it that we get the wounded in first" replied Bane
The Mandalorian leader was searching for someone, his eyes scanning the battlefield. Finally he found who he was looking for and quickly made his way over to him. Though Bane couldn't see through the assassins' visor, he knew what the man was thinking. No doubt he had seen Trin get captured and was about to rush off and do something foolish. Bane didn't much care for the assassin but he wasn't about to let a valued asset go and get himself killed because he was an idiot.
"Don't do anything foolish, boy. If you try to go after her now you will either end up captured or killed and I don't like you enough to rescue you. We will get her back, but we need to regroup first"
Bane nodded to two Togorian soldiers and motioned toward Itani. His meaning was clear, if Itani did not come willingly, then it would have to be the hard way. He had seen too many of his comrades die because of their recklessness. If one should die, it should be in a place of their choosing and honorably, not because of their stupidity. The Mandalorian made his way over to one of the central vehicles and hit his comm.
"Alright, lets mount up!"
|
|
|
|
|
Latus
May the Quartz be with you.
850 posts
0 likes
Ain't got time for this. (?°?°??? ???
|
|
last online Jun 27, 2014 19:37:36 GMT -5
Guardian
|
|
|
Oct 6, 2010 22:23:28 GMT -5
Post by Latus on Oct 6, 2010 22:23:28 GMT -5
((Yeah I know it took me a long time. Give me a break **** hit the fan. Grr, rusty...))
Everything was going wrong. The cold from the rock had finally bled through his skin suit and shivers coursed through his body. His cover was effective but the sounds of blaster fire and explosions still raged all around him. He was waiting for something, something elusive; the lull of gunfire coming from the other side of the rock. In his peripherals he detected the movements of others, dozens of men and togorians still fighting the republic, still fighting to escape. Sighing at the needlessness the assassin put even more of his weight against the rock.
Brilliant... every second...
Then he heard it, or in this case failed to hear it. In one step he had whirled around his cover, blaster in hand, and took aim at where he thought the enemy was taking cover. Indeed one aru'e had been forced to reload. Itani smiled as the soldier's weapon and head came over the rock; he pulled the trigger. The weapon recoiled and the bolt struck true, scoring the man's helmet. Nodding to himself he dropped back to cover, praying this wouldn't drag on longer than it had to.
Hey brain, anything yet?
Everything I can think of requires the removal of those soldiers! Get to it di'kut.
Taking a deep breath he brought the blaster to his chest again, ready to move. However on the edges of his vision something stood out. At that moment it became clear and Bane slid into cover right beside him. The assassin still breathed heavily as he looked into the visor of his "commander." For a moment they regarded each other, two incredibly different mandalorians. Itani wondered if, for once their minds were on the same thing.
"Don't do anything foolish, boy. If you try to go after her now you will either end up captured or killed and I don't like you enough to rescue you. We will get her back, but we need to regroup first"
Nope... well, kinda.
The assassin would have said something. In his mind he should have said something, something witty or sarcastic but nothing came to him. This was not the situation for it and, come to think of it, there were way too many republic soldiers to go through before he even got to Trin. Plus the way Bane spoke sent chills up his spine; for once he was afraid of repercussions if he disobeyed. In a single motion he raised his eyes over the rock to look back down to the convoy. For that instant he saw a flash of her armor amid the throng of republic soldiers and the logic of Bane's words finally reached his consciousness. Quickly he took a deep breath and let himself flow into the unfamiliar niche of seriousness.
Yes... sir. On you.
Just this once.
Itani watched after Bane as he broke from cover and made for one of the evac vehicles. Reaching the blaster around the rock he fired a few blind shots before sprinting off after his commander. Soon he was right behind the large man's footsteps, shadowing him as they moved. Bane's call of "... mount up" brought a nod from the assassin and he pulled himself into one of the passenger spaces on the small vehicle. Turning he glanced back, unsure of whether he did the right thing. His entire life he never cared about anything and he wondered if by changing it now he had made a mistake. He couldn't see Trin anymore and he shook his head. He could see Ambria and a few of the others but not once did his eyes meet any whisper of Trin. His head dropped and he touched his com.
Ready to go.
|
|
|
|
|
{ Lasky }
Tal's Half-Vampy Slave: Complete With Buckled Boots
233 posts
0 likes
"The Force shall free me..."
|
|
last online Apr 22, 2015 20:31:42 GMT -5
Padawan
|
|
|
Oct 23, 2010 0:06:31 GMT -5
Post by { Lasky } on Oct 23, 2010 0:06:31 GMT -5
Orar'ika charged forward, a grey and golden-bronze blur darting behind cover of the shredded convoy. Enemy fire continued to rain as the Mandalorians' position was overrun by Republic soldiers and their Togorian supporters. The young marksman picked them off one by one, determined to buy Bane and his envoy more time. Orar’ika spotted a flash, up and off to his left – a single blaster bolt screaming straight up into the sky. Someone was sending a signal at the risk of attracting even more attention from the enemy, a highly unorthodox maneuver. Or it could have been a trap. At first the bronze clad Mando pushed it from his mind, but even as he downed another enemy soldier, something about it nagged at him. And that’s when it dawned on him that he recognized the sound. It was the peculiar whine native to Westar models. Cirith An’gol carried a pair of Westars; he must have fired the shot, hoping his friend Tor would see and/or hear it. This meant that he was in trouble. ¬Orar’ika’s expression inside his helm was a grim one; he should have guessed - Cirith thought like a mercenary after all, not like a rank-and-file soldier. Thankful that his shields were back up to full strength, the Mandalorian burst out from behind his cover in the direction of his fallen comrade. Just as he reached Cirith’s distinct grey and red silhouette, he was forced into a roll to evade a burst of fire from a Togorian foe. As he came back up onto his feet, Orar’ika pulled off a shot from each pistol. The Mando’s foe leapt over both shots however, nearly landing on top of him. This particular Togorian was not as muscular as many of the others Tor had seen, but he was shockingly fast, knocking the Mando backwards just as he was about to fire a third and fourth shot. Orar’ika was soon relieved of his sudden predicament however, as the Republic-allied alien was dragged off of him and bludgeoned to death. Rising to his feet yet again, the half-Zeltron nodded thanks to his Togorian comrade, who was hooking his warhammer back onto his belt. As if reading the Mandalorian’s mind, the grisly feline hefted Cirith over his shoulder and turned towards the wooded area where the rest of their allies were headed. “Let’s move,” he said. Orar’ika couldn’t agree more.
|
|
|
|
|
Cirith An'Gol
"You got something for me? or are you just another slack jawed arruetti admiring my armor"-Cirith
|
|
last online May 31, 2020 19:14:38 GMT -5
Knight
|
|
|
Oct 24, 2010 23:42:20 GMT -5
Post by Cirith An'Gol on Oct 24, 2010 23:42:20 GMT -5
It was pitch dark but, the sounds remained. Blaster fire, screaming men, terrifying roars of lion-like preportions, explosions and the heat of fuel burning engines. The blackness in Cirith's mind started churning like water beginning to boil, his mind swam through the blackness and came to two images. The destruction of the caravan...and Tor Otani. Cirith snapped awake and took his surroundings in an instant. He didn't know how long he'd been out but, one thing was for sure. He was still on Togoria, he was being carried by a Togorian and his helmet was off. The memory came back almost instantly. That's right, he'd used his helmet to bash the hell out of a Togorian and then lost consciousness. He spotted it a moment later as the Togorian's hands swayed back and forth, two great dents maring the helmet with a crack that ran from the left side of the "T" in the visor to the lower right side of the "T". The crack itself looked something like a lightning bolt splitting the sky at an 70 degree angle. He couldn't see his long time friend Tor Otani though. Where was Tor? Suddenly Cirith's vision flipped as the Togorian placed him on a deck, making his already throbbing head hurt even more as his brain tried to comprehend the images that were being thrown at it in it's wounded state. He'd gotten himself a minor concussion by headbutting that Republic Soldier, it was a relatively minor injury all considering.
Cirith felt like he'd taken a ride on a bucking Rancor and lost but, he was conscious, despite his still swimming vision. He looked for his friend but, still didn't see him "Tor. Wait Tor! Where's Tor?!" the Togorian rested a huge palm against his shoulder, trying to calm him. Cirith didn't read it that way, his fist struck hard against the cat's jaw and unbalanced the huge feline alien for a split second, but it was all he needed. Cirith was back on his feet with his knuckle blades ejected from their housings. "I'll ask again and then I won't ask anymore. Where is Tor Otani?" he said his voice taking on a coldness that hadn't been heard before.
A moment later the Togorian the big cat moved and Cirith breathed a sigh of relief as he took in his friend. "Satisfied?" the Togorian said as he rubbed his jaw. Cirith merely nodded in silence as he stretched out a hand to help his friend into the transport.
|
|
|
|
|
Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
9,275 posts
55 likes
the one and only
|
|
last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Oct 29, 2010 18:51:00 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Oct 29, 2010 18:51:00 GMT -5
(((Blah, this posts sucks.)))
Her pistols flashed back and forth as she ran, keeping one eye on where she was heading to and one on where she was heading from. Now that the enemy had realized they were retreating from the bombed-out transports, their route was no longer an easy one. Most of the bolts flying at them pinged off of armor. But the Togorians had no armor, nor did the Republic soldiers, not armor like the Mandaloriains. They were easier to fell. A check to see what was ahead of her, then a snap of the head behind her, a flash of a trigger, a fallen enemy. Then back to running full-tilt with the others. Ambria had gone into mechanical battle mode, not really thinking, just reacting.
Coming to a trench gouged into the landscape, she didn't even bother trying to jump over it. Perhaps if she still had had two biological legs, but with her prosthetic, it would not work. In most things it acted just like the one she had been born with, but there were a few situations that would stress it too much, and this would be one of them. Not bothering to holster her weapons until she had jumped inside, she scrambled up the other side, and the pistols were back in her hands.
The enemy was no longer just following them, but had surrounded them. Seeing their retreat, they had found the time to come in at all sides, cutting them off at the start of the forest where the Mandalorians had been running. Ambria slowed down and finally stood still. It would be stupid, let alone traitorous, to try to continue into the forest, leaving the rest of her fellows behind. She hefted her two pistols and set her mouth in a grim smile. This would be easy; she had been in worse situations. With a low growl that was heard by none but herself, she started firing.
Though not as effective as the sniper rifle, Ambria was still almost surgical with her pistols, finding, aiming and shooting down a target, sometimes two at once; the benefit of having two blaster pistols. For a moment, seeing Bane out of the corner of her eye, she wished she had some kind of knife or other close-combat weapon. But in the times were that would be more effective than her pistols, she just holstered them and used her body and all her unarmed training from her father. If she got in close enough, it didn't matter if the enemy soldier had a firearm. The woman could render it and its owner useless well enough. For the Togorians, though, she reserved her pistols for them; knowing her own limitations was something that was key to her own survival.
Soon enough, rescue transports had arrived. Ambria shot off a few more rounds before heading with the others, while watching her back through her helmet HUD, to the vehicles. Once inside, her role would change. Even without a full lineup of medical supplies, she had enough things stashed in her belt and her experience and knowledge to get the most seriously wounded comfortable enough until they could be given more professional treatment.
Putting her weapons away, she entered the transport where the wounded had been escorted aside, letting those who with only minor injuries gather in the others. With her focus switched from causing harm to healing, she went to work on the closest Mandalorian. Not once even thinking of any fatalities. Or what the new plan would be to counter for this ambush.
|
|
|
|