Ask Flashpoint Guerilla Warfare in the Streets of Denon

[Maerae Verdan]

Denon belonged to the Free World Alliance. There was no point believing otherwise. Imperial forces had been largely routed from the world, and those that were left were pocket forces without resources. The platoon Maerae had initially been assigned to serve alongside had been cut in fourths, and then cut off from one another. Their commanding officer hadn't been heard from in hours, and that left Maerae, an acolyte, in charge of ten wounded and exhausted men of the Imperial Assault Corp.

She was in the worst circumstance she could be in. A few of her men couldn't walk properly. Even Maerae herself had a nasty burn on her thigh: the remnant of a near hit from a blaster, that had come close enough to burn through her robes and singe her skin. It wasn't unbearable, but she felt it constantly, and the pain only became more intense when she put weight on her leg.

And still, she was expected to conduct warfare against the FWA and their Jedi protectors.

Night had fallen, and currently they were spread out among a number of rooftops above one of the countless streets of the ecumenopolis. Before their platoon had been sundered, the Lieutenant had planned on hitting a small caravan of supplies: a fat and slow speeder, supposedly stocked with arms and bacta, escorted by a few greenhorns on speeder bikes. The FWA needed those supplies, but the remaining Imperial forces on the planet needed them more.

This ambush was foolhardy on her part: she had a handful of wounded men, armed only with rifles and pistols, and no leadership experience to speak of. Not to mention that morale was at an all time low. But Sith served the Empire, above all else. And Maerae was destined to become Sith.

"Five minutes to estimated arrival," Maerae spoke into her comlink, as she scanned the streets below, "keep your eyes on the street."
@Taz

 

[Taz Fett]

Danon was the perfect example of the current galactic conflict. Resting on a invisible line on someones else's nav map. The planet on been concord, and "saved" several times over the years. Trading lives and rock the way the ISC's banking clan trades financial assets.

The FWA's control over the world was largely due to the Jedi sorcerers. The former had the numbers but seemed to lack the leadership for warfare. Ro was a pompous ass, but he did not cower in the face of conflict. As for the latter, well one had to only look at Lothal.

It was perhaps for this these reasons that the Mandalorian's Death Watch had chosen this planet to conduct their version of warfare. Dress in all black iron skin to blend in with Sith special forces already on the planet. Taz Fett led a six man team of DW commandos. Using a Jedi shuttle from Lothal, the commandos would land planet side under the cover of darkness.

<We need to move quickly> Taz commanded his team in Mando'a. <That convoy we spotted on the way in could have spotted us. L6 remain on the ship the rest of us move.>

Quickly moving from their ship, two of the commando jetpacked to a bombed out building across from the Sith had positioned themselves, while the remaining four waited in an alley just off the street.

@Vicc125

 

[Bo'roth Nazzat]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Denon. Inner Rim. Ecumenopolis. Fine. It could have been Coruscant or Korriban for all he cared. Bo’roth Nazzat was here to hunt, though it remained uncertain as to whom. There were FWA forces, SE forces, and in between the flies on the wall; the watchers, the bystanders, ‘civilians’, as some called them.

In the book of Bo’roth, however, no one was a bystander. You were either predator or prey. The hunter or the hunted. THE HUNT. And the hunt was on.

The Blight descended upon Denon, alone in the not so lonely night, lit up as it was by bolt and fire as battle blistered the planet and war waged on. For someone like Bo’roth, for a member of a species like this one of the Yautkan, Denon was simply a playground, and yet much and more.

The hunter nestled his starfighter upon a skyscraper whose roof had caved in, parking the vessel on the floor beneath within ruined walls. Debris surrounded it but no life forms within the vicinity. Exiting his ship, Bo’roth secured his arms and armor.*

The Yautkan paced to the edge of the building, extending infrared vision into the night behind the metal mask that served as his helm, and searched for his prey. There was another bombed out building across the street, rooftops among it, and somewhere amid them were souls rife for the reaping.

Bo’roth would find them, or they would find him, it didn’t matter who found who first. One way or the other, the predator would pounce upon the prey, for the hunt demanded no less. THE HUNT. THE HUNT. THE HUNT.


*

Spoiler

-> Personal armor [Function 3: Projectile Launcher]
-> Yautkan Combistick
-> Vibro-knife
-> Khanjar
-> Plasma bow
-> Yautkan Blades
-> Throwing Razor
-> PL-50 Stun Gas Grenade x3
-> DG.7 Blaster Pistol

@Vicc125 @Taz

 

[Maerae Verdan]

Two men jetpacked their way to a building across from her, and for a brief moment, Maerae felt panic. Her forces were barely adequate for a couple of greenhorn soldiers, much less shock troopers. So, when she realized she was looking at Mandalorian allies, her relief was palpable. It even showed itself on her usually stoic face.

She adjusted her comlink, broadcasting on a channel typically utilized by mercenary forces working under the Sith. If she could contact their commander, maybe they could come up with a way to execute this raid without losing the rest of her men. It wasn't a very typical Sith mindset, but these soldiers were all she had at the moment. She couldn't afford to lose them.

"This is Maerae Verdan, de-facto Commander of what remains of the 44th Invasion Platoon. How do you copy?"

She waited a moment, hoping whoever was leading the Mandalorian forces would hear her transmission and respond to her. In the meantime, she kept her eyes on the road, waiting for- What was that? In the distance, Maerae thought she spotted their target: a fat transport speeder, entirely enclosed, moving slowly on the road. But there was more: instead of the two speeder bike escorts she'd expected, there were five.

And on the fifth one, at the head of the pack, was a figure garbed in simple brown robes as opposed to a military uniform. A mixture of excitement and dread filled her: excitement at the challenge being presented, but dread at knowing she was in no state where she could excel in a prolonged fight.

Dank ferrik.

@Die Shize @Taz

 

[Taz Fett]

Taz pointed a knife-hand at the direction he wanted his men to deploy. <Let them come along this corridor, You two open up with...> Taz started to give orders when L6 suddenly chimed in on the comlink. Something about Sith forces transmitting on a close channel. As well as an unknown ship landing near by.

<Track the ship, and patch me in> he told the droid in Mando'a. He understood the meaning of the sudden contact. The Sith were near by but not yet in view. The thought that a few grunt troopers may have been able to hide from his snipers was not thrilling, a failure he would have to deal with later. For now he would see what this "commander" wanted.

"This is Taz Fett, Commander. I read you. What do you need ?" he said in basic. He did not stop his actions however. Instead continuing to give hand signals as he moved into place. He and another commando moved behind speeder just a block ahead of the expected ambush site, while the other two remained in the alley and readied their wrist rocket weapons.

Taz quickly leaned over the speeder. Using the front grip of his newly issued carbine as a support. He aimed down the center of the street. He cocked back the hammer switch, activating the accelerator function of the weapon, and waited. As the noised became louder.

@Vicc125 @Die Shize

 

[Bo'roth Nazzat]

Spoiler: Music OOC [Recurring]

Bo’roth witnessed movement, over here and over there, but did not leave his post. There was more movement, that of a transport speeder escorted by bikes. They looked military enough. Except for you. It didn’t take much to deduce that the one at the vanguard of the bikes, the one in robes, was not your average soldier. Good.

The hunt could go either way and had almost gone one way of two. There was prey here, a paltry amount, but more to come, and then it came. Bo’roth’s attention shifted to the convoy on the approach. It was the Yautkan’s way to hunt the more dangerous prey so this one found his target. Always a bigger fish.

The vision of his mask aided him in the dark but he was sure that others had the same ability. Nonetheless, he stepped off the edge of the building and landed on a ledge below, his movements covert enough in the makeshift cover of ruins. If anyone decided to shoot him, though, he would just have to shoot back.

Finding purchase at another cliff, where it would take just one more jump to reach street level, Bo’roth pressed his back against a pillar and peered down the side. He had a clear view of the street and the vehicles coming down it.

The hunter withdrew his bow from behind his back, gazed down the sight, nocked arrow to string, prepared to pull. He waited for the ambush to spring, aiming at his target. Looking at you, brown robes.


@Vicc125 @Taz

 

[Maerae Verdan]

Maerae probably should have corrected the Mandalorian. Though she was the de-facto commander of the platoon at the moment, in reality she was an acolyte out of her depth. She didn't even command the respect of a Lieutenant, much less a full blown Commander. But such things were largely unimportant at this point. Her quarry was approaching, and she didn't have time to give a detailed report on what had happened over the last few hours.

"I need able-bodied troops," Maerae said plain and simple, "my soldiers are injured and exhausted. They can provide covering fire from the height advantage we have, but they're in no condition for a straight up fight. I need fresh soldiers on my six when I jump down in front of that convoy. Can you and your men accomplish that?"

Those speeders were drawing ever closer, and the figure at the front seemed to have no intention of slowing or stopping. Brown robes, a hood that had been blown off their head by the wind. Maerae Verdan knew what this person was. A shiver ran down her spine. But she had no time to feel fear or excitement.

Her men had set up lines for rappelling down the five story building, for when the time to ambush came. Maerae limped to one, and hooked her belt to it. She was hardly in condition to rappel down a building, and charge a convoy head on, but her troops were in even worse shape. If someone was going to do this, it would have to be her.

"Weapons ready! Fire on my command!"

With one hand on the line, and another hand gripping her lightsaber, Maerae prepared to leap from the building.

@Die Shize @Taz