Kuat's Open Terrain

*There she stood, clad in her personal armor, Crystaall stared at the sky in deep anticipation of the coming battle. She had been invited, as well as the rest of the Jensaarai to take part in defending Kuat, but she knew she was the only one available to arrive and take part in the battle. She took a ride from a public transport to get to the planet and armored up on the way here. She stood about 2 clicks in front of the military base with her hands on her hips as her maroon armor glowed with the small lights that flickered on and off all across her helmet. She sighed as the readings didn't show much except that her vitals were fine. Nothing really important to note. She was packed and ready for the fight though. With her tusken rifle strapped across her back lightsabers clipped onto her belt. She had one of the DC-17 pistols she favored in her left hand while the other remained in her holster. She soon holstered the weapon and began to pace outside the base. She knew they had to stop the Mandolorians one of these days, and they had to do it sometime. She hoped this was the day or perhaps it would be the next. All she knew was that retreating was not her strong suit and she knew Mandolorians never took prisoners. She shook her head of those thoughts and focused on preparing her mind for the battle that was likely to come. Once again, she fought on the field of combat and once again she was as strong as she could ever be.

It had taken the better part of a week to get the defenses in place. Gulliver hadn't anticipated being placed in command of the defense of the Estate, but Lords Sinistra and Avius had insisted upon it rather emphatically, and so the merc found himself in a roomful of rather reluctant generals as he outlined his plans that first meeting.

"Alright, here's what I had in mind for the defense of the Estate of the Ten. There are four separate rings, the innermost perimeter of each being a phase line. The first, at fifty kilometers from the Estate, ends at phase line Alpha. This is realistically the closest we'll be able to engage the enemy, and will be seeded with both sensors and scouts. The scouts will also act as Forward Observers (FOs or Fisters, depending upon who you ask) for the artillery. Anything outside of phase line Alpha will fall under planetary control. On the southern half of Alpha, I want Sorrow deployed in a trench identical to the setup of the one around the Estate. It'll take all 15,000 to do it, and you won't have much in the way of support, but the Mandos are going to be a lot less eager to fight through that way. Additionally, we'll detach 5,000 troops from Pain to reinforce the eastern of the Alpha trench. The idea is to limit the clear avenues of approach to the Estate.

From phase line Alpha to Bravo, with phase line Bravo being at the thirty kilometer mark, is the rocket artillery killzone. Ideally, it should be bulldozed flat, providing neither cover nor concealment for the troops. The rockets will each contain 660 APAM (Anti Personnel Anti Materiel) submunitions, each with a five meter blast radius and light armor penetrative capabilities. Twelve of these rockets can blanket a square kilometer. Trust me on that one. The Drive Yards should be able to crank out the rockets and launchers needed in short order, as both are exceedingly simple.

Phase line Charlie sits at the ten kilometer mark. Between Bravo and Charlie should be a minefield. It should be liberally seeded with both antipersonnel and antivehicular mines, the antivehicular mines being 1 kiloton tac nukes, tied to repulsorlift sensors, no closer than 15 kilometers from the Estate. At that range, fallout should be minimal, and since they're not detonating in the upper atmosphere, EMP won't be a problem. Rocket fire is perfectly capable of reaching inside this zone, and some conventional artillery should be able to do so as well. Generally speaking, this will be the area in which we inflict the greatest casualties short of direct fire. On a side note, we need to be able to remotely detonate portions of the minefield to clear a path for escape.

Between Charlie and Delta, with Delta at the 1 klick mark, is the conventional artillery killzone. It should also be seeded liberally with mines, but also with obstacles. Pits, tank killers, concertina wire, the works. If they make it through here, dammit, they worked for it.

Phase line Delta marks the beginning of the free fire zone for the troops. They will be entrenched in a ring around the estate, with supply routes protected from direct fire leading back to the estate. From the ring to Delta, there should be no earthen obstacles of any kind, only the C-wire, which I can personally attest is a bitch to get through. The enemy will be forced to forward deploy sappers to deal with the wire, and they will make excellent sniper bait. I want crew served weapons every 50 meters along the trench, preferably in pillboxes to protect them from indirect fire. Overlapping fields of fire from the crew served weapons, coupled with rifle fire from infantry, will prove murderous. Regret will man the trenches and act as the reserve force. The line will have a minimum manning of about 3,000 to start with, so we can hold back the rest as reserves.

For the defense of the Estate itself, I would like to have Air Defense Artillery (ADA) sites set up near important locations, particularly our cannon and rocket batteries. The shield generators should be able to protect them from indirect fire, but one can never be too careful. As for the generators, they need to be guarded by Force users, preferably Masters and Lords. If those generators fall, we'll have no choice but to evacuate. Additional troops will be held in ready reserve around the estate, both to serve as reinforcements for the line and general security. In the event that an evacuation becomes necessary, they will be in charge of clearing a path for the evacuees, and if necessary, provide a rear guard action to allow them to escape.

End Battalion, along with the remainder of Pain, will be stationed in Kuat City, off to the west, along with our heavy armor. If the bastard manages to break through the mines and the obstacles, you guys will have a clear shot up his kilt from his rear.

Any questions?"

OOC: Note: this was drawn up on my phone, as the computer are the original post. PM with questions, comments, or concerns.

Rows of dead trees lined the road. They were silent testament to some skirmish that was long since forgotten. Suddenly, she felt it- there was something high in the sky that was fast approaching. She looked up towards the heavens, saw nothing, but she knew that something was there.

She furrowed her brow and wrapped her cloak around herself tighter. An ominous wind began to blow around her, throwing up plumes of dry dust into the air. Storms like this were common in the dry season, they were lethal and unpredictable, striking unsuspecting travelers without warning and disappearing as quickly as they appeared. Within minutes, the storm became blinding. She could no longer see where she was headed.

Hesper covered her face with her cloak. She continued to walk blindly in the storm as if she was being pulled forward by a mysterious hand.

Then, she saw it- there was something large in front of her, a building of some sort with a large, column of light spilling out of its roof. It was one of the planet's shield generators.

Hesper felt around the building until she found the door. The door screamed at her in binary, cursing in a series of beeps at the former-Jedi. Hesper scowled and touched the controls with her hand.

A soft, green glow enveloped the door's controls as the beeping stopped. Moments later, the sound of latches being open could be heard, and the door opened.

Hesper smiled and disappeared into the building.

The inside of the shield generator building was surprisingly clean and empty. Bright lights from overhead conduits lit up the metallic console that was dotted with glowing buttons of different colours. The interior was relatively roomy, and octagonal in shape with enough space to fit in the complicated machinery to power the shield generators. There were three floors above where she stood, and two more down below. The entire structure was linked together with various metal stairs and ladders. While high overhead, a tall, fenestrated dome covered the roof of the building.



Hesper said nothing and looked around.



There were people here, exactly how many, she didn't know.



She made her way to one of the corners underneath the metal staircase that lead to the upstairs level.



'It's dark here. Perfect.'



Her eyes flashed a bright shade of green as she began to channel the Force into her. Her hands began to glow. She reached out and began to pull in the space around her, as if she was tugging on an invisible, heavy rope. Visible light and sound folded itself around the former Jedi. Her form seemingly 'disappeared' from sight.



Force Cloak. It was a rare skill that she had learned years ago, one that she had perfected recently in her self-imposed exile into the barren wastes of Kuat.  It had kept her safe from harm and too many prying eyes, but she knew that she could only maintain this state if she concentrated.  The ability was a rare enough talent to possess, it was impossible for anyone to maintain it while in combat, and she didn't know how effective it would be against other Force-users.  She never had the chance to find out.  Hiding herself from others like her seemed futile.  She could sense that those approaching their world did not care much for the Force.  It was a strange feeling that unnerved her.  All that she knew was that in this state, it was very difficult for her to be seen by the naked eye.

For now, she stood where she was and waited.

A somber smile curled across the Stormtrooper’s lips as he ran his bare palm down the length of his battle helm, feeling the cold metallic surface kiss the tip of his fingers. His smile was born from the familiarity he shared with the fanatics seeking to invade his adoptive home. Like him, these Mandalorians were nothing without their armour. Each plate had comprised who the man was underneath; building a definitive layer each time another piece had been bolted to their frame. Gideon’s smile grew slightly as he thought of how similar the two opposing forces really were. Both cultures lived by a certain set of rules; one was doctrines while the other was honour. However as the list of similarities grew, so too did the differences. These men were blinded by the zealous faith of dominance, and that they were justified in committing acts of genocide. Without the guilt of slaughtering millions of lives, these men sought to bring the universe to heel. Anyone with a trace of force-sensitivity was pulled into the line of fire and gunned down before the ones they loved. That would’ve been fine with Gideon, if they had stopped there. In accordance of their god’s wishes, everyone else that got in the way had paid the ultimate price for their defiance. Innocent people were dying because of some prophet believing that he hears the words of a religious idol, and that was where Gideon had to draw the line.

Resting his arm at his side, the Stormtrooper let his gaze drop to the naked figure below. Gideon’s flesh was almost the perfect mirror of the armour he wore, a fine ivory hue broken only by the cuneiform ebon script tattooed onto his form. All along his torso were the aurebesh markings that composed several sections of the Tactica Imperialis, the tome that defined what an elite Imperial soldier truly was. Everything from proper method of warfare down to the methodology of what it meant to be one of the Imperium’s finest. Spread out across his back was the freshly inked markings of his fallen comrades, their ranks and the campaigns that resulted in their deaths followed after the listed names and serial numbers. Each was a man he had lost under his command, and as he saw that the tattoos had started to curl about his biceps, Gideon wondered if he would have enough room upon his body to record the fallen of Kuat. Letting a sigh slip through his lips, the soldier began to prepare for the day ahead, as he would be needed at the front as soon as the Mandalorians had made their transit into the system.

Slipping his feet into the black body glove, the Stormtrooper slowly began piecing himself together. His alabaster flesh had become shrouded by the ebon hue of his environment suit, and the armourweave underlay had supplemented his muscular frame. While he was not as physically imposing as his new lord and master, Gideon’s strengths dwelled in a different area entirely. Feeling the suit cling to his flesh like a second layer of skin, the Stormtrooper cleared his mind. He had little time to stand about and contemplate his strengths and weaknesses. Slipping into the abdomen portion of his armour and fitting it into place, Gideon had begun softly spouting paraphrased quotations from the sections inked into his flesh. His voice, though laden with the traditional Imperial dialect, had taken on a soft and almost loving hue. “I honour my wargear, as I honour those I serve.” His thighs had become encased in the duraplast plates as he spoke, slipping into the greaves soon after. “I am their sword in the darkness, charged to strike down all whom seek to depose those whom I serve.” As his greaves were locked in place, the Stormtrooper began stripping the breastplate from the arming rack standing vigilant before him. “I am the shield of the Empire, charged with the defense of those that cannot protect themselves. For through my shining example, they shall strive to become strong.” With the catechism spilling from his lips, Gideon’s torso had been embraced by his armour and sealed into place The Stormtrooper silently scoffed at the words he had spoken, for there was a time when he believed such a statement was true. The strong had only become strong because they were worthy of breaking the moulding their feeble minds had placed upon themselves. There was only one place in the galaxy for the weak and those blinded by faith, and that place was found at the monomolecular edge of his knife or at the tip of his blaster. Finishing the ritualized litany of arming, Gideon removed himself from the menacing shadow of the arming rack. Save for his helm, the Stormtrooper had felt complete.

What remained upon the arming racks were signifying marks that would showcase his proper station. An additional pauldron of ebony and ivory hung just below his battle helm, an item that was in use during the days of the Old Republic and the war that bought about the rise of the Empire. As there was no standardization in the usage of these ancient relics to signify his rank, Gideon had gone the personalized route. It was double sided and stretched across his chest just above his pectorals, giving him an added bonus of several breast bound pouches in which to store extra ammunition and his large combat blade. As the final piece of his wargear became the only thing left upon the rack, Gideon moved over to the mirror and began spot checking himself for any error in the assembly. Nothing but perfection stared back at him through the crystallized pane of glass, and such a marvelous sight had brought a genuine smile to his lips. He was whole again, and his entire body had finally stopped with the dermal tremors of being naked.

The Stormtrooper retained that smile as he donned his battle helm; letting the familiar wash of crimson light bathe the helm’s interior. As soon as the power supply had been connected, man had become one with the machine. Taking in a deep breath of suit recycled air, Gideon had begun the lengthy process of arming himself for combat. Pulling his favoured ARC-9965 rifle from the footlocker, he began running a last minute check over the combat capabilities of his weapon. Extending the stock and wirelessly connecting the scope with his HUD, Gideon slung the weapon upon the naked armour rack and began filling his pouches with several power paks. The grenades and secondary weapons had come next; a biometrically sealed thermal detonator and his sidearm of choice soon adorned his body. In addition to his usual loadout, the stormtrooper had chosen to take a second sidearm. It was a small token of respect from the newly promoted Captain of the Avenger, an item he said was personally given to him by an infamous Imperial Grand Moff. The disruptor pistol was tiny in comparison to the standard light repeating sidearm he was used too, but as the captain had assured him it would pack the punch needed to drop a Mandalorian supercommando dead in his tracks. Shaking his head slightly as he dropped the weapon into its appropriate holster, Colonel Raith grabbed his primary weapon and made for the hangar. He had wasted enough time as it was, standing alone within the solace of the armoury and proceeding with an outdated and frankly unneeded ritual.

The sounds of his boots kissing the tiled floor echoed within his helmet as he surged towards the hangar bay, though they were easily swiped aside as the morning’s preparations had begun. Heavy equipment and armoured columns had begun transferring from the estate to the forward operating bases located on the plains outside the miniature fortress city. The smile he had earlier faded as he saw his men loading into the bellies of some modernized Larty gunships. His time to command the two regiments of highly trained combat operatives had come, and that was no smiling matter. Crossing the breadth of the titanic hangar bay, the Stormtrooper had found his command squad resting within the hold of one of the LAAT/i gunship’s near the centre of the flight deck. Some were standing about, double checking that their armour had been fitted correctly while others had begun some minor theoretical combat drills. When he had reached their position, the Colonel had noted that they were discussing the chances of playing the heavy Calvary to the forces tasked with retaking the city, should that be the Mandalorian beach head. “Commander on deck!” One of them yelled as soon as their visor had turned his way. Gideon nodded for them to stand easy as he came to stand before them. He nodded in appreciation of each of the men snapping a quick salute before returning to the tasks they had been engaged with before he had arrived.

“Alright boys. We know that the Mandalorians are here, and that the Navy is doing all they can to cause chaos before the lines are broken. Their sacrifices shall not be in vain, as we shall take up the torch and carry it towards victory. In the void, they may have the advantage of massive technological terrors. But here…” He said pointing at the flight deck and the ground underneath with a stabbing gesture. “Upon this very soil we shall prove that their Gods were wrong to sanction this crusade. That we, the righteous and faithless few stand vindicated in our deeds as we cast them into the darkest pits of hell.” Gideon paused only to take in a mouthful of recycled air, before continuing on. “They think we’ll lay down our burdens so that we may follow in Carida’s path, let them simply destroy the planet while we do nothing. I don’t know about you soldiers, but last I checked this world was Kuat, not Ryloth. We won’t lie down without a fight, am I right troopers?” A resounding roar of enthusiasm filled his aural dampeners, only to be reutned by a grunt of approval. “Damn right I am. Now let’s prove to these Bucket Schutta’s the folly of their ways. Dismissed!”

Making his way into the hold of the Larty gunship, Gideon switched his suit’s internal communicator over to the generalized channel shared between all men adorned in the alabaster plate of the Stormtrooper. All you greenhorns who wanted to see Mandalorian’s up close, today, is your lucky day. And with that said, the Larty Gunship dusted off the flight deck and soared out into untamed wilds about the estate. There he would see to the positioning of his men and meet up with Commander Volgin at their assigned sector.