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Delta73 last won the day on March 30 2019

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About Delta73

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  1. Delta’s eyes narrowed as the EOD team disabled the next placed trap, holding the woman in front of him like a shield of mandalorian iron and tender flesh. Elements of Lima One and Hotel Two were advancing in behind him, taking cover before letting the next line advance, teams of four branching out to clear adjacent tunnels as they wound their way towards the power generator. When the passageways began to expand out into a vast complex, Delta motioned to his team. It was important to avoid being flanked especially while in the heart of the enemy encampment, the generator was close and so it was time to switch tactics. He let him men pass in front of him as they advanced, spreading out into fireteams to cover the vast debris filled space. He motioned to Landgraf, and the female took the captive mandalorian in tow, her blaster rifle in place at the back of the woman’s head. If ever there would be an ambush it would be here. There had been enough time to set something elaborate up even. He let the dull red glow of his ‘T’ visor survey the stubborn mandalorian as he passed the woman over. <”I am Mandalorian, you can trust or not. You die uselessly or not. You have showed little honour or desire to be redeemed. Mock as you will. You can be saved or you cannot. You and yours can attack my men, kill a few then be disgraced. I care not. Your body will remain warm enough after the blaster discharges. Salvation and honour exists, but only for the victor. You have a choice, now make it.”> He motioned to Landgraf who grinned beneath her helmet biting off a laugh at her commanding officer. She was not used to seeing him so causally cruel. But the Ishi Tib Marines were looking for spoils. The laugh was soft but vicious as the heavy support company entered the cave, their heavy weapons wishing to be used against anything but moonfall. Lima One, the Devil Hounds were finally on location and they were eager for combat. The company had sustained heavy casualties, but they were a united enough force to be effective. And the objective was very close. Delta looked back at the Mandalorian then to his advancing companies.
  2. The tunnel interior was thick with dust kicked up by recently fired munitions, traps, and the general explosive nature of coruscant itself after a moonfall. The dust made thick paste of the exposed blood that had covered Delta’s chest, covering most of the insignia that emblazoned almost every surface with the crooked spider of the God King of the Sith with thick red rust. The dust coated his faceplate and visor enough that he had to pause and pull an aide bandage from his belt pouch and thoroughly scrub over the ‘T’ visor to remove the dust as it began to seriously hinder his ability to see in the low light of the tunnels. A few of the Marines from Hotel two, keeping a judicious distance behind dimly illuminated the area in front of them with their weapon mounted lights. They pushed on a few meters until the woman froze and finally spoke. He slackened his pressure on her back and gestured behind him for one of the approaching Lima One commandos, whose voices he could hear echoing down behind him. His Mandalorian was rusty and antiquated as he responded, his voice rasping out of the mic grill of his helmet that was partially coated in the sticky paste of bloody dust. <”We come to restore order and to rebuild.”> He harkened back to the Mandalorian religion, one that had been drilled into him with prejudice by his ARC trainers. <”We cannot allow this world to lay in the arms of Arasuum. Or to lie fallow. This is the capital of the Galaxy, it should be the shining city, not a wasteland.”> He referenced the God of sloth, of whom the crusaders were very likely to despise as much as he. It was a gamble at finding rapport with the woman, but it was worth the shot. “Captain, Langraf and strike group three reporting sir.” Delta smiled as the voice boomed down the tunnel behind him. He held up a hand and pointed to the trip mine as he brought the mandalorian woman and himself backwards away from any blast as two of his soldiers went to work, checking the monofilament, then setting a directional charge against the exposed mine before retreating back behind the corner before the charge safely detonated the mine. Delta nodded his thanks to the EOD crew and began to push the woman in front of him again while his troops formed an advancing cover behind him. There were likely very many more traps ahead. <”Girl it does no one any good to die for no reason. The forces of the Sith are overwhelming, I promise there will be no reprisals if your men decided they wanted to be on the winning side.”>
  3. Primary Account: Delta73 Discord: Scout#5653 Real First Name: Timothy Active Characters: Delta73, Sandy Sarna, Raven Zinthos, Rose Cariadus, Beth Andromina
  4. “Hotel Two this is Lima One command. Hold fast until command elements reach the from with a guide.” Delta hissed under his breath a trail of heavy curses after he heard her retort. He knelt heavily on her chest and then reached forward and grabbing the woman’s helmet right below the ‘T’ visor, ripped the external comm until mic from where it was usually set. There was no reason to allow this woman to give his enemies any additional support while in captivity. He quickly searched her for weapons, discarded those he found, then firmly secured her hands behind her with binders handed to him from a helpful Ishi Tib marine. The squid like humanoid appeared to be about to say something quite brilliant when a small finger sized chunk of permacrete rocketed through the top of his duraplast helmet and struck him dead on the spot. Another hapless victim of moonfall. Delta closed his eyes for a moment as he looked away back to his prisoner. “Now.” His voice was soft but carried well due his helmet’s blood spattered speaker projectors. “Then you will show us where the traps are yourself.” He tossed the mandalorian over his shoulder and strode down the tunnel to the front lines. As he walked his earpiece lit up with a broken chatter on Lima comms. “Lima one command, this is Lima three actual.” Lieutenant Haylee Langraf. The commanding officer of strike group three, assigned with heavy fire support in the Lima One company. His smile could be heard over the comm as he replied. “Lima three status?” She had been on the Holofernes with him over Kuat and Dark Sun. She was good, and had been an easy pick for leadership. “Casualties high, enroute to objective. Ten minutes out.” He sighed. It was good news at least. “Understood, dispatch a medical specialist to the following coordinates then rendezvous with elements of Hotel Two at cave entrance. We are clearing a path for you. Copy?” The voice was tired but understanding. “Solid copy boss. See you in fifteen.” Perhaps the medical teams would be in time for Frostwin. Perhaps not. He didn’t have time to think as he put the Mandalorian down in front of him as they arrived to where the first trap had been set off. He kept one hand on her binders and lay the barrel of his blaster along her thin shoulder. Walking her in front of him like a mobile shield. “Now walk. If any of my men behind me get hit, I will take you apart piece by piece. Sold Copy?”
  5. Completely agree Brendo. I was a bit differential about the last episode, but I have a lot of hope!
  6. The cover was running out quick, the fallen buildings smoothing down to mere broken hedges of duracrete and shattered transparisteel. With a glance that was amplified by the HUD buried in his helmets visor, he could see the first sections of the Isihi Tib marines forming up at the tunnel’s entrance. He continued his run began to close on the ledge of one of the looming sideways canted buildings, he looked left, then right, then back to where the elements of Hotel Two were forming up into four man teams for a clearing advance into whatever awaited them below the surface of the hellscape that had once been beautiful towers that stretched for miles. Packed with life, families, and business. Delta steadied his breathing from the sprint, gulping down a lungful of stale air as he heard a commotion above and in front of him. His head snapped up searching until he saw a small orb drop right in the midst of a squad sized unit of Marines who shouted and began to run but were overtaken with the detonation that left them as a writhing pile of chunked meat. Their inhuman screams filled his ears as he switched away from their comm set. Delta’s eyes spotted the mandalorian as she tried to toss another but was struck by a blur of stone from the sky. The Mandalorian and her grenade pitched over the ledge into the mass of troops. The Mandalorian herself landed with a decisive crunch on the fractured wall in front of Delta While the grenade went off behind it, likely snuffing out a few more amphibious lives. It’s explosion arced debris all over the place, scattering a mess of rocks and dirt over Delta as he ran full force into the wall below the Mandalorian. His armour crunched and he reached up above him and snagged her arm before yanking to pull her to the ground beside him. She was an asset, and there was no use in leaving her fate to the vengeful Isihi Tib. He spoke in instinct that language that Dred Priest had beaten into him in the ARC training a century before. He kept his helmet close to hers. Almost Intimate. As he kept the barrel of his blaster carbine firmly underneath her chin. “Meg cuyir gar aka?” Meg hut'uun lay o'r?” What is your mission? What traps lay for us? He kept the injured woman pinned beneath him as his questions rasped out of his helmet's projection speakers. The blood from Frostwin still splattered over his arms, and now coating the woman's chest armour with the slurry of dust and coagulating blood. He switched to his unit comms with Hotel Two as he waited for the woman to speak in return. "Hotel Two Status?" But the sound of his voice echoed from the bloody mess of meat behind him that had been Hotel Two's command unit. Spast
  7. Welcome back jordan! Good to have you,
  8. Delta and his company pushed off in a mighty rush, slightly in front of the Marines as they exited their pods. The complete lack of intensive fire from the Mandalorians gave Delta some pause until a stream of crimson laser bolts began to light up the ground in front of him and behind him. Rocks kicked up by the fluctuating gravity from the moonfall and shattered by the crimson rain pinged off his armour as another wave of red rose up to meet the mandalorians in answer from the charging marines. Fire and Advance. A dash of a dozen meters, then cover behind scant rocks and covering fire for those charging next. Some smoke grenades went off and up ahead and Delta could hear a startled grunt and yell from his Lima comms. Frostwin beside him seemed to stumble and fell to his knees before falling into a shallow crater. No laser trail. Spast The wave of melancholy hit Delta like whatever unseen sniper bolt had just tagged Frostwin. But training took control of limbs left numb by the shock of sadness that had just washed over him. He turned his sprint to his side and grabbing the protruding legs of his friend, he pitched the man fully into the crater, tossing his blaster pistol into the hole as well before he jumped in himself. He could feel more than hear the crunch of Tares Blacktorin jumping in beside him. Ducking her helmet low to keep cover in the shallow crater that was ringed by debris and the rusted spiky thorns of exposed durasteel duracrete reinforcements. “I can get up, stop it Tares, I can ge-” Frostwin had taken off his helmet to clear his visor as Blacktorin shouted for him to lie still. “No I just trippe-” Blood began to drip out of his mouth in a singular stream that turned into red froth on the edges of his mouth. The man’s eyes drifted down to where Tares was pushing on his armour, seeing the cracked and busted plates that covered his stomach he let out a curse then almost instantaneously, his head lolled to the side. Blood dripping freely from his mouth to pool in his lap. Tares strangled back a cry as her hands were soaked by the sudden downpour of blood. “Release pressure for a moment so I can expose the wound. Break out your medipack. Now” Delta could hear nothing but the pounding of his heart in his ears and the vibration of the long dagger in his hand that had been activated from its withdrawal from its enclosing sheath. He took a deep breath that tasted like dust and retrohaled air and flicked the switch on the back of the blade’s handle. The vibrating immediately ceased, stifling the danger that a slight slip might encounter on Frostwin’s life. With another inhale of stale air, he sliced the jumpsuit under the man’s armour from beltline to neckline. He pulled away the jumpsuit and burned, cracked plastoid and let another curse spill out of his mouth. Burned and blackened guts poked out from a torn and ugly hole that had been the man’s stomach. Kriff Blacktorin beside him also cursed as she ducked back down in the hollow of the crater as the sounds of the advancing Marine from Hotel Two thundered by them. He had been foolish, putting themselves out in the open like that, and now his good friend had paid, or was paying the price. The reading on Delta’s HUD still showed a weak and thready pulse, which told him that Frostwin had a chance. “HypoSyringe of bacta, and three clotting agents now.” Bloody hands pressed the implements into his, and Delta set to work as the charge of Hotel Two continued. A body pitched over the side of the crater, landing with a crack of bone on duracrete next to Blacktorin who yelped in terror. Delta sat undisturbed by the commotion as he emptied the hyposyringe and powdered clotting agents into the guts of his friend. He took a large section of gauze and began to pack it in 'z' strips into the wound. Careful to not jostle the man's organs too much. He wrapped the wound then waved Blacktorin to him. With the bacta and dressing applied there was little Delta could do but take his revenge. He looked into her 'T' visor and he grabbed her shoulder armour firmly. Shaking her so that she would remember the message. He kept the regret out of his voice and spoke sternly to the girl that had accompanied him for nearly a decade. “Apply pressure. Stay with him. I’ll be back little love.” He slapped the top of Blacktorin’s helmet, leaving a dusty red handprint before he grabbed the fallen marine’s rifle which was still grasped in twitching hands and charged himself out of the makeshift foxhole. The Marines themselves, having charged and taken cover on the edges of the caves, began to concentrate fire on what they thought may be the sniper’s nest and the large man in armour who was holding the line single handedly. Delta knelt and let a stream of bolts depart the rifle towards the large man before he continued his sprint towards the caves.
  9. A solitary curse from Frostwin preordained a whole stream of curses that even made Delta’s eyebrows raise half a centimeter. “Flares dispatched from enemy positions, multiple flares fired from multiple positions. Enemies confirmed dug in.” Frostwin’s rough voice grated through the internal speakers of Delta’s helmet, as the older man crawled back inside shaking his macrobinoculars to ward off the majority of the moonfall dust that was sticking to anything with any amount of electrical charge. Delta could feel it bunching at the seams of his suit and if he tried to brush it off the blasted dust would just stick to the fingers of his gloves instead. Delta growled as his grey blue eyes watched the command view map projected at the side of his HUD that was being routed down from the signal corps to the general channel. Those Marines were coming, but not nearly fast enough. He looked back at Frostwin and Blacktorin who were looking out of their makeshift cave with as much concern as could be shown from immovable ‘T’ shaped visors. Delta extended his hand again for the cleaned Macros’ and when he had received them, he whispered a prayer and crawled back out next to the prepositioned antenna. He set the Macrobinoculars down beside him on the bare duracrete and while keeping himself ducked down behind the fallen rubble scrabbled at his wrist mounted datapad. He found the external cable and pulled it from its sheathing and with a yank he pulled out the slack from the small compartment. He reached above him to the mounted antenna and pushed the cord into its reciever, re-connecting him to the main communications channel. He thumbed his receiver to another command channel that was labelled for the Ishi Tib Marine Company. His HUD flashed the channels until he landed on the right one. Channel 33-1. Coded. Encrypt: ON “Hotel Two, Lima One.” Static blasted his ears as his comm transmitter found its repeater on the overhead Victory Star Destroyer. A solid tone sounded then static again. A muffled voice then responded. “Go for Hotel Two command.” Delta kept crouched next to the fallen rubble that made the entrance of the cave as he brought the Macros’ to his visor. “Your drop zone is in a possible killzone, be wary for incoming fire on landing. You will be dropping right on my position. Signal Lima One.” The voice sounded exasperated. “Hotel One copies, can’t you clear a path Sunner?” Delta felt his blood pressure rise at the slight from the Sith captain on the other side of the comm line, but he kept his voice cool and steady. “See you in thirty se-” The rock right next to Delta’s face suddenly exploded in molten fragments that bit under his helmet’s collar. Though doing no deadly damage the sudden sharp pain caused the clone commando to drop the macrobinoculars and fall flat on his face. Was that energy discharge? No blaster trail. But it was no micrometeor, he had seen a moonfall some kilometer away, but no corresponding impacts next to him. He chalked it up to a missed blaster shot. It was better to be safe, and his position was now illuminated with flares that told every type of sniper where enemies were hiding. Perhaps he hadn’t seen the shot. But the fading pain in his neck told him all he needed to know. Micrometeors didn’t melt stone into chunks like that. He cursed and pulled his blaster pistol from its leather holster, beckoning to his two officers. He flipped comms back to Lima’s subchannel with a single button press. “Possible snipers, as soon as the drop pods hit, we move with them.” Small explosions echoed all around him as a dust storm was kicked up by the two dozen drop pods landing on the uneven ground. With the whipping dust obscuring anything three meters in front of them, the trio of Lima One command staff sprinted from their hiding towards the next patch of tumbled rubble in the direction of the Glory Bound.
  10. The rangefinder in his HUD continued to stutter between somewhere like a kilometer and any other number of meters. The IR reflector was hitting the massive amount of dust kicked up by moonfall and giving all kinds of off readings. A direct assault was simple suicide, so Delta’s crew were slowly moving from one crater to the next out of the direct fall of the meteroic dust and fragments. The noise was deafening, but with the impact of another rain of pebble sized rocks and dust that pinged off his armour it was time to get back under cover before larger chunks hit. With a grunt, Delta shoved the small Tares under a fallen duracrete slab the thickness of a landspeeder and he and Frostwin ducked underneath themselves. The roar of sound and explosive impacts of duracrete on duracrete forced Delta to turn down his noise amplifiers in his helmet. Muffling the sounds of the environment and filling his helmet speakers with the sounds of static filled comms. The length of time it had taken to even move less than a klick in moonfall was preposterous. They could have just sprinted the two kilometers to the objective but if anyone had set up an E-web they would be running straight into a killzone the size of a swoop track. Better, if significantly slower, to move on an angle towards the downed skyscrapers near it. Then pick their way when more units had joined them. Hopefully the delay wouldn’t disappoint the dark lord all too much. Tares groaned, which interrupted the external comms with an override from their internal comm net. She had been smacked with a bit of moonfall a few minutes before and was still in significant pain. “Spast that hurt.” Came her soft pained voice as she flexed her bruised shoulder. The armoured pauldron had softened the blow of some small falling duracrete, put it was very likely she had suffered some significant ligament strain or tearage from the blow. Moonfall was deadly, and Delta continued to curse the drop zone they had received from command. Lima One was scattered all over this side of moonfall, and having made several hastily constructed squads, as far as Delta could hear through the static filled comms they were also heading towards the objective. Still too far to hook up with his small three man unit, but it was still enough for morale to know that at least some of his unit had made it groundside and were making their way to him. “Commander, possible movement near objective. Cluster of downed ‘scrapers.” Frostwin swore then ducked back into the cover of the duracrete slab. “Definite contacts, squad strength.” Frostwin set his macrobinoculars down on his lap and pulled a soft cloth from his belt pouch to wipe at the lense, while Delta crawled over to him and extended the comm link antenna from behind his helmet. A new voice flooded his ears from Sith TAC comm. “-ima-one Command from Queen Actual.” Delta gulped down a breath of dust smelling air. “Go for command.” “Supply drop for you from Queen Actual with Marine company Hotel-Two.” Ishi Tibs? They were sending a bunch of amphibians into this dusty hellhole? “Drop them outside of the current moonfall, my location is outside current orbital disintegration, but still heavily impacted, there are enemy contacts on location of objective. Possibly dug in.” “Copy, Leave your antenna in location and a supply and marines drop will be on you momentarily. Mark enemy location with flares. Also Queen actual has a favour to ask.” “Anything.” “...She wants to know if she is pretty.” Tares stopped adjusting her shoulder and Frostwin stifled back a laugh. “God damned right shes pretty, most gorgeous woman I've ever seen, but the fur suit her better.” Hopefully the honesty wouldn’t bring a turbolaser strike instead of marines. He cut communication and pulled the magnetic attachment off the back of his helmet. He slapped it onto the durasteel rebar next to the entrance of their temporary shelter. Turning to the two others he tapped the side of his helmet. “Ammo check. We will need to hold this position until the marines arrive. Then we will begin assault.” He pulled his DC-17s out of its holster and checked the readout. Fifteen shots with its current charge and two more magazines in his belt. Tares and Frostwin were much the same, except Tares had more ammunition since her sidearm was an older model E-11 carbine. No grenades for any of them, But Delta did have his flare gun. “Let’s begin.” He leveled the flare gun to where Frostwin indicated. Adjusted for lob and wind conditions then depressed the trigger. The white hot projectile rocketed into the air where it burst over the Glory Bound with blinding red light.
  11. The prow of the Victory II star destroyer Hellkite pushed through the thick atmosphere of the destroyed city world. Though the HellKite was made for atmospheric entry in order to cover mass landings of imperial troops, this push was to cover the insertion of special operations company Lima-One. The Cŵn Annwn, the Devil Hounds of the Spider. Nestled under the curving hull, the dropships of Lima-One detached. Heralded by a single bombardment to soften the defenses of the entrenched mandalorians, the dropships sped through the heady atmosphere like a hundred shooting stars. Delta maintained his breathing and glanced at the three other members of his command drop pod. Frostwin glanced back and grimaced, they both had been through enough and these drop pods were just the latest in the things that could go horribly wrong. Frostwin had come over to Delta’s attachment from the St Cathryne during the reconstruction of the Black Sun military, it had been voluntary. And Delta couldn’t help but regret the hell he was putting his men and women through. Once more into the line of fire. Once more into hell. The hull of the drop pod shuttered and a solid sound of something hitting the outside of the pod reverberated through the cramped quarters. The young woman to his left in the pod yelped at the sound and gripped her crash webbing in anticipation of what she thought would be impact groundside. The altimeter on Delta’s green HUD was still spinning towards zero but they were far from it, and now the impacts were becoming constant. Either they had run into a meteor fall from Hesperidium, or Hellkite had broken up overhead, or- The impacts became a shriek and tearing of metal and a bright flare of light punctured from the centre of the pod to blast out of the roof. Mass Drivers! Delta screamed a curse and her could feel his adrenaline kick in. Battle awareness, long trained, moved his arms and hands without thought or instruction. He pulled the command lever beside him and the pod broke apart midair. He exhaled sharply as the crash webbing ripped away like paper and his hands connected to his belt, hitting the jump controls as he moved his head from left to right scanning for his podmates. Tares Blacktorin and Gerald Frostwin were tumbling about like so many discarded sheets of flimsi as they struggled to right themselves in the horrid fall from 30,000 feet. He let his breathing stabilize and he blinked three times rapidly for the HUD controls to come to life. He selected admin controls over his podmates and activated them with another blink. Thankful at least for their integrated suits. - Stabilize - His overarching command stopped their suits terrible spins and rapidly fired their repulsor jets, slowing their decent enough so that they could regain control. Their voices came through the comm static in bursts, mostly expletives until he switched to Sith Guard frequency to hear what was happening. Unexpected resistance. And a whole lot of it. He switched back to Lima One command comms. “Blacktorin, Frostwin, prepare for heavy resistance on the ground. Lima One’s been split up. Weapon drop is at least 8 hours out due to combat. We use what we drop with." “Uh sir-” Came Blacktorin’s young voice, which did little to calm Delta’s nerves. “Our infantry weapons were in that damned pod.” That was true enough. And now Lima-One’s command unit was going to land far from allied reinforcement with naught but sidearms and survival packs. In a kriffing shitshow. “That’s true Tares, looks like from trajectory it's only two klicks to Group five. Over hostile territory. Easier than the kessel run at least.” Firing the last of their repulsor packs, they landed in a smoking crater near the main objective, a hole that led to a power generator. It was still some kilometers away, and it was time to get going.
  12. - The hazy lights of Coruscant filled the expansive bubble of Delta'scockpit viewport, almost drowning out the bright greens of the forward projected HUD on the viewport itself. He rolled his clear dark eyes and let out a sigh that triggered the microphone inside his helmet. He reached up and without looking twisted a red knob to its brightest settings and the HUD flared back into focus. “Don’t blast us with static Delta, I’m just liable to just drop a Proton bomb if you blow my sensitive ears out again.” Laughter echoed through his headset in response to the Weapons officer behind him. A friendly enough clone from the fortieth pod in cycle from Delta’s own. Younger, with a different training protocol that stressed rapid preparation instead of disciplined soldiering. Jokes aside, corporal FC-2254-LL2 was likely to do just what he had promised. Delta had heard of it. Undisciplined soldiers were always trouble, and these new rapid breed clones were the most trouble of all. He grimaced under his helmet, thinking of how little they must have learned in the two years from embryo to grown man, At least Delta was only double aging, he was what? Twelve years old now? He suppressed the thoughts that came with that and glanced back down at his control board. Right in time for the ARC-170-AO to glide its nose into the thickening mesosphere. The control yoke shuddered under his black gloved palms, his eyes scanned his control panels as he depressed the yoke and brought the large modified starfighter towards ground. The thick currents of the Coruscanti atmosphere pulled at every trailing edge of the bulky airframe, buffeting the ship in a mayhem of directions. The harsh sound of static filled his headset as the last member of the crew, the young Jedi Apprentice chimed in her own laughter. Delta grinned in response, causing the other clone to moan his own response of laughter. It was time to dive. - There was no laughter this time. Delta looked around the command cabin of the dropship as the Hellkite emerged with the Sith Grand Imperial fleet. This was a very different coruscant then the last he had visited. He stood and grabbed the handle above him. His voice was hoarse as he barked his order to his command over the comms embedded in every mask like helmet. “Buckle up, check your partner’s jump pack, check your blasters, weapons, we drop as soon as the fleet commander clears a way for us. You bastards ready?” The cheer strained his ears but he grinned from ear to ear as he checked his companion’s gear. -
  13. Delta73


    “Well welcome Bakra.” Delta raised the mug of ale still clenched in his fist in a slight salute. “Did you fight against the Imperial Remnant when they took Nar Shaddaa from the hutts or are your only commitments for cash?” He chided a laugh and took a long drain from the cup before setting it back down and looking thoughtfully at the other man. “It is of no matter, the Black Sun has folded into a non military group so I took my troops and came here. I have had a long standing working relationship with the Dark Lord so I was welcomed to some extent.” He adjusted his collar and checked at his split lip with the dab of a finger. “And what skills do you bring to the Sith Navy?”
  14. Delta73


    “They respect me because they must, I have never lead them wrong, not in two decades.” Delta gestured to the other man to have a seat. “I am Delta73, at your service. Tell me what warrants your presence among the forces of the Sith Lords?” His name was famous, the name that had sunk cloud city, killed a million civilians at Alderaani Towers at Coruscant, and slaughtered the Naboo Royal family. He was curious who this mercenary was and what had brought him into this service. He took another long sip from the ale and looked back up at Bakra
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