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Kain studied the short Mandalorian in the span between heartbeats when she leveled her weapon at him. A quick verification identified her as she broadcast her credentials, as well as the rest of the Mandalorians present. They had thrown their lot in with the Imperials, an unexpected move given recent galactic events. He was cutting it close, but the time for smoke and mirrors was quickly drawing to a close. However, he still had one last card to play, a gambit for time. He might lose this battle, but he would win the war, and not one of them would knew what hit them in the coming storm. Using the open comms ports on her helmet, Kain fed the girl who had fashioned herself Mand'alor data that would cause her to pause. In rapid succession, each and every person in the crowd around Terra had their identification information fed through her HUD's target tracking programs. It was not a malicious attack, merely a benign feed of information. He wanted Terra to know their names. And also that each of them had a small bomb surgically implanted in their necks, set to go off if Kain suddenly became inoperable. The bombs were, of course, nonexistant. But the data he fed her was masterfully crafted, and the only real way to tell if the crowd really was set to explode would be to surgically inspect them. Pawns bluffing as knights and rooks, really, but he only needed a moment longer...

Chaos erupted out of the ground in the form of scavenged battle droids repurposed by Kain for his schemes. There seemed to be little in the way of coordination or anything resembling a directed push towards an objective, which ran contrary to the profile on HVT-1, but maybe blocking communications galaxy wide had pushed him to the edge of his limits in terms of processing power. Up above, their air support was engaged in its own sortie against enemy fighters. The initial confusion of the attack had claimed several casualties, but once the element of surprise was lost the stormtroopers were able to quickly reform behind cover and fire directed counter volleys. Naitan’s squad was not at all subtly keeping him off of the fire line, and rather than disrupt their formation he shouldered his rifle and drew his EC-17 while monitoring his scanner and calling out targets. Getting people killed over a tantrum about getting benched would prove nothing except that he didn’t belong. The attack was further blunted by the arrival of a small force of Mandalorian mercenaries. Command hadn’t hired them, but they were likely Protectors desperately trying to salvage their reputation after the terror attack on Coruscant by a Mandalorian death cult. It seemed like his homeworld couldn’t make it through a year without some sort of terrorist attack or full scale battle.