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Raid on Chief Kabacca
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Star Wars: Episode VIII: Binds of Tyranny Forum Index » Kashyyyk » Raid on Chief Kabacca
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Ams Jendob
CMAC Battlemaster

Joined: 09 Jan 2006
Posts: 8644
Location: Coruscant

 Post Posted: Sat, October 25th 2008 10:12pm    Post subject: Raid on Chief Kabacca
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124 Wookiee Berserkers

17 Infantry Troopers

Chief Kabacca
6 Lookouts
12 Personal Bodyguard Troopers
21 Militia Guards

The home of Chief Kabacca is accessible only by three catwalk bridges. A pair of lookouts is stationed 200 meters from the chief's home on each bridge.

The Rebel Alliance maintains a small recon outpost, three hundred meters south of the Chief's residence. Maintained with the blessings of the Chief, the outpost uses native structures so as not to intrude on the Wookiee villa.

But danger lurks in the forest, and a blood feud is about to re-erupt...

Raid party is 122 meters from Kabacca's residence
Rebel assault team is wounded and 30 meters from Rebel observation party
25 Berserkers killed
7 Wounded Berserkers
Tvojjerick wounded

One lookout dead
Two Troopers

Supreme Commander of the Central and Southern Galactic Segments, Director of Imperial Intelligence

Galaxy Map|Board and RPG Rules|Game Guide

"The Preying Mantis often sizes up a potential mate while wearing too much eyeliner..." - Velora

"You are so cool, you make James Bond proud..." - My Dad... sarcastically. Don't try to juggle cutlery. :p

Last edited by Ams Jendob on Thu, January 15th 2009 06:46pm; edited 3 times in total
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Ams Jendob
CMAC Battlemaster

Joined: 09 Jan 2006
Posts: 8644
Location: Coruscant

 Post Posted: Sun, December 14th 2008 08:57pm    Post subject:
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Turn 1
The assault began with lightning speed. The jetpacks worn by Tvojjerick and the squad of Berserkers from Korrokrrayo Company split through the animal shrieks, hoots, and howls of the Kashyyyk night. Though Kabacca had some Berserkers in his tribe, they didn't approach like this. The lookouts raised their bowcasters and howled a challenge.

Finally, the attackers came into view. With no reply to their challenge, the lookouts opened fire. The first green bolt flew wide, but the blast from the second lookout struck a Berserker in his side. He yowled in pain and twirled the wicked-looking Ryyk blade, continuing to jet in.

At the Rebel observation post, the small watch group stared in awe and shock. Moments before, they'd been enjoying the balmy Kashyyyk night. The group sergeant had even been snapping holos of the panorama.

But now, the electrobinoculars were looking at the spectacle of Tvojjerick's troops charging at the lookouts. One of the attackers took an explosive quarrel to the head, and fell from view. Another took a hit in the chest--apparently fatal, since that Wookiee dropped away too. "What the hell is going on?"

"Can't we do anything?" asked a lance corporal. She'd just been transferred in; one of the fresh-faced eager Rebels who wanted to see the Galaxy and beat down tyranny.

But the sergeant shook his head. "No. We don't know what it's about, or what's even going on. It may even be some kind of ritual... though I doubt it."

Back on the lookout post, the situation went beyond mere curiosity. The lookouts were firing frantically into the remaining Berserkers. A blast grazed Tvojjerick's arm, and another struck his thigh.

But despite the screen of defensive fire, the Berserkers were on top of the lookouts now. One let out a warning call, backing down the catwalk and firing. The other stood resolute, pumping emerald bolts out of his weapon as the raiding party swarmed him. He shot one of the wounded assailants in the gut, knocking the armored soldier over the catwalk railing and into the Shadowlands below. He wouldn't be coming back up.

Another bolt leaped from the bowcaster. It struck another soldier through his shoulder and hit the jetpack. The Wookiee shot straight upward, his Ryyk blades centimeters from his shooter. He went up several dozen meters, like a howling, snarling comet... then exploded into a grisly fireball.

But his cohort thrust forward with his own blades, and impaled the lookout. He withdrew his blade, shining with fresh blood. The rest of the assault team landed on the platform as the remaining lookout backpedaled. Guards poured out of the main house, bowcasters in hand.

The Rebels watched with horror at the carnage. "Something's wrong. Very wrong..." muttered a private. He clicked off the safety on his rifle.

Then his head and left forearm detached in a bloody spray, a Wookiee Berserker and three squads of troops jetting up from the Shadowlands.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" screamed a trooper just before a newly-lighted Wookiee impaled him with both blades.

The three surviving Rebels unslung their rifles in a fluid motion, and started blasting. The sergeant called the rest of the unit...

The last lookout continued to backpedal, firing into the remaining five Berserkers. Bolts flew wide and tore into the gangplank, spraying burning shrapnel at the charging Wookiees. The splinters bounced off of their armor.

Another olive-hued bolt flew out, aimed for the snowy-maned leader. This time, the aim was true.

Tvojjerick dropped to his knees in shock and pain as the bolt struck his belly. But he lifted his gaze to the obstacle between him and his prize: the blood of Kabacca. His eyes burned, and he lifted himself back to his feet. The wound was not fatal, and the pain was secondary to the burning bloodlust.

The Rebels were quickly back-pedaling, their M-1 rifles on full automatic and spraying suppressing fire into the horde. Five dead Berserkers littered the platform; a Ryyk blade was far more deadly than their rifles, but the rifle gave the Rebels reach beyond even the longest-limbed Wookiee warrior.

The danger came in reloading. And that time was approaching. But the Rebel base was alerted, and so was Kabacca. The peaceful night had turned into a bloodbath, and it only promised to get bloodier.

Turn 2
The point was driven further home as the sound of more jetpacks split the night, and three fresh squads arrived on the Rebel front and another joined the strike force attacking Kabacca.

The powerful rifles the Rebel troopers had been issued helped them put some breathing space between them and the surviving attackers, but before the reinforcements arrived, they had been five against seven. Now it was five against nineteen.

"Kark it! Run and get your frags ready! Move!" the sergeant barked.

The lance corporal cried out, "I thought the Wookiees were on our side!"

"I guess these aren't!" the noncom snapped, his rifle spraying crimson galvened particle blasts across the advancing horde. Incredibly, his fire rapidly thinned one of the new squads, striking one Wookiee in the belly, two more through the head, and another through the chest.

"Where'd you learn to shoot like that, Sarge?" she asked, then struck a Berserker through the heart. The big Wookiee dropped to his knees, and the fell flat.

"Not bad. Cover me."

The lance corporal fired a quick, but amazingly lucky three-round burst from her rifle. Two bolts tore through the body of the Berserker the sergeant had wounded, and another punched through the head of the nearest warrior. She was so fixated on laying down cover fire that she didn't notice the grenade the sergeant had hurled into the advancing ranks. She did, however, notice when it detonated. The last five Wookiees from the original group were reduced to shredded meat and fur wrapped in perforated metal.

A second explosion took out the left flank of the Berserker force, killing three and wounding another six.

There was a brief moment of silence... the five Rebels and six wounded Wookiees looked around, and realized the brutal carnage had whittled the number of Tvojjerick's warriors down to the six still-alive Berserkers... and that the massacre had taken place in the span of several seconds.

The ranking Berserker looked at the five standing Rebel soldiers, raised his Ryyk blade, and let loose a blood-curdling snarl. His remaining troopers lit their jetpacks and charged, their blood soaking their fur, armor, and dripping onto the platform beneath them.

As the melee took place on the observation platform, another battle raged across the catwalks of Kabacca's villa. Reinforced with fresh troops, Tvojjerick's forces began to storm the catwalk, intent on breaking through the bowcaster-wielding militia troops. Tvojjerick himself, however, had limped back to the rear of the lines to direct his minions.

On the catwalk was little cover, but it didn't matter. With a mighty warcry, the Wookiee warriors charged. And the militia guards--and lone lookout--fired. The Berserker in front took a bowcaster slug, dodged another, and was then pierced by two more before falling to the wooden planks. His second continued to charge, dodging a blast meant for his now-fallen comrade, but then taking two more intended for him. He dropped to his knees, stunned... and avoided another slug that buried itself in the head of the warrior behind him.

He looked around as the warriors that were now under his immediate command charged... and were struck by the deadly emerald fusillade issuing from Kabacca's troops. His third rushed ahead, to be struck in the shoulder by a bolt. The Ryyk blade fell from the lame arm, but still he charged on as one, two, three, and then four bolts ripped into the planking.

But a second shot burned into his body. Then a third. As he fell, a final bolt ripped through his helmet and out the other side. Emboldened by his subordinate's sacrifice, the wounded warrior rose to his feet, and then charged as fast as his legs would take him.

But there was still a long distance to go.

Supreme Commander of the Central and Southern Galactic Segments, Director of Imperial Intelligence

Galaxy Map|Board and RPG Rules|Game Guide

"The Preying Mantis often sizes up a potential mate while wearing too much eyeliner..." - Velora

"You are so cool, you make James Bond proud..." - My Dad... sarcastically. Don't try to juggle cutlery. :p

Last edited by Ams Jendob on Thu, January 15th 2009 06:43pm; edited 2 times in total
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Lahna Foriza

Joined: 08 Dec 2008
Posts: 7

 Post Posted: Fri, January 16th 2009 01:21pm    Post subject:
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From my position at the balcony of the Rebel recon base I could see the horrors happening around me. Wookiees, flying Wookiees, coming up from the dark below the Wookiee city with blades swinging. With our meagre defences quickly being overcome, and our allied Wookiee warriors falling back, it wouldn’t be long before the berserkers overran our encampment.

The sergeant who was in charge of the soldiers at our base was shouting orders as he backpedalled towards the base, a large gash seeping blood on the side of his face, I called to him, “Sergeant! How do we fare?” I realise I sound like some archaic princess asking of a knight the tales of battle but I’m Alderaanian. We’re classy like that.

Without replying to my question the Sergeant made his way up to my quarters, bringing two privates with him, “ma’am,” he said, slowly, “we’re beginning the evacuation of all diplomatic personnel. It looks like a revolution is at hand and we’re losing too many soldiers down here to support the incumbent.”

I shook my head, “no Sergeant. The Wookiees are our allies, a member state of the Alliance, we can’t just...”

“Ma’am,” he said, interrupting me, “we’ve lost over half our defensive troops, and the trees have limited our communications ability to outside the city. We have to fall back, regroup, and redeploy.”

He was right, of course. I hadn’t been trained to be in this situation. Nobody had, really. Wookiee insurrections weren’t covered at either the diplomatic college of the military schools. “How many transports do we have?” He frowned slightly, “only the one diplomatic shuttle ma’am. Enough room for you and the support staff. Along with two of my boys.”

I shook my head, “don’t you even think of getting me outta here if you’re all staying behind. Send more of your boys.”

He shook his head in response, “no ma’am. I highly doubt that, come tomorrow, there will be much in the way of my boys left. We’ll fall back, into the forested night, and strike again land-side when the reinforcements come.”

I tilted my head to the side slightly, and I couldn’t help but smile, “anyone would think you’d been fighting as a terrorist guerrilla soldier for most of your career Sergeant.”

He shrugged and smiled slightly himself, the blood from his cheek running over his lips and teeth, “I actually served here, both in the war against the Empire and in the other one. I should be alright.”

I shook my head, trying to hide the tears welling up in my eyes. I had been on this planet six months and the men and women that served with me at this base had made quite an impression on me, and to know that I’ll not see most of them again was rather unbearable, “good luck Sergeant. Soldiers aren’t allowed to die without permission, and I’m not giving you my permission.”

He chuckled softly, wiping his blood from his lips, “of course ma’am. But you can’t punish me once I’m gone.”

I put my hands on my hips, “Sergeant, you are forbidden to die. When I come back with the liberating forces, I expect to find you alive and well.”

The Sergeant smiled slightly and nodded, wiping some muck from his uniform. I looked at the name it revealed. I looked for a period of time that was longer than I took to read it. I was burning his name into my mind, to make sure it wasn’t a name I’d forget.

As he escorted me to the rooftop landing pad, and the shuttle awaiting me there, his name bounced around my head.

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 Post Posted: Tue, January 27th 2009 12:25pm    Post subject:
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As the diplomatic courier shuttle pushed off from the pad, I allowed myself one brief moment of mourning for those that had died in the past few days, I also privately prayed to whatever deity that may be out there to protect and guide the few of us that remained.

Of our original compliment of seventeen men two had been killed, however all of the remaining soldiers were wounded and in various stages of shock. I, myself, was used to the horrors of sudden combat; however many of these men were barely even men. New raw recruits from the depot on Tatooine or any other of the Army training depots around the Alliance’s territories.

The reality was that Wookiees with jetpacks had shot up out of the Badlands and started on a murderous rampage towards the home of Chief Kabacca, killing two of my boys in the process. This made me unhappy. Moreover, I am not pleasant when I am unhappy, as many junior enlisted men and women could attest to, were it not for the current situation in which I have found myself.

Peering out over the scene of carnage from my vantage point on the roof of our natively friendly outpost I saw a small group of troopers falling back to our position, they were around twenty meters away. I quickly ordered four troopers to meet them half way and reinforce their numbers until they had made it back to base.

Allow me to describe our physical position to you. We are situated upon a large native tree, the name of which I am unable to pronounce without some difficulty. Leading to this perch are three walkways. One of which leads to Chief Kabacca’s hut just over half a kilometre* away, another leads to the main central hub of the village, including a lively market-type environment. The third is old, worn, and apparently not frequently used, what it leads to is anyone’s guess.

I had already sent two troopers to the village, around a kilometre* away, to alert them to the situation, though I fear that the two are already deceased. I had positioned two troopers at our end of each walkway and setup small detonators at the same end of the pathways with which we destroy the vines holding the walkways to our branch.

Shouldering my rifle, I made my way back down into the main base where several technicians were busy at work attempting to cut through the interference that prevented our communications from reaching the outside galaxy. Communication planet-side was achievable only due to beacons placed at regular intervals along well-used walkways, at the pleasure of our Wookiee hosts. Otherwise, our limited equipment would only transmit in a circle of around one hundred meters in diameter.

Try as we might none of us, the remaining soldiers, technicians and me could figure out why the Jet-Wooks, as we had dubbed them, were attacking the Chief’s guard. Normally we would have withdrawn and awaited the outcome of the apparent blood feud, as required by our treaty with the Wookiees, however our own soldiers had been targeted and we were, as far as I was concerned, at war with the Jet-Wook faction.
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