Skirmish The Sacking of Vur Tepe | The Death Watch vs The New Jedi Order & Friends

[Rynn Vizsla]

T H R E A D _ T H E M E

Credits were one of the many reasons that the ‘Verse spun ‘round. While such claims were proven wrong time and again, it was amazing what could be done with a generous sum of what was considered to be valuable. Greasing the right people’s hands often led to a mutual exchange of goods or information, benefiting both parties in some fashion. In the case of the Death Watch and their cohorts, those bribes led towards an uneven barter - as the knowledge garnered was worth far more than the stolen trinkets that were exchanged. ​

That information contained the riddle of Beskar. While the Mandalorian people knew how to forge this precious metal into an indomitable bulwark, the issue within the modern era was where such a substance could be found. As the Mandalore Sector was stripped bare by the Sith Empire, and many far-flung outposts of the once and future were despoiled by foreign nations, many Mandalorian Clans found their supplies beginning to dwindle. It became challenging to source new veins of Beskar Ore, forcing the Forgemasters of the Mandalorian people to utilize inferior alternatives.​

Yet, there was still hope that this culturally significant metal could be found elsewhere amongst the stars. On the surface of Tython, in the depths of the Galactic Core, there lay a collection of ancient structures. As a testament to their design, these temples - of a sort - managed to survive the corruption and subsequent purification of the planet’s surface. But, there was little care given to the how’s and why’s regarding these structures. What mattered, and what truly piqued the Death Watch’s interest, was what was reportedly found within the sturdy, stone walls of those ancient temples.​

Seemingly untouched by the previous tenants of a temple that bore Vur Tepe’s name, an untouched cache of precious metals was uncovered by a team of local archaeologists. When their palms were greased, and their tongues loosened, they spoke of the riches contained within - detailing them with relative ease. Amongst the treasures that were spoken of in hushed whispers in the darkened alcoves of some seedy cantina was a collection of Beskar Ingots and Ore. That hoard alone was worth a fortune, but when they detailed a small armoury of ancient weapons made from the same material as well? There was no question in the Death Watch’s mind.​

Thus, a portion of the burgeoning Crusade was mustered. The Beskar and whatever weapons or relics were housed within this… Vur Tepe needed to be recovered at all costs.

​

// Deep Core // Tython System // Tythos Ridge //
// Mk II Talon - Class Dropship // Modified with False Transponders, Etc. //
Equipment: See Signature.
Objective(s): Raid the Stores; Sack the Temple; Slay all that Stand in the Way.

​

There was only so far that petty acts of piracy could take the Death Watch. Once proud warriors, fighting against the odds for a noble and worthy cause. Yet, here they were. Raiding caravans as they made their way towards the Outer Rim, all so that they could have enough foodstuffs to live and fight another day. It had been some time since the raid on Plutus station, and the fires of battle lust that spatial incursion stroked were starting to fade. Rynn needed something more to keep the coals warm, lest they grew cold. So, when word came down the pipeline that a portion of the Crusade was being diverted to Tython? Well, the Rally Master was the first of many to answer the call.​

However, there was only one problem. The Deep Core was under the Galactic Alliance’s sphere of influence. It wasn’t going to be an easy task to navigate through their airspace and remain undetected, let alone making it back to the ‘Purgatory’ in one piece. Then, there was a chance that they’d run straight into a contingent of armed defenders, which would likely be Jedi Guardians of a sort. While there were some amongst this portion of the Crusader Host who were hesitant to face these warrior-monks, Rynn yearned for the opportunity. The Rally Master was weary of facing off against mindless hordes of alchemical abominations and wanted a real challenge. ​

Something that he hoped would be found within the sundered halls of Vur Tepe.​

It was then that his attention snapped back to the present. He stood aboard one of the Death Watch’s gunships, surrounded by a handful of comrades in arms. They busied themselves with their pre-combat rituals. Some were sharpening their blades, while others were chanting merrily in unison with one another. Rynn wanted to count himself amongst their number, to sing with all his heart as a blade swept against a whetstone. Yet, his mind was elsewhere, and his tongue couldn’t carry a tune. So, the Rally Master set himself to the task of honing his thoughts - rather than his blade. There was only so much a sharpened edge could do against an enemy who bent the very tides of reality to their every whim.​

As the seconds began to bleed away, and as his mind was set to the task, Rynn’s surroundings were suddenly bathed in a harsh crimson light. The Gunship was making its final approach to the planetside temple. They managed to get this far on falsified IFF transponder codes, stolen identification chits, and even some transit passes from a few Spacers in some Guild. With much of the Alliance’s military might taking the fight to the Sith Empire, their patrols were laxer than the Mandalorian’s were expecting. So, they reached the planet of Tython without raising anything more than a curious eyebrow. It was only when they broke through the atmosphere that their ruse burned away.​

Several fiery chariots plummeted to the surface of Tython and speared towards a range of mountains that were known locally as the Tythos Ridge. Their engines were howling in personified anticipation as they ferried the Gunship and their precious cargo forward into the fray. As the temple was ancient and partially abandoned - there was minimal resistance to be expected. There would be no bristling gun batteries, seeking to saturate the heavens with a plasmatic cannonade. There would be no missile launchers belching forth their explosive payloads, seeking to intercept these would-be assailants and destroy them before they could threaten the structure proper. Instead, nothing but the gentle breeze rose to meet their thunderous advance.​

Rynn was ready. His heart began to race in anticipation for the battle to come. While it was uncertain who awaited their arrival, the Mandalorian didn’t much care. If there wasn’t opposition to be had, their objective would be accomplished swiftly. They would acquire what they came here for and leave without shedding a droplet of blood. While it wasn’t the ideal conclusion, obtaining a stockpile of precious Beskar was a prize worth more than a momentary flicker of disappointment. If there were defenders - then this mission would be more than worth the effort and equal to the reward that awaited them, should they succeed. It was then that their Pilot’s voice echoed within their collective helmets, informing them of their arrival and subsequent deployment times.​

Once a subtle crimson, the light flashed green in tandem to the assault ramp kissing the ancient temple’s flight deck. With the vigour of youth, bidden forth by excitement and enkindled battle lust, Rynn charged out of the Gunship - and threw himself into the action that waited beyond that metallic, yawning maw. ​

The Sacking of Vur Tepe had begun.
​

​

:// TOO LONG; DIDN’T READ? //:

• Surprise, Mandos at the Gate. Now, FIGHT!​

:// “SHOPPING LIST” //:

• Beskar Ore and Ingots.​
• Ancient Suits of Beskar’gam.​
• Madog Steel.​
• Munit'kad Halberds.​
• Bevii'ragir Spears.​
• Etc.​

 

[Rhook Mandragoran]

​

Tython, Vur Tepe Grounds, Ancient Tomb
Rhook Mandragoran (Alone)

The last time he'd climbed these steps he had intended to leave this life behind forever. The betrayal that he'd suffered, that all of the Jedi had suffered was crushing. It threw his world view into disarray, made him question what he'd been fighting for all along. Worn shale cracked and flaked off of the steps with his mountainous weight, slowly ascending them one at a time.​

​

What had changed? Not him, that was for sure. A father and a husband now, but even that it seemed could not keep him from the fields of battle. Atrocity was out there, and it sang through the force. Genocides, mass enslavement, new wars that burned hot and threatened to set the Galaxy alight once more. The call to war had become too strong. Saskia was still at home on Chaldea, along with Kara. Their daughter had turned six this spring. He would have liked to say that he was returning to fight for them, to keep the horrors of the Galaxy from their doorstep.​

​

He'd given speeches to men under his command to that effect. Enough times to understand that it was not his reason for fighting. All of the love at home could not drown out the siren's call of his abusive ex-lover. War. He was incomplete without it. The animalistic struggle for survival, the rush of seeing utter carnage play out before his eyes, leading men in desperate charges that would see his enemies' bodies broken and battered under his boots.​

​

His hand touched the door to this tomb, where he thought he would bury such battle-lust nearly a decade ago. As he closed his eyes and channeled through the force, the doors rumbled softly and began to slide apart.​

​

Just this one last time. He strode in, laying his eyes on the sarcophagus that held his prize -- a tomb built but never used. Not for the one it was meant for anyways.​

​

He shoved the great stone slab lid aside and it came to the floor with a crash. Inside, a woolen quilt was wrapped around a humanoid figure. He pulled it apart, his eyes falling upon his armor, long set aside for a more peaceful life, and the weapons laid beside it.​

​

He picked up that great fearsome helm, its visor bearing scars from battles long past.​

​

Just this one last time. When the Galaxy is at peace, I will return to them.​

 

[Khefiir]

Endlesss frussstrationssss.

Vur Tepe held ancient secrets of making, to be sure - but precious few of them dovetailed with the far older methods he'd learned from the dying Mist-Weaver K'narik. Put simply: no amount of smithing art could give him the slightest insight into spinning silk from the Force.

Lightsilk hung from Khefiir's claws and snagged in his scales. He ripped off the tangled mess of a day's work.

Once he'd let the silk return to the Mist, the Force, he realized the disharmony was as much outside him as within. Something felt deeply wrong. With his focus on his task, he'd only recognized the problem subconsciously, and that unease had bled into his work.

A shiver ran through Vur Tepe, a ship landing hard. Khefiir sensed combat exhilaration and fear. He snatched up his lightsaber and got up. The little training room felt much smaller now. He burst out eagerly-

-and, what felt like just moments later, onto the temple's landing pad. A raider ship had touched down. Mandalorians were streaming out.

Khefiir lit his saber alongside half a dozen Jedi at the landing pad's broad main door. The Trandoshan pointed with the claws of his free hand, picking a target in challenge.


Rynn Vizsla

 

[Dezorath Barcu]

Equipment: In sig
Location: Landing platform

I gave a hard yet playful shove to an adjacent vod, My hulking figure motioned onward. Stepping off the gunship. Like a boulder, I went air born briefly before landing onto a metal platform below. It shook slightly with a minor tremor. The sensation of which brought me a thrill. Through the t-shaped visor, I, Dezorath, Found focus on rally master Rynn Vizsla ,it was he that was the first to enter into the field.

It was he who would lead us to sack the temple of Jedi filth.

The chirp of my internal HUD alarmed my perception to the sight of the enemy. The grouping had arrived just in time. If I had to wait or for the glory of combat any longer I would of gone mad.

Swinging a heavy set barrel I took aim while strafing to my right. Id be mad if I didnt consider bringing my heavy repeating laser cannon for such a raid and now I was glad I had. More than glad. I was estatic! " Suppressing fire!" The phrase was shouted from my maw into the open and over Deathwatch comms.

The smell of ozone saturated the air as I held down the trigger. Laser cannon bolts leap into the scene. Poised to hit the Jedi grouping that blocked their way.(( Khefiir ))

Tags:
Rhook Mandragoran

 

[Khefiir]

When Dezorath Barcu appeared, all five hundred pounds of him, a couple of young Jedi cussed under their breath. When the hulking Mando leveled his Very Large Gun at the Jedi in the doorway, several of them scattered out of the doorway. Khefiir didn't, mostly because he forgot. That gun had his entire attention.

The big Trandoshan had his saber up already. Now he set his feet in a solid Shii-Sho stance and met the stream of laserfire. Each successive bolt - and they came in quick - felt like it was exploding against his saber. His clawed feet grated on the stonework with every jolt. Even with the Force on his side, the impact of blocking reverberated through his body.

A couple of reflected bolts smashed into Dezorath's shield; a few others went into the Mando horde. But that was all just random chance, because aimless deflection was the best Khefiir could do against this insanity.

The other Jedi either shrank back into cover, or spread out to engage oncoming Mandos. For the moment, Khefiir was handling the laserfire as a solo effort. It might not last.

 

[Riyo Milne]

CRASH!

As the Ground shook heavily, Riyo looked down at her missives. Was she ever going to finish maintenance? Standing up, Riyo let out an uncharacteristic sigh of impatience at this interruption. Deciding the maintenance she'd done would have to do, she slid the vibroblades into their sheathes. What in the name of Ashla and Bogan is going on!?! walking into the corridor, she noticed a group of Guardians rushing towards the landing pad, some of them already igniting their lightsabers. One of them yelled, "We're under attack!" Though she couldn't tell if it was to her or another Guardian.

Closing her eyes, Riyo let the powerful Force presence of this ancient planet flow over her, directing her as the wind blows a leaf or a river pushes a raft. Focusing on the ripples among the force, she could feel the determination, caution, and perhaps even tinges of fear among the Jedi already engaged. Through the Force, she could hear the clear enunciation and accent of Mando'a and the signature sound of Mandalorian weapons. She could feel the almost giddy emotion of Mandalorians facing off against their most ancient and worthy foes and the disturbance of conflict caused by this clash.

Centering her mind and steeling her will, Riyo made a gesture with her hands and arms as she adopted the stance and mindset of an Echani Warrior. She fed off of her courage, determination, and strength of being, and waited for whoever would first break or sneak through the line of defense the Guardians provided.

Rynn Vizsla

 

[Rhook Mandragoran]

Tython, Vur Tepe Temple
Rhook Mandragoran Khefiir Riyo Milne
ENGAGING: Dezorath Barcu Rynn Vizsla

This. This was the homecoming he needed.

A heavy gauntleted hand fell on Khefiir's shoulder, all at once ceasing his slide backwards as if he'd found his back to a stone wall. "It is good to see you again, Khefiir."​

​

The voice that spoke was in the Trandoshan's mind where it could not be drowned out by blaster fire. Resoundingly familiar, though they had only met a few times during the Great Galactic War. The hand left his shoulder only for a mountain of shining ultrachrome and titanium to step forwards, easing the Trandoshan's burden as a sheen of blue curtained forwards to begin deflecting the blaster fire, projected from the Tower's open hand. His other held a pole weapon nearly as tall as the man himself. He wasted no time in taking charge of the situation.

"Fall back into the temple! If they wish to fight, it will be on our terms - not theirs!" His voice bellowed above the chaos as Rhook braced himself against the incoming fire, projecting a barrier wide enough to curtain off the entrance to the temple, a bulwark for his allies - a port in the storm. He would hold as long as he needed to for the Jedi that had foolishly walked out into open ground to retreat to safety. They had smaller numbers here, an engagement in the open with enemies who bore extensive and vicious ranged weaponry was nothing short of foolish.

Inside the temple, inside closed in corridors and hallways did they have the best chance of staving off this attack - of dividing and conquering their enemy by ambush and by sword.​

 

[Kad Munin]

It wasn't worth it to hate the Jedi. Even through all of Mandalorian history, the constant back and forth with those who wielded the Force, it had never been worth it to hate the Jedi; as often as they had fought against the Jedi, they had fought with them. One of their own had even been a Jedi, at one point, or so the legends told. Nor were the Jedi like their descendants, the Sith, who cared for little more than power and domination, once caught deep in the throes of their spiritual corruption; no, the Jedi at least held honour in their own sense, even if they squandered their abilities.

No, Kad Munin did not hate the Jedi, not simply for being Jedi. Not like he hated the Sith. Not like he hated those that caused him to be trapped within the armour he wore, unable to escape it except at great and constant pain. But he did hate weakness, something that he felt the Jedi had, that he felt they welcomed, in spades. And if there was one goal he had remaining in his life...

It was to purge the galaxy of any weakness.

Steel versus steel. Warrior versus warrior. Predator and prey, the dynamic constantly shifting back and forth; the one truth to the universe was conflict, from the opposing forces deep within every atom to the great shifting tides of the Manda itself as it was ever incorporating the honoured dead into itself. There was nothing else to live for, no other purpose to life at all, for the battered warrior. Not after what had happened to him, before he was rescued by the Alor of Clan Munin, given a new name, a new chance at life.

No, Kad Munin did not hate the Jedi.

But he would force them to live by his rule on this day.

As Dezorath Barcu let loose with his cannon, and the other warriors began to take their places in the assault, Kad strode forward, his armour rattling and clanking with every heavy step he took. Bolts reflected from the stalwart defense of Khefiir and Rhook Mandragoran bounced off of his armour, releasing their energy harmlessly as he eventually came to a stop, ahead of his brothers, with all weapons holstered except for the massive executioner's sword he always carried.

Now was not the time for butchery, not like he had been known for in previous engagements. Here, the ones worth testing himself against were the only ones to fight. He didn't have to waste his energy to draw them out. Now, he stood, implacable, his unspoken challenge clear as day as his visor swept over the Jedi who remained in view.

He had only one question left to himself before the battle.

The Trandoshan, the human, or some other?

 

[Kat Decoria]

Being on Tython was an experience for Kat, she was hoping that she could see if being around all this ancient Jedi knowledge and history would spark the Jedi that was once within her. Her long silver hair was loose and cascading in loose curls down her back, with the fringe covering her right eye. She was wearing her casual outfit, forgoing the traditional robes, they were far too stiff for her and itchy as well. Wandering around the library of the temple, Kat was examining the history and taking down some notes. Locations to explore and people of interest to learn more about. Kat was curious if there had been others that were once Jedi but lost their way and how they found their way back to the Jedi if they did or what they did afterwards. There was plenty of Sith Lords mentioned that were former Jedi but Kat knew that wasn't her, she was still wanting to support others and help people out but she wasn't sure if being a Jedi was something she could do now. As much as she settling into the Galactic Alliance, still attempting to make friends, she felt distant as a Jedi or disillusioned as one though she still supported Jedi and knew they did good. Just, was that her?

Rubbing her neck, feeling stiff and a little sore, Kat looked around the temple. It was silent for the most part, tended to be how ruins were but she was enjoying the peace for once. Coruscant was so busy, so full of life in all its walks, she was a little overwhelmed by it all. It had been a long time since she had been surrounded by so many people, especially majority of people who were creepy lowlifes. Kat stretched her arms out and stood up, looking around the archives, her hunt hadn't produced much information but she was feeling a little more connected to the Jedi Order. It was certainly interesting looking into the history that was here. She wandered outside the room, carrying only her Lightsaber with her, leaving the notes and few supplies she had brought with her in the library.

As she wandered around, she could hear the voices of others, clearly a few other Jedi were visiting the ruins which was nice. Perhaps someone she could talk with, perhaps get to know. Kat attempted to listen closely, moving forward, she couldn't hear too much but then blaster fire rang clear through the hallway. Igniting her saber pike, twirling in her hands, she rushed forward. While she wasn't sure what was going on, blaster fire in a temple is never a good sign. Hopefully the ruins wouldn't suffer any damage, at least specifically the library section, she really would like to maintain her notes and the other supplies she had. If they got destroyed it would suck hard..!

Kad Munin Rhook Mandragoran Khefiir Rynn Vizsla Dezorath Barcu Riyo Milne

 

[Tarre Priest]

LOCATION: Tythos Ridge
OBJECTIVE: Assault the Temple.
ALLIES: Rynn Vizsla , Kad Munin Dezorath Barcu Milla Kryst
ENEMIES: Khefiir Riyo Milne Rhook Mandragoran

Holding aloft the Sniper Rifle in my arms, almost cradling it like a child. The Dropship came down. Dropping all the Mandalorian troops it could. Jedi igniting sabers of multiple colors. Humming with energy as the "heavy" Dez seemed to want to mow them all down. As soon as blasterbolts went flying through the air, I ducked. Taking a low stance and moved between our own lines of men and women. Moving around to the side of the group, I kept my low crouch. Taking kneeling aim down the sniper rifle.

In my sights was a Jedi. Hiding behind the wall with his head sticking out to see the Trandoshan Jedi defending the path. In that moment, I fired. The bold lanced through the air and slammed hard. Sending him backwards. However, should his compatriots look at the fallen Jedi, they could slowly see the hole in his head growing as the Disruptor portion of the rifle was at work. Eating away at his head.

"Milla, Take down the Jedi who peek out. Keep pressure on the Jedi."

 

[Vexander Graves]

Temple Entrance
Covering the Retreat inside the Temple
Allies: Rhook Mandragoran | Khefiir | Riyo Milne | Kat Decoria |
Enemies: Tarre Priest | Rynn Vizsla | Kad Munin | Dezorath Barcu | Milla Kryst |

​

The turmoil that emannated from the outside of the Temple in Tython was quite palpable through the Force... Vexander didn't know what was causing it but he felt many young ones running with conflictive feelings... The corellian Jedi didn't have to run a whole algorithm to sum something as easy as one plus one... something dire was happening outside.

The Force brought him for a reason today, he thought that he was here just to gather equipment and perhaps get a jedi or two to join him make up the Cyan Jedi Support Group onboard "The Valkyrie" which he hoped would be operational soon... but what the Force brought to him on this day was not Jedi companions to join him in the CJSG but instead... Jedi brothers and sisters to fight in the protection of this Temple.

Vexander ran through the hallways, following his instinct and the voices, the chaos and the center where the Force was just flowing in erratic ways, or at least for him through his perception of the Force; he ran and as light poured to him... he began to notice silloutes, blaster fire... combat...

With the hilt on his grip, the Jedi Master ignited his lightsaber and placed himself in a defensive position using Soresu, with a quick glance, the man scanned the area and saw what had to be done. He noticed a Jedi instruct everyone to get inside and it made quite a lot of sense.

"Hurry! I'll cover your retreat inside!"

The cyan blade was the beacon for all young ones to get inside... and he was the one who would hold that line until the last of them was in the Temple.

 

[Aelys]

Jedi: Vexander Graves , Rhook Mandragoran , Khefiir , Riyo Milne, Kat Decoria
Mandalorians: Tarre Priest , Rynn Vizsla , Kad Munin , Dezorath Barcu , Milla Kryst

---

---

Tython Forests --> Temple

In the forests Aelys sat wrapped up in his thoughts, a swirl of mystical energies casting him deep into himself. Meditation and introspection were skills of the Jedi. It was what separated them from their enemy of the Sith, but Aelys couldn't wrap his head around it. Why look into himself? Into the Force? There was nothing to be found, for he set his own path.

The Force may have been a guiding hand, but the Thyrsian Padawan was content in not knowing what it held in store for him, if it were even possible for him to discern the meanings of some not promised vision.

So deeply enthralled within the presence of the Force, the sensations of pain that rolled through the Force drew him out of the confusing images of his own future. Pain, suffering, they mingled together, both of the past, of the future, of the present, and his hazel orbs blinked open. Aelys, pushing off from the rock in the small clearing in the forest instantly set off to the Temple.

What's happening? The Sith here?

The usual feel of the Sith, that long crimson shadow that eclipsed the light wasn't here. Even with the Force's enhanced senses diminishing, that confusion quickly set to determination. The Brotherhood of the Maw? Aelys didn't know, and he continued on, the sound of blaster fire growing in pitch the closer he got to the temple.

Emerging along the tree line, Aelys saw the Temple and those that assailed it. From its landing pad, a ship had landed, and Mandalorian warriors were charging out into the fray.

Saberstaff snatched off of his waist, from the forests, he ran off to close in on the Mandalorians from the rear.

 

[Milla Kryst]

LOCATION: Tythos Ridge
OBJECTIVE: Assault the Temple.
ALLIES: Rynn Vizsla , Kad Munin Dezorath Barcu Tarre Priest

"I've got you, al'verde," Milla spoke as she hopped out of the transport alongside Tarre. Perhaps a Mandalorian not wearing Mandalorian Armor yet, she still wore protective clothing and limited forms of padding and chest armor. She kept her DC-15A Blaster Rifle clutched close to her as she gave covering fire to Tarre, sticking close to him as she traveled. She did her best to watch out for Jedi that peaked out, but also any that seemed like they would try to target Tarre. She was very confidant, wielding the weapon that slayed many Jedi in the second Jedi Purge many lifetimes ago. She grabbed a thermal detonator from her belt and activated it, throwing it towards a very small group of Jedi trying to bundle together and reflect blaster bolts. "I'm starting to question how appropriate I am being here," she yelled, grinning as she amused herself, "what's a beskar'less pale-skin doing with a bunch of Mandalorians," she chuckled slightly. She kept up her fire even as she spoke, through the explosions, blaster fire, and lightsaber sounds.

Her role at the moment was to keep low and stay with Tarre, she wasn't an expert marksmen yet and she was practically learning how to fight with trial by fire lessons. Which she wasn't upset about, she enjoyed the thought of being bathed in fire before being reborn as a Mandalorian as great as any of the others here. One trick she did learn from her hunting trip was not to spray and pray the DC-15A, as it was a precision rifle, not a weapon to coat the battlefield in fire. So she did her best to be precise, only firing multiple shots if she had the steady aim and it was necessary.

 

[Dezorath Barcu]

BREACH​

Equipment: In sig
Location: Landing platform
Objective: Breach the temple wall.
Allies: Milla Kryst Rynn Vizsla Tarre Priest Kad Munin
Enemies: Aelys Vexander Graves Kat Decoria Riyo Milne

I had to rely greatly on my mandalorian training as well as my own body. Even now as the carnage ensued I took in the scene and very present moment. Every nerve and muscle fiber boomed with sensory acuity. The weight of the powerpack, my beskar'gam, the rippling vibrations, the screams and commands by both combatants.

I like my father before me, I lived for moments like these.

And that was what worried me. But now was no time to delve into deep thoughts and philosophies. No. They were cast into the recesses of my mind when the the arrival of a new Jedi, human in appearance, came to reinforce the trandoshan Khefiir and just in the nick of time too. A transparent barrier flashed bright blue apon contact with my own laser cannon fire. Stray bolts were nothing significant to cause the deflector shield to lower.

After hearing of their retreat I felt my mouth smirk under my helmet and continued my assualt against this new force barrier summon by the arrival of a Jedi, Rhook Mandragoran . Shifting and tilting the laser cannon I probed the barrier with a spray of plasma. Testing limitations and range of the mystical shield.

Its just the entrance!

Cocky I rushed toward the battle with little a relentless charge to solidify a position against the far left wall of the temple. It was meters away from the entrance. A dead end. Taking hold the Laser cannon in one hand, a feat that may of given away a clue about my species, I freed my other hand and quickly reached into gunbelt. Primed and armed my device of choice. An Ice Detonator.

There was no time for a lengthy timer nor was there time to run for sufficient cover. "Breaching!" I shouted top of my lungs and plunged the spike of the explosive into the stone in front of me and dug my feet in the floor. Grounded.

Now all I had to do was brace survive.

This is a bad idea..

Promptly it blew. Devouring me in a flash of white and searing flames within an eight meter radius. Most of which I trusted my armor to protect me from, it was the concussive blast and shockwave that sent back one meter on the flat of my back. My brain riddled with a sickening daze. Stunned I lay there recovering from my stunned state and vulnerable. My Beskar'gam warped in some areas, blackened and charred.

Everything is spinning.

It was up to my vod to follow up now, as I lay vulnerable for attack.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Underground Temple on Tython //:
//: Open //:

​

Tython was a planet that was probably older than dirt. The history of both the Jedi and the Sith originated from the planet with two opposite moons. Because of the rich history, there had to be treasure and artifacts just littering the grounds. With the history of the planet and with how many people have sacked the impoverished landscape, Allyson was pretty sure there was nothing to be found. ​

In the Agent’s off time, she had found a new passion for falling into large holes and exploring the unseen worlds. Luckily for her, she hadn’t found anything that caused the emergence of large boulders or weird voodoo men who enjoyed ripping hearts out. The thought made the Corellian shudder where she stood, flashlight wavering about as she did so. ​

A hand gripped her chest tightly as if she could feel the breaking of her ribcage and a hand digging around. No one had heard from her since Ziost, minus the surveillance from IVI had on her through the implanted device. Recovery and relaxation had been in order after facing the demonic being known as Vulcanus. Allyson was sure she had done some damage to the beast - but her mission now was a personal one, finding any evidence that could help her find out what had happened to Loske Treicolt . A daunting task, but one that she couldn't ignore.​

Her shoulders shook as the Corellian did her best to disperse the feeling she was having. Her mind not wanting to continue to imagine the feeling of her heart being ripped from her chest. Allyson forced her mind to focus as she continued onward down the winding path of the sunken temple. Vines and dirt shook loose with the seismic activity that suddenly happened; it made her pause and lookup. Large clumps of dirt fell from the ceiling and landed on her face; she spat out the dirt while groaning and wiping her face free of the mess. ​

“What in Chaos is happening up there?” She looked back at her surroundings, there was no light, but she could easily make out the room’s dimensions. Whatever this place was, it had to be attached to an older version of the temple above. Walls made of stone with ornate carvings in them, as she felt the nearest one, she could make out various saber forms. The room she stood in could have easily been the room where old Je’daii had trained with their primitive sabers learning the early combat moves. ​

Everything shook again, and Allyson covered her head with her arms as more dirt and gunk fell from the ceiling. Tython was supposed to be a peaceful planet, one where Jedi came for pilgrimage or something. Feeling another tremor, Allyson pinched the bridge of her nose. At this rate, the temple was more than likely going to collapse and with her in it. Yet, she decided to press forward despite the obvious signs to escape.​

Spoiler: Everyone Tags

Kat Decoria Vexander Graves Aelys Riyo Milne Milla Kryst Rynn Vizsla Tarre Priest Kad Munin Dezorath Barcu (if anyone wants to radio her, she's still reachable and would probs show up as an ally for the GA/NJO in the area.)

 

[Jair Ordo]

C R U S A D E R
TYTHON
RIFLE | VAMBRACES | LIGHTSABER | JETPACK
Rynn Vizsla | Kad Munin | Dezorath Barcu | Milla Kryst
Rhook Mandragoran | Khefiir | Aelys | Vexander Graves | Kat Decoria | Riyo Milne | Allyson Locke

Being at a Jedi Temple almost felt like... home.

It had been several years since he had ever seen the sight of a Jedi Temple, and he had sworn in a past life to avoid them for good. To find himself staring one down, about to breach and pillage it of its wealth in materials felt ironic. It was his past life that always made him question what he was doing. Lie a little voice that sang in the back of his mind, making him remember bits and pieces from his childhood and adolescence...

It distracted Jair, made him vulnerable to his emotions. His past life is a version of himself that was now dead, buried deep underground in the depths of his mind by the image of his new self. The one that crusaded, raided, and fought for the cause. All he had to do was focus on the present, the battle at hand, and the voice would drown out.

He stood by Rallymaster Vizsla when the attack began. On the landing platform, many of his Mandalorian comrades stood beside him ready to fight bravely. With their attack already planned out, it was time for the execution.

And execute they did.

The biggest one of the group, Dezorath Barcu , was found at the front of their siege. The heavy blaster repeater he carried in his hands was capable of a large amount of damage in a short window of time. It was the perfect breaching weapon. Within moments, the door of the Jedi Temple was down and blaster fire was flung everywhere. Two Jedi stood at the front of the entranceway, blocking their path of entry. A barrier was held between both parties. Jair recognized it almost instantly. A Force Barrier. Not like the technology they carried in their vambraces but of the same nature. Blaster fire wasn't going to get through any time soon.

His brother-in-arms noticed the same thing as well. Wasting power on that barrier wasn't going to do the breaching party any good. A new plan came to his mind. Ice Detonator in hand, he rushed to the left wall of the Temple. He plunged his hand into the stone and braced for impact. The explosion went off with a loud sound. Jair moved to a better position to see the outcome of such a blast. The outside wall had been breached, but his comrade was down. His armor smoking from the blast, he knew his brother-in-arms could not move for the time being. He took a look at the Mandalorian, then back at the breached hull. There were others who would be likely candidates to nurse him back to fighting strength but he was not one of them. If he was big enough to survive a blast like that to the face, he could handle a bit more. He trusted himself with that knowledge.

The wall of the Temple was laid open. Jair stood at the mouth of it, seeing how the impact affected the wall. It had made the surrounding stone charred black and the hole where the puncturing was wide enough to let in two at a time by estimation. That fact would not do if they had to get people in and out quickly. He too found himself reaching onto his belt to grab a regular thermal detonator. It was primed quickly and thrown at the breaching hole. An explosion followed closely and now the hole was wide enough for a big assault. Jair was the first to reach the inside of the temple, to see its intricate structure and design. It gave him chills to be inside, a familiar feeling flowed through him. He took off sprinting down into the corridors of the temple, using his communicator to signal back to the Rallymaster that the breach had been successful.

<"Vizsla! We have made it inside. Phase 2 can begin. Jate jate'kara, ner vod.*">
​

Spoiler: *

Translation: "Good luck, my brother."

 

[Khefiir]

Dezorath Barcu 's massive frag grenade saved Khefiir's life, no bantha drek. Rhook Mandragoran 's Force shield played a role too, of course. It blunted the explosion. But the explosion was what tossed Khefiir into the temple a few seconds before Jair Ordo added a thermal detonator to the mix. The baradium charge would have taken a lot more than blood and scales.

The big Trandoshan got a grip on a bas-relief and hauled himself to his feet. A Mando - two, three - dashed through a brand-new breach and down the temple halls. Khefiir looked around for his lightsaber.

 

[Rhook Mandragoran]

Tython, Vur Tepe Temple
ALLIES: Rhook Mandragoran Khefiir Riyo Milne Kat Decoria Vexander Graves
ENGAGING: Dezorath Barcu Rynn Vizsla Kad Munin Tarre Priest Milla Kryst Jair Ordo

Jedi fell before Rhook's eyes. By grenades, by sniper fire, by the overwhelming storm of suppressive fire coming from the Mandalorian skirmish lines. Even as jedi rushed passed him, passing through the shield to safety behind there still lay Jedi laid waste in the no man's land between the safety he offered and the invaders. Some dead. Some wounded. Some dying.​

​

Behind that great scarred helm the giant man's cold burning stare did not look away. The day had long since passed that he would struggle with the reality of what battle entailed. Those caught between, too wounded to make it to him were lost. Pushing forwards to recover them would only incur more casualties, more Jedi to add to the death toll. He could not save them. He waited for the last Jedi ( Vexander Graves ) to see that inevitable truth, or to remain blind to it. If he did not read the situation he could not save him either. He did not have the time to argue the morality of it all. He could only focus on saving those he still could save.​

​

"Into the temple! Last chance!" he bellowed, grinding his teeth in the heat of it all.​

​

They would come or they would not. He would mourn them if he had to, as he would the rest.​

​

He began to slowly move backwards as he held the shield firm. The breaching charge sent dust and shrapnel blasting over the dome-like invisible barrier, redirected by near-invisible forces to curve over its form as he slowly moved backwards, swallowed by that dust cloud. As he stepped back into the temple he raised his voice with the force once more, amplifying it so that it rang through the halls and was deafening in his own helmet.​

​

"Take up defensive positions! Guard the young in the inner sanctum! Stay behind blind corners and only strike when the enemy nears!" ​

​

He had no time to give more detailed instructions -- there was no time to emplace teams of Jedi and structure proper positions or ambushes. He would have to leave them to their own instincts and abilities.​

​

The enemy had breached the walls already. From the look of it, their entrance had taken them into one of the halls that wrapped around the outer wall. It had been nearly a decade since he had been to Typhon. The layout was uncertain in his mind and so he did the only thing he could. He took up a position just beyond the doorway to the side of it. He kept his lightax deactivated to avoid the glow of the plasma giving away his position. He inhaled deeply, and fed all of his emotion into the flame until only the void remained. He felt the force fill him, felt himself perch on the razor's edge.​

​

He would hold here, and wait. If some dared strike through the doorway rather than the breach in hopes of chasing down wounded Jedi to revel in bloodshed and murder he would crush them. There was no allowing it.​

​

He would charge the first Mandalorian to cross that threshold with the haft of his light-ax, using all of his power and weight to attempt to ram them into the wall and smash the vertebrae of their neck between stone and weapon.​

 

[Rynn Vizsla]

// Deep Core // Tython System // Tythos Ridge //
// Temple Flight Deck //
Engaging: Aelys
Equipment: See Signature.
Objective(s): Raid the Stores; Sack the Temple; Slay all that Stand in the Way.
​

​

As Rynn’s armoured boots kissed the temple’s flight deck, the false fire-light of his visor bathed his vision in a proverbial sea of warning runes. They chirped and sought to inform the Rally Master that his Warband wasn’t alone. That there were energy signatures and life-form readings that resonated just beyond the solitary entrance. He was confident that the others would receive the same notifications and knew that they would react accordingly. Some of these warriors proved themselves to be braver than most, while others elected to hang back and engage their newfound foes at range.​

​

The Rally Master unknowingly counted himself as the former, those Mandalorians who charged the newly revealed Jedi in the hopes of claiming victory. While it would’ve been smarter to engage these Sabre-wielding Force Adherents from a distance, such an option became an impossibility now. He was already too far away from the cover of their dropships. So, joining his brothers and sisters in establishing a firing line was out of the question. Not unless the man wanted to throw away the Death Watch’s momentum and allow the coterie of Jedi to gain the advantage.​

​

Instead, the young Vizsla drew his curved sabre and thumbed the activator. It would’ve been challenging to engage a Jedi with his particle rifle at this range, let alone the brace of pistols mag-locked to his armoured thighs. Thus, as the newly revealed Jedi pushed forward to meet their Mandalorian opponents, the only option presented to the Rally Master was his blade. With the curved sabre now sheathed in a crackling energy-field, Rynn raised the weapon high - all before following through with his momentum and throwing himself into the growing melee.​

​

The Jedi that rose to meet his challenge seemed young. Their hair was closely cropped to their skull, and a single braid dangled behind their ear. From what the Rally Master knew of the Ancient Jedi Order, this was one of their initiates; a Padawan Learner. While it wasn’t a fully-fledged Jedi Knight or one of their vaunted Masters, these Neophytes were still dangerous in their own way. They were trained warriors who wielded a weapon that could carve a path through even the densest and resilient metals. Even the legendary Beskar, forged and shaped to perfection, had its limits against such an elegant weapon.​

​

As the Padawan and the Rally Master closed the gap between one another, the flight deck’s situation became all the more interesting. The towering Dezorath stormed forth and began unleashing a ceaseless barrage of plasmatic bolts into the Jedi Defenders, forcing them to defend themselves. Even the Padwan that rose to meet Rynn’s challenge began taking steps backwards, acknowledging the threat they now faced. What made matters worse was that the portable laser cannon wasn’t fashioned like the armaments that the rest of the Warband bore into battle. The bolts that this massive weapon fired didn’t explode on impact when they struck the Jedi’s lightsabres.​

​

Instead, portions of that plasmatic cannonade were redirected back towards the advancing Neo-Crusaders.​

​

Rynn was one of the few that took a stray round from the reflecting Jedi barricade. The plasmatic round from the laser cannon struck the advancing Mandalorian in the shoulder, causing him to reel back as the kinetic energy transferred through the protective layers of his armour. Thankfully, as the Rally Master was about to lash out at the back-stepping Padawan, the armour’s onboard systems acknowledged the potential threat that a Lightsabre - let alone a stray round - offered. The mobility shield around his belt flickered to life, only to flare seconds later as the bolt connected with the projected barrier. As the realization etched itself into his memory, Rynn wordlessly whispered his thanks.​

​

It was then, as the Rally Master’s helmet swivelled back towards the withdrawing barricade that a heat-haze seemingly manifested out of thin air. Reality itself was being warped by one of the Jedi defenders’ concentrated will, seeking to safeguard their comrades from the advancing Warband. As it was called, this Force Barrier absorbed all of the plasmatic fury that the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders could bring to bear. The shimmering heat-haze covered the Jedi’s withdrawal into the ancient temple’s embrace, leaving the flight deck unquestionably in the hands of the Death Watch.​

​

While it was merely the first step in their plan, Rynn felt proud of everything they had collectively accomplished thus far. ​

​

That feeling of pride only soared when Dezorath, the mighty crusader, ferried his massive weapon with a single-hand as he repositioned. The amount of firepower that the Death Watch had brought to bear was slowly beginning to dwindle, as the Neo-Crusaders knew that their power packs would’ve been better spent against foes they could actually hurt. It would’ve been a needless expenditure of precious munitions. Thus, their plan to advance into the temple needed to adapt to the unfolding situation. They could’ve charged into the shielded entrance, pressing themselves against the conjured barrier until it fell - but such a choice would’ve been costly.​

​

They would have to make a new entrance. As Rynn was about to order some of his Crusaders to place charges on the wall, the newly repositioned Dezorath barked out a single word that caused his lips to peel back into a smile.​

​

“BREACHING!” ​

​

However, that smile quickly faded as the Rally Master saw the Crusader remain in place after the charge was set. He called out to the hulking figure, demanding that he break away from the wall - lest the worst happened. Yet, his words fell on deaf ears as the spiked charge detonated, throwing Dezorath clear of the newly revealed smoking hole in the wall. Whole sections of the man’s armour were rent and torn, with blackened scarring riddled across the entirety of his form. He was lucky to be alive! ​

​

Some of the Crusaders took advantage of the gap in the temple’s defences created by Dezorath, spilling into the corridors and either re-engaging the Jedi barricade or beginning to navigate through the labyrinthine structure. Others stayed behind, seeking to secure the landing pad to ensure that the Mandalorians had a viable escape route - lest they become trapped on Tython’s surface. Rynn found himself joining the latter group as he stormed towards the stunned figure lying on his back. With his blade’s crackling energy field extinguished and the weapon itself sheathed, the young Vizsla slid to a knee and grabbed the fallen Crusader by the hem of his warped cuirass.​

​

“You’ve got stones, Dez; I’ll give you that,” the Rally Master said with a chuckle. “Now, let’s get you to your feet and back into the fight.”​

​

Waving over a nearby Crusader, the pair of armoured warriors sought to rouse and pull the hulking figure away from the sundered wall. Dezorath was considerably heavier than his armoured form suggested. It took the combined might of two Mandalorians, outfitted with armour capable of augmenting their strength, everything they had just to start moving the hulking figure. Their armour was audibly whining as the energized fabric and micro-servos began straining themselves. The sound was far from pleasant, and when it was coupled with the stressed groans of exertion? There was a part of Rynn that wanted to drop that hulking figure right then and there.​

​

But, Mandalorians took care of their own.
​

<"Vizsla! We have made it inside. Phase 2 can begin. Jate jate'kara, ner vod.*">​

*Translation: Good luck, my brother ​

​

As Jair’s voice filled the Rally Master’s helmet, the man’s smile returned. Things were progressing better than he could’ve ever imagined. Not only had they forced the Jedi to withdraw to safety, but they breached the temple walls and began piling in. Now, all that remained was for them to survive this ordeal and shuttle as much Beskar as they could carry back to the Crusade. With the tight corridors and having to learn the layout of the temple as they pressed forward? There was a chance that the Death Watch’s advantage could be stolen, leaving them at the mercy of a group of embattled Jedi.​

​

:: May fortune guide your blade, :: Rynn grunted in reply, as he continued to inch Dezorath away from the ever-shifting frontlines.​

​

With his words spoken, the Rally Master’s helmet filled with the voice of a dropship’s pilot. The warrior had spotted something on their scopes that they needed to be aware of. A single lifeform was ascending the mountainside and lancing towards the temple at great speed. Whatever and whoever this figure was, they sought to use the nearby treeline as cover - which partially shielded them from the starship’s sensors. But, as they revealed themselves and sought to flank the newly claimed prize of the Death Watch… their advance would be uncontested. A lone Jedi versus the diminished Mandalorian presence would spell disaster for the coterie of remaining Neo-Crusaders.​

​

Thus, it would be his job to engage this flanking Jedi. That was the only way to keep control of the flight deck, let alone keep the avenue for escape open.​

​

:: Crusaders, :: Rynn stated over the encrypted comms channel that bound the entirety of the Warband together. :: We’ve got a Sorcerer flanking our position. Leave him to me, and I will do what I can to buy us all the time we need. Continue with your objectives. Keep these Jedi on the backfoot and allow Jair the time he needs to locate the armoury and forges. :: ​

​

Waving over another Crusader, the Rally Master handed Dezorath over to their care. The man’s fate was his own now, and all that the young Vizsla could hope for was that the hulking figure got back into the fight - or was pulled back to the safety of the dropships. Instead, Rynn’s mind shifted towards the newly revealed Jedi that barrelled out from the mountainside treeline. With his eyes drunk in the Jedi’s measure, the Rally Master’s hands dove down towards his thigh-clamped pistols. While the range between them would’ve been more suitable for his rifle, the time it would’ve taken to unsling the weapon would’ve lost him the advantage that the dwindling distance offered.​

​

Snapping the pistols up, and without ceremony, Rynn began to feather the particle weapon’s respective triggers whilst putting one foot before the other. He would meet this charging Jedi with a counter charge of his own - seeking to take advantage of the distance and hopefully put the warrior-monk on the defensive. As to what happened next? Only the ever-shifting tides of the Force knew the answer...​

-~-*-~-

| Kad Munin | Dezorath Barcu | Milla Kryst | Rhook Mandragoran | Khefiir | Vexander Graves | Kat Decoria | Riyo Milne | Allyson Locke | Tarre Priest | Jair Ordo |​

 

[Riyo Milne]

Riyu could feel the ripples the fight outside created in the force - the pain and suffering of Jedi who lay wounded or dying, the fear and anger of Mandalorian and Jedi alike as the battle continued to draw out, and the shrill cry of the force as more and yet more were added to the numbers of the dead. No stranger to battle, this still weighed heavily on her. Her determination was put to the test as yet another crash shook the temple, followed by the telltale roar of a thermal detonator.

Deep enough inside not to have been directly affected by the blast, and focused purely on the battle at hand, Riyu narrowed her vision at one of the Mandalorians sprinting deeper into the corridors. I can't let them go any further. Approaching Jair Ordo , she could feel the ripple of his emotions, and the ignored whispers of the force around him. It was an odd, confusing feeling. The Shadow had felt many different auras through the force, light siders who listened to it and sith who defied it, but never that of one who willingly ignored its calls.

Nevertheless, there were young ones that needed protecting, and the temple itself was holy ground being defiled. Removing her Missives from their back sheathes, in one fluid motion Riyu brought the vibroblades to bear on the Mandalorian, slashing swiftly towards the inside of his elbow, followed by an instinctive parrying motion with the second blade, expecting a counterblow.

"My people have been besting yours for millennia, and yet you still come back for more," she taunted, hoping to infuriate the Mandalorian and set him off balance.