Junction A New Dawn | ME and THR Junction of Antar and TBD

[Aiden Porte]

"So it begins...." Aiden whispered, the apprentice of hope was steady with his breaths as the sounds were heard across the once quiet jungle.

He glanced over towards Lorn and gave a short nod in recognition. He and the Vanguard commander had shared the field of battle many times. When you fought with someone long enough that battle presence was enough to shift the tides. The sound of jetpacks, the footsteps of the approaching Mandalorians and those that were appearing atop the walls. They had their own sets of skills....

As did the Jedi of the Republic.

He glanced to Aileni with a nod. "I'm with you, Aileni" The Jedi Padawan moved alongside him, flanking out left. The west gate could be seen from where they were. Yet some had chosen a more discreet way to enter the fortress. The Jedi's lightsaber clipped to his belt, yet had not been brought to his hand yet.

He reached for the blaster pistol first, set to stun and he fired off a few shots and some of their opponents as they approached. Several hitting their marks while cover began to be taken. Aiden in turn took cover, taking a small peak out. He knew he had to be careful, Mandalorians were a different breed.

He wasn't going to back down though.

While this was described as a test, skirmish. It was much more than that.

Tags@Open
RNR: Aileni Ifor Xeraic Lorn Reingard
Mandos: Open /​

 

[Dominique Vexx]

OBJECTIVE 1 - THE WAY OF PARLEY​

Dominique just smiled at Aurelian Veruna 's quip about Denon's lack of sleep because of its incalculable success. How could a Director, like herself, take that as anything but a compliment? Oh, sure, certain people would call it a back-handed compliment, but those people lacked vision -- and were often not a tenth as wealthy as the leaders of Denon.

"Well, you're always welcome to visit, Prince. Neither planet is any more wrong than the other. We are what we are, and together we're stronger for it," Dominique replied politely, but honestly. There certainly was a rustic charm to an artistic world like Naboo. The change in scenery and 'peace' of a world not bustling with activity every waking second made it a delightful resort destination. There were untapped resources to be sure, but there were others worlds for harvesting. Yes, Naboo was a gem that could be kept just as it was (at least until the galaxy ran out of planets, which shouldn't be any time soon).

Then Kalantha made the initial overtures for the Royal Naboo Republic, which demanded everyone's attention. It was always wise to make sure leaders didn't change the script without notice. In this case, fortunately -- talk of healing aside -- she kept things amicable and brief. Naturally, Aether Verd then had his peace to say in response for the Mandalorian side of the table. Politely dismissive of healing, but seemingly committed to the future.

With the Mand'alor's last statement, Dominique turned to regard Aurelian with a small smile and slight raise of her brows. Just as she'd said moments ago. Brevity was the soul of wit.

He, on the other hand, seemed taken with the Mandalorian's obsession with wearing their beskar'gam complete with helmet. What seemed an inquiry soon turned into practically belittling remark -- of the sort she hoped this Hall was not designed to carry straight into the audio pickups of those around them. Though that may very well be the man's intention despite his attempt at discretely whispering to his colleague. Hideous? Dominique patiently smiled as she listened to the man. "Perhaps I'll show you my collection later, my Nabooian Prince." If mystery and danger excited, she could certainly dangle an appetizing feast before him.

Just that quickly, Aurelian's demeanor changed as Sibylla Abrantes stepped forward. Dominique's eyes shifted in the direction of the woman. Yes, well, with the initial overtures concluded now it would be to setting the tone of their talks wouldn't it? The Mand'alor had asked it of them and now it would be delivered.

Yes, the Accord. Dominique was gratified they'd managed not to underline in red ink the Neo-Crusader's invasion of Deeja Peak at least. Their effort to call the Confederacy to task over their response had gone ever so well. No doubt the response here would not be so fiery, but it would be just as final. It had not, however, managed to keep them from subtly alluding to it.

Aurelian seemed pleased with the way it had unfolded. Touted his contribution to its development even. "Quite effective," Dominique responded regarding the woman's 'annoyingly competent' capability.

"Never leave negotiations to chance," she replied regarding olive branches.

With that, the lilac-haired woman took a step forward and bowed humbly in the presence of the Mand'alor Aether Verd . "Mand'alor, I am Dominique Vexx of Denon and the Queen's Economic Development Advisory Board. Separately, talk of trade between our two people should be pursued as well. The galaxy is a turbulent place these years, and a thriving Empire like yours can use materials, goods, and even increased production from factories abroad. In turn, your worlds have different materials, goods, and skills that would benefit us. While each of us is largely self-sustaining there often is more demand than there are means. It would please me if our governments could forge bonds in trade, as well as security, in the near future." No doubt they could make many arms, basilisk, ships, and more. Though that was hardly everything a bountiful Empire needed to function or keep its people satisfied. Agriculture, housing, medical supplies, and scientific journals were just a few items a very martially-capable people might find valuable.

If Aether had little comment in response warranting she remain forward, Dominique would politely step back to allow events to unfold as they should. The offer had been made; even if it was merely an offer to open trade negotiations. It would be enough of a beginning if they did not wish to get into the particulars here with such a large and diverse crowd.

Ze'bast Verd | Aselia Verd | Runi Kuryida | Kyrida Verd
Annis Riyaré | Auren Vellisar | Raigryn Vayd | Cassian Abrantes​

 

[Auren Vellisar]

OBJECTIVE I: The Path of Parley
LOCATION: The Court of Iron, Sundari, Mandalore
TAGS: Annis Riyaré | Raigryn Vayd | Dominique Vexx | Aurelian Veruna
Aether Verd | Sibylla Abrantes | Kalantha | Aselia Verd | Ze'bast Verd

​

Prince Aurelian Veruna wasted no time in parting ways with Auren Vellisar. The nobleman and representative of Jhaessa Prime showed little reaction to the prince's abrupt departure, instead turning his attention toward a nearby serving table. There, he noticed several jugs crafted in the distinctive Mandalorian style, though their shape reminded him somewhat of the elegant decanters used for wine back home in Theed.

Pouring himself a tall glass of red wine, Auren studied the colour before taking a sip, curious to see how it measured against Naboo's vintages. As the taste settled on his tongue, he turned back to observe the gathering court. Queen Kalantha had begun to speak, formally opening the diplomatic summit between the High Republic and the newly established Mandalorian Empire.

Once the Queen of Naboo, Kalantha now held the title of Chancellor of the High Republic. Soon, another would ascend to lead Naboo's monarchy. Though Auren no longer resided there, his connection to Naboo remained strong. It was his birthplace, the seat of House Vellisar, and the world where his family had made its name. While his current focus lay with Jhaessa Prime—a colonisation effort he now spearheaded alongside Dashiell Incorporated—his ties to Naboo were enduring.

He raised his glass again and took another sip, swirling the wine in his mouth before swallowing. It was not an exceptional vintage, but it held a respectable age and smooth character. Perhaps not suited for royal banquets, but certainly pleasant enough for an occasion such as this.

As Mand'alor Aether Verd addressed the assembly, Auren found himself quietly aligned with the man's words. Verd acknowledged the violent legacy of past Mandalorian crusades and the lives that had been lost as a result. Yet he also spoke of a desire to rebuild—with integrity, self-awareness, and a forward-looking vision. It was clear he understood the weight of his people's history and the fragile nature of their political relationships. After his address, Verd turned the floor over to the guests from the Republic.

Auren remained silent.

He had not sought permission from Queen Kalantha to speak on her behalf, nor had he intended to take an active diplomatic role today. His purpose here was clear: to stand in support of Naboo, Jhaessa Prime, and the broader goals of the High Republic. Sometimes presence alone was its own statement.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

​

Lorn could hear the jungle screaming. First came the thunder of impact, something massive, too fast, too deliberate. Then the war cry. It wasn't just noise; it meant something. He didn't flinch. Didn't move. Just breathed in through his nose, slow and even, as the Basilisk War Droid erupted from the tree line like a myth pulled from the deepest Mandalorian dreams. The turrets sparked under ion bursts. Gas clouds churned over the western wall. Comm chatter fractured into static.

So much for the plan. "Recalibrate turret two," he barked into the comms. "Redirect to ion neutralization. Squad Four... fall back from the ridge. You're blind in that smoke."

His voice cracked through the chaos like a blade drawn in a silent room. A leader's voice. But even as he gave the orders, he knew they were behind. A flash across the upper rampart, Maiz Tor'val . She moved like anger personified, her hands weaving strange energy. Lorn recognized power when he saw it, even if he didn't understand the how. "Target's breaching turret three," he said into the comms. "Vanguard, intercept now. No kill moves... contain."

Below, his senses brushed the edges of the Force, Kyric flaring like a dying star, conflicted, compelled. But he was holding. Lorn felt the burst of power as Kyric deflected a falling tree with a Force wave. "Good," he muttered. "Hold your line."

Another ping, Adonis Angelis IV down, then up again. Flank broken. Tunnel route compromised. There were two fronts now. One above. One below. Lorn turned sharply. " Aiden Porte , Aileni Ifor Xeraic , reposition east. Reinforce tunnel breach. Use the old chokepoint by the cistern. It'll funnel them. Voli Cholrass , stay with Dreidi Xeraic , I need that ridge held."

Then a flicker along the northern climb. Someone was coming up the wall, not like a foot soldier, but with purpose. Measured. Direct. Lorn reached out, not with his hand, but with the steady thrum of the Force. It found her. A Warmaster Runi Kuryida . She wasn't hiding. Wasn't even cautious. She was walking up this battlefield like she belonged in it.

He activated his saber, not with the violence of a soldier, but the precision of a duelist. A straight, controlled hum. No flourish. Just presence.

"Hold the wall," he told his team. Then he moved, not running, but approaching.

Stone cracked beneath his boots as he stepped to the central platform of the fortress. Runi was coming. Good. Maybe if they clashed here, measured, visible, it would pull the others back from the edge of real chaos. Maybe.

The air between them thickened as she crested the wall, beskar shining like coiled lightning in the sun. Lorn didn't shout. Didn't posture. He just raised his blade in salute, the kind a Jedi gave an equal.

"Warmaster," he said, voice cool and clear, "let's show them what strength with restraint looks like."

Spoiler

TLDR Actions: Issued updated commands to redirect turret fire against ion-emitting Basilisk and smoke-covered zones. Reassigned squads due to Mandalorian disruption of initial defenses. Recognized Maiz as an immediate threat to turret defenses and called for Vanguard intervention (non-lethal). Acknowledged Kyric's support and reinforced confidence in field reports. Redirected Aiden and Aileni to cover the eastern flank and tunnel breach, securing a chokepoint. Confirmed Dreidi and Voli's hold position to stabilize the southeast line. Detected Runi's approach and delegated command temporarily to confront her personally. Ignited lightsaber and moved to meet Runi directly on the central platform for a leadership duel, aiming to shift the tempo of the engagement.

@A WHOLE LOTTA OTHER MANDOS?​

 

[Runi Kuryida]

OBJECTIVE 2​

Runi had regarded Siv Kryze as he explained tactical options. "I will lead them in a direct assault. A squad can route through the drainage channels to test their ability to respond to the unexpected." The Shaman paused with a small smile. "I'll not have our first engagement with the Jedi start with them believing they had us retreating from the start." It was a solid option, but even in a wargame there were optics.

Speaking of the sewers, Jonah liked the idea of striking from both fronts as well. "Good." Who would refuse volunteers? Runi rolled her head a bit while her hazel eyes remain on the man. Experience Mandalore? That was precisely what she was thinking. Thankfully, he only called one Basilisk because while the Jedi needed a lesson they did not need to be annihilated.

" Janous Ryss , Adonis Angelis IV with me. Siv Kryze with Jonah ."

Once the battle had commenced...

Runi had donned her helmet out of respect for her opponent, and solidarity with her vod in battle. It born the skull of a beast, which made her an easy presence to mark on the field. She drew both wooden swords from her back as she purposefully marched toward Lorn Reingard 's position. His countenance didn't hold a hair of fear, only determination to repel the attackers. They were led by a strong warrior of their own; good.

The twin blades flared out and arched upward back to her center where they crossed in front of the shaman. "We will show them the discipline of warriors," her synthesized voice promised.

Runi would stop twenty paces from the man and slowly step into a stance. One blade was held before her, the other out to the side. She'd wait only a few seconds before she'd dart forward. One of them had to start the battle, and there was no better time to learn how Lord fought than in clashing blades.

What the Jedi might soon find curious was just how easily wooden swords withstood the unyielding edge of a lightsaber. Though a Jedi might also detect the Force (or Manda) as it surrounded and shielded the weapon from the physical rigors of battle (Force Weapon).

The strikes would be quick, but aimed carefully to test Lorn's defenses. Runi preferred to understand her more dangerous or experienced opponents before striving for a killing blow.

Maiz Tor'val
Kyric | Aiden Porte | Aileni Ifor Xeraic | Voli Cholrass | Dreidi Xeraic​

 

[Maiz Tor'val]

OBJECTIVE 2​

Maiz ripped her arm out from the turret and stood up with a flick of long strands of white hair. She drew back and gave the metal housing a kick that sounded more like striking a gong than a reinforced turret battery. Bright blue eyes narrowed to slits as despite the deformities to its very existence, the turret was still arguably in one piece. Evidently these galactic types had improved upon such weapon designs. Terrifying to think it might end up in the hands of the Darthiir.

The Elamshan Priestess scowled at the technological weapon before sounds of people approaching drew her attention. It occurred to her that she probably shouldn't have leapt into an enemy stronghold alone. Well, her Matron Mother had always said she could be rash when provoked. On the other hand, these outsiders shouldn't have provoked her! What if she'd been there for parley? To just ignore her like that had been offensive.

"Ah, blasters." Maiz had familiarized herself with the basic weaponry of the galaxy on that long flight to the planet. Mandalorians apparently carried much weaponry, which was quite illuminating. Hateful as their technology might be.

Before anything further could be said, they pulled the trigger. Maiz threw a hand up to deflect the blast, but found herself staggered by the blow with most of her right arm numb. A furrowed brow contorted her features. Was... this the 'stun' effect they'd spoken of for these exercises? The Darthiir never used 'stun' weaponry. They killed you or infected you. This was an entirely new experience and suddenly Maiz found all her battle plans in question.

"Show me what you've got," she snapped before the black woman darted around the side of the turret she'd beaten on earlier.

Lorn Reingard | OPEN​

 

[Ginjako Brorai]

Objective 2

It's hot, and the shade is doing nothing to help against that. That was the first thought that came to Ginjako's mind as he looked around while advancing to the fort. It almost reminded him of the bogs back in Ando, except for the fact that the plants are greener and bigger.

He had been ordered by his master to this "exercise" that would help forge relations between galactic nations. But he knew what this really was...a test. People called him slow on the uptake, but at least he was not going around thinking this was all friendly, just fun and games they say.

Well, if they wished to test the Mandalorians they wished to test him, and he would not fail. To fail would be to submit to the enemy. To admit inferiority. Ginjako would prove he deserves to stand as a Mandalorian Knight. To do that he needs to defeat an enemy of equal or better strength. In Ginjako's mind, that means another force user.

He checked his grapple gauntlets one last time, spun his blaster revolver and checked if the revolving cells were ready. Took note of his dual-sided training saber and started walking forward towards the fort.

As his part of the siege party approached, Ginjako reached into the Force to find another force user. He will make them submit to his will, and have them be a stepping stone to his path to greatness.

A jedi jumping over the fortress wall broke him out of his focus as ion blaster fire lit the jungle with a blue hue, his allies firing back and being fired at.

Spurred into action, he began firing at the high republic troopers atop the wall, when he realized that a young kid was holding the line ferociously with an energy bow. That kid had to go, if the troops around him were to take that portion of the wall.

Ginjako aimed his blaster revolver and fired a few ion bursts at the kid.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, boy" Ginjako said.

 

[Janous Ryss]

OBJECTIVE 2

When the orders were given, it came as a relief. While he didn't like the idea of marching up the front and testing his new metal body with all that ion, he would rather than wait and be stuck with his thoughts.

Being a Supercomando, it was his place after all. No matter how poorly it may go. Lifting his heavy M-45 repeating ion blaster as if it was weightless and marching forward with the rest, but as he advanced his sensors flashed something in front of him. Curiously glancing, he saw a tree about to crush his comrades only. . It went off course. Landing harmlessly near them.

Quickly he scanned around. The only power that could throw a tree was the force, meaning the possibility of nearby Jedi. He searched among his allies, friendly icons flashing across his vision but finding none who were in a position to have done the action. Turning to the trees, an unknown icon flashed for a moment in between the smoke as it fell from the tree line. He went to squint, only to remember the motion was lost to him.

Ignoring the feelings it evoked, he spoke into his com. "Possible Jedi flank spotted, investigating." He spoke in his metallic voice, cringing at even the sound of it, and he sprinted.

Long steel strides carried him quickly across the forest past his advancing allies. He knew he'd need to be fast to catch up with the Jedi to even catch their trail, so he raced deeper into the jungle.


The normal thrill of a worthy foe was. Damped. Like everything else, it was dulled. It enraged him, but he didn't have time for feelings dulled or not. All that mattered was winning for Mandalore. Though. . The possibility of defeating a Jedi did offer some comfort.

Janous slowed as icons appeared in his vision. Friendly and unknown were tagged. Hearing the confusion in front of him.

"I don't care if you're Jedi or some drifter in borrowed robes." His voice took on an edge, not sharp, but firm. "You came looking for something."

He unclipped the hilt fully, let it hang in his hand. It hummed faintly- alive but sleeping.

"So don't make me ask twice."

He turned his head slowly, scanning the trees. There was no movement. Just the feeling of being measured. Just the certainty of being seen.

"Come out," he said, voice iron. "Let's see if you brought anything worth showing."

"I s'ppose you could say that, sure," Kyric admitted. "I'm lookin' for a dance partner if you're keen to do-si-do."

Janous cursed himself. Someone had beat him to it. Though he should know, he should be grateful. With his new. . Form, he couldn't reliably be sure he could take on a Jedi in single combat. Despite so wanting to.

He discarded all secrecy and walked forward to the confrontation. He would not have his first engagement to stab his foe in the back in the middle of a duel. Rather he'd be melted to slag then that is how he returned to war.

"I hope you are able to handle more than one partner then, Jedi." he said. If they weren't aware of the giant cyborg they would be very much so now.

He likely struck an imposing figure. Standing near eight feet tall, he towered over either of them, looming above looking like a battle droid instead of any proper Mandalorian warrior. Janous held the blaster as he spoke, not aiming it yet. Fully prepared to go for the vibroblade at his hip.

Adonis Angelis IV Kyric Runi Kuryida

 

[Adonis Angelis IV]

Objective II
Tag: Kyric Janous Ryss

Adonis heard the heavy footfalls before the voice.

Steel crushing jungle floor. A rhythm not born of nature, but of war. He didn't have to turn to know who it was.

Janous.

The cyborg's silhouette cut through the haze like a walking monument, eight feet of iron, menace, and barely-contained violence. Smoke curled off his frame as he emerged, blaster in hand, not yet raised. The voice that followed was metal-sheathed and scorched at the edges.

He didn't turn right away. Instead, he watched Kyric- watched how the katana hung at his hip, not quite like a Jedi's saber. There was history there. A style not taught in any Order. It was unconventional, seemed personal, seemed sharp. Adonis could admire that.

He stepped forward into the clearing, just enough to let the jungle light catch the contours of his face. His hand let go of the saber hilt and let it fall back to his belt. Not discarded. Just… unnecessary.

He rolled his shoulders once. Then cocked both arms at the elbows, fists flexing as the joints of his armor realigned with a hard clack-clack- like loading twin rounds into the chamber.

"I figured I'd get into brawls in my twenties," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Didn't think they'd look like this."

Kyric had power. He could feel it in the air, like ozone before a lightning strike. But so did Janous, in his own way. Together, they'd box the Jedi in, flank him, and wear him down if he wasn't smart.

Fine.

He didn't need a saber for this. He didn't even want it.

He raised his fists and dropped into a tight, aggressive stance- shoulders squared, weight forward, style drawn from Mandalorian military grappling but adapted to his own raw edge. No frills. All power.

"Janous," he called over his shoulder, voice steady, "push him when he's open. I'll draw the blade. You make it hurt."

He wasn't sure if the cyborg would respond. He didn't need to, they were Mandalorian, the orders had already been understood.

Adonis looked back at Kyric and gave the barest nod. Respect- not for his robes, or the lightsaber he didn't carry, but for showing up when challenged.

"Nice blade," he said, chin dipping toward the sheathed katana. "Not what I expected from a Jedi."

He stepped forward, slowly, boots sinking slightly into the mossy jungle floor.

"But then again, I'm not what people expect from a Mandalorian either."

Then he launched.

It wasn't flashy- just sudden, precise violence. A sharp feint left to bait the blade, then a twist of the hips and a driving elbow aimed toward Kyric's sternum. Whether it landed or not didn't matter. He wanted to get inside the katana's reach, force Kyric into close-quarters where the blade was harder to maneuver.

His right hand shot up to seize the wrist if the Jedi swung, his legs coiling beneath him, ready to slam the man into the soft jungle floor if the grapple held. Every motion was tight. Efficient. The kind of combat you learned in mud, not temples.

If Janous opened fire behind him, Adonis trusted it would be with precision. Suppression. Pressure. He didn't need cover, he needed chaos. A moment, a slip up, to seize the control.

This wasn't about points. Or rank.

This was about domination of space and timing.

The Mandalorian way.

 

[Kalantha]

A NEW DAWN
… a High Republic Story

​

Kalantha couldn't help but let the corners of her lips curl at Aether's distaste for Alliance statespersons. She herself held similar sentiments of... not being impressed, by their politicking. Though in their defense, Kalantha wasn't entirely sure she could rein in one of her diplomats if the events at Dee'ja Peak were still raw in their minds. All she could do was hope that respect for decorum and for their Queen would keep their emotions in check, and stars willing, this meeting would proceed without undue excitement.

To the Mand'alor's question, Kalantha nodded.

"The Republic's ultimate goal is to forge something new between our nation and that of Mandalore. To forgive the sins of our fathers, to rise above the pettiness of war and pillaging, and to find comradeship among the stars - which, as you know, are no longer where they were meant to be."

She turned her focus to Dominique Vexx as the Denonite spoke, nodding her support for the Chair of the Economic Development Advisory Board. Vexx was a Corporatist at heart, but there was not denying the woman's skills and capabilities. Kalantha fully trusted her to articulate the Republic's trade policies and needs well.

"Trade, diplomatic cooperation, and mutual protection: these are the three facets that most interest the Republic," Kalantha said after her delegates were finished. A quick summation of their contributions to the conversation. She regarded Aether with curiosity, as she turned his question back onto him.

"What is it that the Mandalorian Empire seeks?"

Tags: Aether Verd | Annis Riyaré | Aurelian Veruna | Auren Vellisar | Dominique Vexx | Raigryn Vayd | Sibylla Abrantes​

 

[Aileni Ifor Xeraic]

Objective: 2
Attire: Large brown hoodie, grey shirt
Equipment: Dathomiri Energy Bow, Practice saber
Tag: Lorn Reingard | Aiden Porte (Allies) | Ginjako Brorai (Opponent)

The fight was kicking off and Aileni trusted Lorn and his judgements on how they needed to act. It was a contentious Master/student interaction between the two, Aileni was strong minded and very outspoken on what he thought should be done. He was never going to keep his mouth quiet but Aileni also knew when a leader needed to step up and give orders without question. This was one of those times and Lorn was clearly someone weighed down by everything he saw, but he hadn't demonstrated anything to Aileni yet that made him question the validity of his leadership.

Seeing Aiden and feeling his uncle offering support, Aileni was relieved, it was good to have someone who was encouraging him in a more traditional sense. Nodding his head to Aiden, "hopefully I don't show you up too much then," Aileni teased, feeling a little cocky with his attitude and keen to see what he could do in this fight. Especially since it was a chance to really show off what made Aileni of.

As soon as he spotted the Mandalorians, Aileni extended his bow, ready to fire as soon as they got into his range. The young Padawan felt the most in control of his skills while he was using his bow, it was his safety weapon where his skills were the most advanced. He was capable of stylish trick shots and moves that were impractical but looked very cool, as much as he was capable of pulling off very difficult shots that few could match Aileni on.

Breathing out, he fired a couple shots at the Mandalorians as they approached. His arrows impacted several Mandalorians as they charged towards the fortress. Seeing a couple soldiers getting hit by stun bolts, Aileni spotted the Mandalorian firing at them. Before he could get another shot off, Aileni realised that he was the next target. His body twisted and acrobatically manoeuvred itself out of the way. Dancing around the bolts on the wall, Aileni's keen eyes kept an eye out for the moment that things changed.

Then he fired several shots in rapid succession towards the Mandalorian.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

​

The Mandalorian Warmaster moved like thunder in a bottle, controlled and unrelenting. As she crested the wall, Lorn could feel the tension ripple through the Force like a taut wire. It wasn't hatred. It wasn't bloodlust. It was discipline. As promised. He inclined his head slightly at her words, voice steady. "Then may our discipline leave no room for doubt."

She charged. He brought his saber around in a clean crescent, intercepting it with a sharp snap of contact. His saber didn't burn the wood.

The Force surged through her weapons, enchanted or something akin to it. His mind registered the anomaly without missing a beat. Force Weapon. Good. That meant he didn't need to hold back as much.

Her technique wasn't just Mandalorian brute force, it was measured, tested. A dance of violence and reading. He responded in kind.

Lorn circled a step left, pivoted sharply on his heel, and feinted a high strike toward Runi's head, then dropped low at the last second, spinning on one knee and lashing a wide horizontal sweep toward her legs, saber still set to stun. He didn't commit the full momentum, keeping his center of gravity tight, poised to spring back in a fraction of a second.

This wasn't a lightsaber duel. This was something else. Runi wasn't testing for weaknesses. She was measuring strength.

And so was he.

Runi Kuryida​

 

[Aether Verd]

Assets: Beskar'gam | Basilisk
Darksaber | Resolute Dawn​

COURT OF IRON

The Mand’alor did not speak when the side door opened. He did not turn when the familiar footfalls of his kin echoed through the chamber, nor when the shadow of crimson and black settled at his right, or when the worn and weathered figure of Ze’bast claimed the left. But something changed. The tension that had held fast in his shoulders, as if bearing the weight of memory and mandate both, lessened. Not completely, but enough.

When the Supercommando stepped forward and handed him the tablet, Aether took it with a firm nod and no flourish. His gaze dropped to the screen, visor dark and still, tracking line by line as the young representative spoke. As Sibylla laid out the four commitments of the proposed accord, his mind moved in tandem with her words. Structured. Measured. Not a bid to chain Mandalore to another cause, not a plea for blind allegiance. No, this had been studied. She knew what had been done to his people before. The Republic, at least as it stood now, did not wish to repeat it.

“Thank you,” he said at the end of her address, voice even but carrying. “For the overview. And for the plainness of it.”

Even as he spoke, the edges of his awareness sharpened. The sound of hushed words, hushed only to those who didn’t wear helms built to catch every shift in the air. Aurelian Veruna was whispering again. Aether did not catch the exact phrasing, but he didn’t need to. The man lived as he breathed: smooth, intentional, and always playing to some unseen rhythm. Aether neither frowned nor indulged it. He simply filed the moment away.

Then came the Denonite, Dominique Vexx, composed and efficient, stepped forward with words about trade. His visor tilted in her direction, head inclining slightly in acknowledgment. She was not wrong. Trade brought prosperity. It also brought dependency. And Mandalore, though rising still from ash and ruin, was being shaped to stand without needing others to catch it. That did not mean her words lacked merit.

“I thank you.” he said, “For your hopes. And for your clarity.”

Finally, the Queen. She summarized all with calm precision: Trade, Diplomacy, and Protection. Not dissimilar from what had been offered before by others wearing different crests, carrying different flags. But this time… this time felt different.

Aether Verd stood not from his throne, but in word alone.

“Mandalore is tired.” he said plainly, the sentence heavy with more than the weight of sound. “Tired of being broken only to be rebuilt. Tired of burying our own beneath the banners of others. Tired of offering steel and blood for causes that forget our names the moment the battlefield is cleared.”

He let that truth settle, unashamed of the fatigue he named.

“We do not seek to be an instrument of Light, nor an agent of Darkness. We seek to stand apart from their eternal war, not as bystanders, but as a people whole and sovereign. We seek unity: not to be dissolved into something else, but to become something stronger than we were.”

His hand drifted to the tablet again, the words of the accord shining softly upon its surface.

“These terms,” he said, “they do not make Mandalore a pawn. They do not ask us to kneel or to serve. They ask for partnership. And that… is something we are willing to forge.”

“Trade, too, can be part of that forging. Mandalore has no shortage of resources, from ores, alloys, salvaged remnants from wars past, even agricultural surpluses from reclaimed worlds. These we are willing to exchange for the luxuries and refinements the Republic is known for. Let it be understood, however...beskar is sacred to our people. It is not a commodity. It will not be bartered or brokered, not now, not ever. But there are other boons we hold in ample supply.”

“And above all, our chief export has always been warfare. In discipline. In technology. In warriors. That edge can be turned in service of stability, when wielded with purpose. So long as our terms are honored, and our people respected, there is room for much to be built between us.”

Aether’s head inclined slightly, once, with purpose.

“That said...The Treaty of Twin Crowns is agreeable as written. I have but one request.”

He looked toward Sibylla now, not unkindly, but as one might regard a comrade who had walked willingly into a den of wolves and returned not just unbitten, but bearing terms.

“That Sibylla Abrantes be granted the honor of serving as ambassador to Mandalore, if it suits your Republic.”

His voice did not rise, nor did his tone shift to command. But there was no mistaking the weight behind the request.

Then he was silent once more, the Iron throne behind him, the Court before him, and the future waiting.​

Kalantha | Annis Riyaré | Aurelian Veruna | Auren Vellisar | Dominique Vexx | Raigryn Vayd | Sibylla Abrantes | Ze'bast Verd | Aselia Verd

 

[Jonah]

The jungle roared.

Far behind him, the Basilisk bellowed once more, its digitized war cry tearing through the canopy like a blade through silk. Stun fire and gas bursts rained down across the western ridge, turrets sparked and spat into empty trees, and half the Republic’s forward emplacements scrambled to correct their aim. Just as it was meant to.

Jonah didn’t look back. He didn’t need to. The lone war beast was doing its job: drawing fire, sowing chaos, and leaving a hole wide enough for warriors to slip through. He felt it in the shift of the underbrush, the staggered rhythm of enemy movement, the way the air grew thicker, slower, unready. The Republic thought they were ready for Mandalorians.

They weren’t ready for him.

His approach wound through tangled roots and angled stone, shadows wrapping around his armor like old friends. The HUD pinged. Friendly signature. Adonis. Close. Jonah felt the heat of his kin's presence nearby, kinetic and focused, drawn toward conflict like a blade to a whetstone. He didn’t need to see the clash to trust it. Adonis was fire given form: deliberate, brutal, and relentless.

Jonah let him go, gave the confrontation a wide berth. There were other fires to stoke.

Then he saw her.

A flash of white and gold through the treeline. A cape curling behind her like a wave of command. Alina Grayson surged through the haze ahead, her stride like thunder, her purpose undeniable. The Force curled around her, clean and sharp.

Familiarity flared in Jonah’s eyes. They had shared no words before this war game, no promises. But he remembered her well. And now? She was hunting him.

His grip tightened on the blunted blade at his side. A storm moved through his chest. It swelled in silence, then broke in a cry that tore from his helm like a hammer to the heart of the jungle.

He launched forward in a single, surging motion. The Force answered him, coiling around his frame, driving his leap through the low canopy. Branches bent. Leaves scattered. Mud flew from the soles of his boots as he closed the distance in a heartbeat.

Steel met intention.

He came down toward her like the arc of a falling star, his blade drawn high, his posture coiled to strike not with hatred, but with the weight of a challenge.

Let the Jedi bring light. He would bring the storm.

Tag: Alina Grayson Lorn Reingard Dreidi Xeraic Voli Cholrass Aiden Porte Kyric Aileni Ifor Xeraic Runi Kuryida Adonis Angelis IV Janous Ryss Maiz Tor'val + Open

 

[Malachi Vokat]

NEW COV
Objective II - Stratosphere​

The N-1 dove like a sunbeam turned predator, slicing low across the treetops in a maneuver that made Malachi’s HUD flicker with kinetic readouts and proximity alerts. The Mandalorian grunted in appreciation. This pilot wasn’t scrambling. He was inviting the chase.

So Malachi obliged.

His fingers danced across the throttle and stick as the Fang-type starfighter twisted into pursuit, engines snarling with simulated fury. The targeting reticle fluttered over the Naboo ship’s streamlined hull, never quite locking with satisfaction, always one vector behind. He squeezed the trigger anyway.

Twin training bursts lanced out: bright bolts of stun-calibrated energy, trailing just behind the N-1’s ion wash. One shot whistled over the stabilizer fins, another fizzled harmlessly into the tree canopy below. A third hoped to find its mark near the rear shielding, but the angle was too shallow to trigger a proper hit registration. His console blinked yellow instead of red.

“Tch. Fast little chakaar.”

Malachi narrowed his eyes behind the visor and adjusted the yaw, dipping into the same trench of atmosphere Daniel had taken. The eddies of heat off the jungle distorted his readouts, and the N-1’s size made it a slippery target. Even so, he trailed the Naboo pilot like a wolf learning its prey’s rhythm.

He fired again: three short bursts in a staggered sequence, meant more to harry than hit. The first shot veered wide, mistimed for the angle of descent. The second came close, but missed the mark. The third skipped past with a whispering scorch, no impact but a warning.

Malachi grinned behind his helmet, teeth bared in delight.

This was flying.

There were no theatrics. No political weight behind the yoke. Just one warrior testing another through speed, instinct, and nerve. He let the nose of his craft dip slightly, catching the tailwind, and realigned for a new firing solution. His reticle flickered orange, then red, then fell away again.

“Keep dancing, Naboo. Let’s see how long you last.”

The Fang banked low again, matching the N-1’s movements step for step. It wasn't perfect, nor precise, but relentless. The hunt had begun, and Malachi would not be shaken off easily.

Daniel Washburne​

Spoiler: Roll!

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

“Trade, too, can be part of that forging. Mandalore has no shortage of resources, from ores, alloys, salvaged remnants from wars past, even agricultural surpluses from reclaimed worlds.

Raigryn had remained a relatively passive observer. All of these events required some decorum and management before they broke out into groups and got down to brass tacks.

Trade was his interest, both from a personal position and as a representative of Naboo. Conflicts of interest were seen as a minor inconvenience of paperwork to Raigryn's kind of people. That being older men with connections and wealth.

“That Sibylla Abrantes be granted the honor of serving as ambassador to Mandalore, if it suits your Republic.”

Raigryn spared the young woman a glance. This was either pre-arranged or she had weighed up the options very well.

Ambition and foresight made for a strong combination or a dangerous one. He would have to speak more closely to the young woman in private and get more of a sense of what she was about. He would present his usual outward demeanour of a retired gentleman to see if she saw that he still had a little ambition. At least he did, when he was sober enough.

 

[Runi Kuryida]

Their blades met and held for a beat. Runi released the lock only to follow it up with another quick strike followed by a heavier one. The Jedi stepped out of the line of attack and initiated his own counter. A mobile opponent was welcome; footwork should always be part of a good sparring session.

That's what a wargame was to a Mandalorian. A full-contact, no holds-barred exercise. The Jedi and Republic warriors wouldn't find themselves suffering from dishonorable maneuvers that being said. Unless they considered exploiting a weaker attack route, such as the sewers, dishonorable -- but that was what this exchange was good for them. There was no such thing as a dishonorable infiltration of the enemy stronghold. Mandalorians were known for being insanely direct in their frontal assault, but that did not mean it was their only acceptable strategy.

Lorn's feint warranted a blade risen to defend her head. The Jedi Knight lacked an obvious tell that made him an effective opponent on the field, Runi was not aware of his true intent until the man dropped to the ground. Bold. She would remember this.

A loud clack was drowned out with the flare of a saber; the Shaman had dropped to a knee as well and stabbed a blade's point into the ground to catch the sweeping training saber. The skull helm turned slight to look at the Jedi half a second before the second saber was thrust over her arm at the man's head or upper body.

Lorn Reingard​

 

[Maiz Tor'val]

An avalanche of stone loudly slamming together filled the air. Maiz stood with both hands out in front of her as a wall of vine sprouted from the planet; it woven between the stone before it erupted and shoved unnecessary mass aside -- the materials of the fortress wall itself -- to form a barrier. The Elamshan Priestess had found what the Republic soldiers had to be... sufficient. Far too many blasters from too many directions. Typically, Maiz would have had others supporting her efforts rather than going solo, but this was not Elamsha.

Their pursuit cut off, the blue-eyed woman turned to examine her surroundings only to find Aiden Porte and Aileni Ifor Xeraic there holding off the advance of Mandalorians.

"Is that a lance caster?" Maiz called out. They probably didn't know what the term meant, but it was what her people had called an energy bow -- or near enough the young Priestess had deduced in Basic.

Was now the time to ask questions? Should she be asking questions of Jedi when they didn't even know who she was, presuming they didn't know she had arrived with the Mandalorians? Well, it wasn't absentmindedness that caused Maiz to forget where she was. It was simply an abundance of confidence. The very same that had had the Elamshan woman chased over the ramparts of the fortress moments ago.

Ginjako Brorai​

 

[Aiden Porte]

"hopefully I don't show you up too much then,"

Aiden couldn't help but smirk as his nephew. "Hopefully not too much." He reponsed back with a teasing tone. HIs focus shifting at the call to reposition east from Lorn Reingard

He fired off a few shots, as they were about to start their change in course, which would be met with further resistance from the Mandos. It wouldn't be a distance fight. The skirmish was now shifting to close quarters. The Jedi reached for his blade, calling it to his hand.

"Stay focused, Aileni! Trust in yourself, and in the force."

There were a few that advanced at first, Aidens quickness showing now deflecting attacks from two that had approached, and the third utilizing the jet pack to reach a higher distance from him. No doubt a distraction for the duo that was Uncle and Nephew. Aiden's hand shot forward sending a force push towards the duo of Mandalorians in front of him, knocking them off balance and backwards.

Stun rounds soon followed from the third that was perched above them, which Aiden carefully deflected before the perched warrior repositioned himself again.

"Is that a lance caster?"

Aiden glanced towards the woman that spoke from afar, she was speaking to Aileni.

A distraction maybe, it was something unusual.

Aileni Ifor Xeraic
Maiz Tor'val

 

[Lorn Reingard]

​

The clack of Runi's blade striking stone echoed up through Lorn's knee as she grounded her defense, catching his sweep like a pillar rooted in tradition. There was no flourish in her movement, no dramatic flash, just brutal efficiency. The kind you only earned by surviving dozens of fights.

Lorn's saber hissed against the Force-wreathed wood as it halted. His momentum bled away, coiled tension giving way to the next threat. And it came fast. He saw her other blade, thrusting over her shoulder ,angled smartly, aimed for the gap he'd just made by lowering himself. Not fast enough. The wooden tip caught the edge of his shoulder plate as he twisted away, the shock dispersing across his armor. Not lethal, not deep, but enough to sting. Enough to mark.

He let the contact push him into motion, not retreating but rolling sideways in a tight arc and coming up low at her side. His saber flicked off briefly with a hiss and then re-ignited instantly as he reversed his grip, coming up under her outer arm in a vertical arc from hip to shoulder. A fast strike, drawn close, where beskar couldn't cover everything.

And as he struck, he spoke, not a taunt, not a warning. A truth. "You don't fight like someone with something to prove. You fight like someone with nothing to lose." And that was the kind of person he respected. Even as they tried to hit each other.

Runi Kuryida​