Mission Iron & Dust || COV (Open to THR)

[Kjartan Hammer-Hand]

KJARTAN HAMMER-HAND
ABOARD THE VOD’GAM | RYLOTH - HIGH ORBIT
TAG: Kalantha | Duncan Avaron | Seva Beroya

THEME​

Turbolaser fire raked across the surface of Ryloth, devastating the airfields dotting the landscape. Kjartan eyed the battlespace readouts, showing swift reduction in strength of his foe. A feral grin lined his bearded face. His attention was soon diverted by the arrival of the Republic vanguard. “Scramble our remaining fighter squadrons, but keep them close. Begin area denial patterns with our flak and point defense batteries, and get me targeting solutions on the lead ships. Let’s show them the meaning of aaray”

The balance of the Vod’gam’s starfighter compliment surged from their hangar bays simultaneously as the flak batteries of the star destroyer began peppering the void in front of them with clouds of anti-starfighter bursts. Flight plans were broadcast over secure channels to the starfighters deployed, so they could avoid the flak clouds and restrict their routing to the safe pathways left untouched. This was a tactic often used by the seasoned pirate - numerical advantages meant nothing if they were all funnelled into narrow corridors.

"This is Zandra to Warchief Kjartan Hammer-Hand Kjartan Hammer-Hand . I'm in one of the Republic gunboats, making my way to the CIC room now. Expect to see some friendly fire against enemy starfighters. Try not to blow it up until I'm off ship."

As the battle began to unfold, Zandra’s hail came through the bridge comm frequency, which was immediately patched through to the warchief’s terminal. The commando’s signal shone brightly in the Vod’gam’s tactical display, which illustrated her aboard one of the Republic ships near the center of their formation. Kjartan turned to the tactical officer.

“You heard her.”

The tactical officer nodded, sent a confirmation to the command, and replied back. “Firing solutions have been adjusted. We are ready for our opening salvo at your command.”

Kjartan paused, relishing the feeling of battle about to be joined. He took in a breath, then opened his eyes. “OPEN FIRE!”

The balance of the Vod’gam’s arsenal shifted into place, everything from the Angband hypermatter cannons, M5 mass driver cannons, scores of turbolaser and missile batteries all locked onto their targets, and once the order was given, fired in unison.

The star destroyer lurched from the sheer magnitude of the volley, with high velocity ordnance closing the distance and smashing into their intended targets. The force arrayed against the Mandalorian blockade was small and manageable for now, but they needed to be eliminated before reinforcements trickled in. The weight of the first volley went a long way to that end. The salvo of hypermatter and mass driver rounds smashed into the hulls of the lead vessels, which were mainly frigate and cruiser tonnages. Their deflector shields shimmered violently in protest, with gouts of flame erupting where they failed and the shots found purchase upon their hulls. The following turbolaser fire raked across the hulls of the ships, with a few beginning to lose power from the trauma of the initial volley.

Despite the effect of the opening salvo, Kjartan was not one to rely on the first punch. “Direct all spare power to the forward deflector shields. Ready countermeasures at my command!”

​

 

[Rohrkell Vætir]

​

​

| Location | Lessu, Ryloth​

| Objective | Die a Glorious Death​

​

<"COME ON YOU DOGS! SHOW THEM YOUR FANGS! RIP AND TEAR TILL THEY SCREAM FOR MERCY!"> Rohrkell screamed over the sounds of battle. The adrenaline and thrill of battle coursed through his veins, like a powerful drug.​

​

Sæx and hatchet in hand, both swinging viciously in rhythm as the Mandalorian warrior cut through the ranks of scattered and confused militiamen. He swung his hatchet upward as its blade found itself lodged in the chin of a Twi'lek, Rohrkell twisting and turning his body as the blade's heel hooked the lifeless body over his shoulder, easily lifting the body to turn it towards the enemy, using it as a meatshield. ​

​

The body of the Twi'lek shifted as blaster bolts bore into their back, the lifeless body shambling towards his former comrades like a grotesque puppet. One of the militamen's blaster overheated as it began to vent the excess heat, only for the shadow of the corpse to fall upon him. Rohrkell shifted his hatchet as the body was unhooked from its blade and dropped on top of the unprepared Twi'lek, causing the living and dead to fall to the ground. ​

​

A deft turn of his body, pulling his arm back as he threw his hatchet at the nearest Twi'lek unfortunate to be in his proximity. The head buried itself in their chest, sweeping them off their feet as they fell on their back dead. Rohrkell dropped down on top of the Twi'lek, who was struggling to get his dead comrade off him. ​

​

Still too slow. Rohrkell raised his sæx above his head in one hand and began to viciously drive its blade his enemy. First, the chest to weaken them, and then the throat to finish them. A swift twist of the blade ensured the kill as the Mandalorian reveled in the thrill of it all. Despite the melee handicap, Rohrkell still adapted to the battle, moving from cover to cover, using bodies as meatshields when needed to close gaps, carving a vicious path to the rest of his allies.​

​

[ Open ]​

​

 

[Carduul Akahl]

City Streets | Ryloth
Tags: Vren Rook | Sahan Dragr | Darion of Myrkr | Yuri Maji | Vara Rasha | Kamon Hourn | Rohrkell Vætir | Seva Beroya
Now. : Gavin Restur

Gaze narrowed from behind the armor. Wretches like these were why his people would never be safe, no matter what they did. What story did they hold, he wondered? Were they merely another sadist, seeking succor from their blood? Were they like the Jedi—a sycophant masquerading as a bleeding heart of gold? Or perhaps somewhere in-between?

The opening strike was parried as expected, with Carduul not placing much weight behind the attack. A good thing, as he quickly found the need to defend himself. The tip was pulled back, swiftly crossing over his form to divert the flurry of blows that came towards him. A step back was made diagonally to the right, several blows coming narrowly close to grazing, but all just barely missing their mark. Each redirection of his opponent was made with precise movements, never exerting more effort than necessary to do so. It was reminiscent of another he fought, though altogether different. Still, as they advanced towards him, the wretch saw fit to taunt him.

Perhaps they saw it as a game. The cocksure man was lucky he was here on a diplomatic mission, and not otherwise. “You will have to earn that right, wretch.” He blandly replied, just as the other stepped into a closer range. One that would be a bit difficult to maneuver the poleaxe once it was locked blade-to-staff; yet it was still a mistake to believe he was defenseless. A single step shifted forwards to meet him, an arm lifting to intercept the one intended to bring the shield to his face. Only to then attempt to wrap over and around it, leveraging his own weight and pulling down. With this motion, he aimed aiming to shove the man directly into an armored knee. In the deliverance of the blow, the bounty hunter would be sent aback, creating the space needed for the next movement; a fast twist of the poleaxe saw it wrenched from the lock, wheeling around in a flourish as it was taken in both hands again.

“You’ve nary proven much aside from being eager to die. And for what?” The Mandalorian was momentarily obscured by the flowing cape, rounding about in what would’ve seemed to be an overly elaborate, elegant motion. At least, that was before the next blow came towards the other from behind its shadow—a ruse created by movement alone. T’was a cleaving blow that aimed at the feet from a distance, which could’ve well severed his right foot from the ankle if not reacted to fast enough.

The once-Rallymaster flowed surprisingly well for what many believed to be a heavily-armored brute. Yet, suddenly, the ground quaked as if the very planet was coming apart that moment. The shriek of weapons fire and an anguished, metallic howl saw his rhythm disrupted as heavy blaster fire strafed far too close to their position. His jetpack activated in a short burst, zipping to the side in a spur of a movement only for armored boots to drag across disturbed ground.

...a volley of Proton Torpedoes were dropped in the wake of Baby’s flight over the city. The droid banked and fired relentlessly with his rotary particle cannon and laser cannons, tearing anything and everything apart that he could see. His line of fire came dangerously close to the Mandalorians spread out across the city...

…The furred cape billowed against the gust of wind and dust kicked up once again, gaze tilting upwards at...nothing short of devastation. The likes of which he hadn’t seen since the Crusade—yet somehow, he doubted it was anything done on purpose. “Oh…no, this wasn't-” A hushed whisper left the helm, staring for a brief moment above. The price of war would rear its head, even now. It all boiled into rage- or was it anguish? How many lives, Mandalorian and otherwise, were spent on this pointless skirmish? They weren't here to conquer, to enlighten their ways to others- yet still he found himself in the center of that same field of battle as the crusade. Only it was all on accident. That made it all worse; why was this the result they saw when it wasn't even the intended outcome? “...Our pride and honor were set aside to be here, yet this is all that was given! Even when we try to escape…again we are forced to take on our role.”

A dry ‘hah’ escaped the helm, as he turned to face his foe with the poleaxe readying again. “You will not harry me any longer.” The next burst of motion was marked not by a deliberate step, but by the shriek of propulsion from his jetpack. As fast as a blink of an eye, Carduul was nearly in Gavin’s face, launching the devastating blunt end towards him with an upwards cleave aimed to the hip.

 

[Fenn Stag]

FENN STAG
CITY STREETS | RYLOTH
TAG: Vren Rook l Sahan Dragr l Darion of Myrkr l Kamon Hourn l
GEAR: COMBAT GEAR

RUN LIKE HELL​

The gunfire, became a crescendo. The reverberation of a dropship, the screech of engines- close air support. He wasn't too sure if it was his or not in the chaos of the moment. Fenn screamed at the squad or so that was left around him to tuck in even tighter. Then-

The world outside turned into a maelstrom, a conductor above them orchestrating destruction and death. Lethal fire from the gunship ripped the defenders apart, scattering the E-web into atoms and the defenders quite literally ripped to shreds. The entire ordeal was just a few moments long, but felt like a lifetime with how loud it was. His helmet's audio processors actually turned off- and he was left in a brief moment of silence.

He pressed his palms to the ground, peeking his head over his covered position. The militiamen had scattered, off to regroup and lick their wounds. Dead troops lie in the street. Fenn vaulted over his cover, gathering up his fellow Mandalorians. The entire mission had gone to hell. Everything had. The Republic was going to have a field day with this-

But he had no intention of sticking around to explain things.

He just had to run like hell.

Four-hundred meters to the spaceport. If there wasn't an extraction waiting for him, well-

He'd find one.

He wasn't going to be at the mercy of the Republic's justice system. He had no intention of being taken prisoner, or dying here. He was going home. They were going home. The Mandalorians did not leave a fallen comrade. They took their dead with them, even as they retreated. Sixteen Mandalorians were with him initially. Twelve remained, including him. They'd get their brothers and sisters home. That much, he promised himself.

 

[Gavin Restur]

Equipment: Dual Blaster Pistols, Forcepike, Cycler Rifle, Rocket Boots, Rebreather + Tubes, Misc.
TAGS: Carduul Akahl
​

["You will have to earn that right, wretch."]

"Earn, you say? Putting yourself up on a high pedest-"

CRACK. The armored knee of Carduul Akahl slammed into his head. The intended result was achieved, as the man was sent back from the blow, his free hand lifting to hold onto his face.

["You've nary proven much aside from being eager to die. And for what?"]

The hand that was clutching his face lowered slightly, using the back of his hand to wipe a crimson stain from his mouth. Another grin forming, after. "You'll find out once you're bleedin' to death on the floor."

As the Mandalorian obscured himself with his cape, Gavin would take a predominantly defense stance, his shield and forcepike held in front of himself. He had a feeling that an attack was coming, and he was quickly proven right, as the poleaxe swung low to strike his ankle. A quick hop backwards led to the attack missing, and more importantly, left the Mandalorian wide open. There was a rush forwards, blitzing as the forcepike was reeled back, looking t-

His plans to capitalize on the opportunity were ruined, once the ground began violently rumbling. His footing was thrown for a spin, as he barely managed to prevent himself from tumbling over completely. The closing in of gunfire from the skies prompted the man to, with a brief burst from his rocketboots, leap back and away. Boots dragging along the ground afterwards, a hand lifting up to grab hold of his hat to ensure it didn't fly away from the dust and wind that picked up.

After it had all settled, his hand would lower, as he also took a moment to witness the devastation that had just occurred. Eyes had widened, as all that surrounded him and the warrior across from him was fire and rubble. Nothing but death and destruction.

His free hand slowly clenched into a fist.

That was all they ever brought, wasn't it? All the Mandalorians ever did was bring death and destruction wherever they went. An endless slaughter of anyone who happened to find themselves on the wrong side. Villages, towns, cities-- all burned to the ground. By their hands.

["...Our pride and honor were set aside to be here, yet this is all that was given! Even when we try to escape…again we are forced to take on our role."]

"Take one second to see this all from outside the bias that visor brings, and see what you people do, Mandalorian. What you've always done, and always will do. Bring utter chaos and destruction. All of your talk about honor, and for what? To kill more civilians? There's hardly any honor, in that." The time for jokes was gone. His demeanor changed entirely, as there was a flourish of his forcepike. The setting was changed up to the max level, and the forcepike was braced on his shoulder.

["You will not harry me any longer."]

The Mandalorian was quick to pounce on the man. Extremely quick, the warrior's jetpack screaming out as he swung. His own rocketboots crackled to life as well, as he flew backwards in response to the Mandalorian's advance, however he retreated purposely slower than the other's approach. The swing of the poleaxe was met with a swing of the forcepike, another burst of sparks launching out from the clash. However, he would quickly grasp the Mandalorian from his arm, as he would turn around mid-air. He had retreated backwards towards one of the recently collapsed buildings, and the purpose for such was about to become evident.

Taking advantage of his leverage on the Mandalorian and the momentum both of them had, a grunt of exertion led to the Mandalorian being FLUNG straight into a concrete wall. While he had hoped that the warrior would simply break his neck on the impact, being sent into (possibly through) a concrete wall was unlikely to feel good regardless.

He continued using his rocketboots, quickly closing in on where the Mandalorian had ended up. He would take the forcepike in both of his hands, launching himself up higher into the air as he held the forcepike over his head. Before, quickly descending down on the warrior, swinging the tip of the forcepike down. It cut through any of the concrete it happened to hit, and he was intent on doing the same to the Mandalorian's neck.

 

[Jax Thio]

Location: Jax's X-Wing, Orbit of Ryloth
Equipment: X-Wing Jumpsuit, Jax's Prosthetic Arm, Jax's Third Lightsaber, Marriage Ring to Jairdain
Tag: Livia Cadera

<Hey Jax!> BB-12 beeped while Jax and the N-1 Starfighters began to engage the fighters. <You know I'm missing my show here! I wanted to watch the Scratching Monkey! I was getting to the best part>

"I REALLY hate to spoil the show BB," Jax said. "But the episode is the exact same like the LAST 20,000 EPISODES! It's just a fracking Monkey scratching himself!"

<It's deeper than that Jax!> BB whirred. <You just don't get it because you're not smart!>

"I'm pretty sure Jayna Ismet-Thio is recording it back home. Don't you panic ya bucket of bolts!" Jax gritted his teeth. "Why the hell am I even arguing with you with this we're about to attack here!"

Jax's radar was popping off as he saw a barrage of missiles heading at he and his squadron's direction but there was no sign on the targets. "Hey BB," Jax said. "My scope is negative I don't see anything!"

He didn't see anything, but sure as hell sensed something. Whoever fired the missiles weren't too far. "All ships spread out!" Jax announced yet a couple of missiles smashed into 5 of the N-1 Starfighters. Jax could hear the pilot's screams followed by the tremors from the Force that came with it. <We got the nuclear option!> BB beeped. <Tell me when to use it!>

"I'll rely on the Force for this one," Jax said closing his eyes. "But I'll keep that as an option."

Jax allowed the Force to guide his X-Wing until he narrowed it down onto what appeared to space. "Firing," Jax unleashed some blaster cannons what appeared to a Starfighter. "Let's see who's attacking us!" Jax muttered under his breath.

 

[Yuri Maji]

RYLOTH | LESSU
ALLIES: COV | Vara Rasha | Carduul Akahl | Fenn Stag | Darion of Myrkr | Sahan Dragr | Rohrkell Vætir
ENEMIES: TWI’LEKS
ENGAGING: Open
GEAR: In bio

CHARLIE DON’T SURF​

The Hound was stunned by the destruction. Too many thoughts swirling in his mind, too many dots connecting at once for him to comprehend. All while nothing short of a small apocalypse raged around them all. His maw hung open behind his visor, as much as his helmet could afford.

”Yuri? Yuri.”​

Nothing registered for what felt like an eternity. Eventually a jab into his ribs brought him back to reality. His visor found Vara’s as she urged them to keep moving. With one last glance and attempt at recalling Baby, he gave a confirming nod and followed beside Vara to the edge of the rooftop.

Before he could express his concerns, she beat him to it. A speeder was pointed out, helping the Hound to focus on the objective. With another nod, he rocketed into the air while Vara took the low approach. He waited for her to get in place and dropped onto the gunner in the back of the speeder. One arm wrapped around his neck and the other fired two bolts into his back. The corpse was cast aside as Yuri took custody of the repeater mounted on the back.

< :: All units, this is Maji. Be advised, a speeder has been commandeered. We will meet at the spaceport. Any units en route, we can pick you up. :: > He finally spoke again, his voice firm over the comms in his attempt to reach their battle brothers.

”Punch it!” He barked at Vara, swivelling the repeater around to fire at the encroaching militia. Overhead, Baby kept flying around the city. Yuri could make out a faint glow on the Basilisk’s weapons, but more concerning was the scorch marks and sparks littered over his droid’s superstructure. Rockets and cannon fire harassed the droid, only to be blown apart once the beast set down again to tear apart another city block.

People ran in fear and troopers abandoned their previously advantageous positions. Whatever desire there was to attack the two mutts were scrapped in the attempts to get away. Another missile slammed into the side of the Basilisk, forcing a mechanical groan from the beast. But the firing didn’t stop. Baby’s ion engines sputtered to life, lifting the droid in the air once more for another salvo of missiles and torpedoes.

:: Baby! Stand down and fall back, dammit! :: He shouted over his comms. For a few long seconds there was no response, but finally his comms crackled to life again.

:: Prrrrr... Promise. ::

 

[Darion of Myrkr]

Darion held the landing of the stairwell and shot the first men as they came. They had rushed it. They had expected easy pickings.

They had died with their eyes wide open.

Another wave came.

Then another.

He didn't waste a shot. Still, the charge on his rifle dropped lower. The stairwell was filled with bodies, smoke, and shouting. The building trembled with boots. He turned and ran for the roof.

Blaster bolts snapped past him in the open air. Some ricocheted off his beskar'gam. Few burned through his cape, and the smell of scorched cloth followed him. He didn't slow.

Darion was setting his jetpack to ignite when a shell struck the roof beside him before the pack could fire. There was a white flash and a shockwave that took him hard and threw him out into the open. For a moment, there was no ground and no sky, only noise and the feeling of falling. Free-falling.

Then he came down heavy onto metal. He struck the bed of a moving speeder with a crash that shook his teeth. The speeder sagged under his weight but didn't buckle. He saw Vara at the wheel and Yuri atop a mounted repeater.

"Su'cuy."

Vara Rasha Yuri Maji

 

[Livia Cadera]

​

Location: In space
Objective: engage the republic
Gear: Beskar'gam, Skeleton, shotgun, Ship x4
Tags: Jax Thio Seva Beroya Kalantha Kjartan Hammer-Hand
Duncan Avaron Zavar Kelborn

kissshhh kohhhh

kissshhh kohhhh

Everything was silent for Livia except for the sound of her own breathing and the whirring of her suit. Blackness surrounded her with endless nothingness only broken up be flashes of gunfire and of course the looming republic cruiser.

kissshhh kohhhh

--Engaging enemy fighters Alor Livia--

kissshhh kohhhh

--Good luck, and I'm not you alor--

kissshhh kohhhh

--Pull this off and we will follow you to hell. Out.--

kissshhh kohhhh

The comm went quiet, Livia had mere seconds before she made contact with the cruiser. Exiting her fighters the shadow of their ordnance and their sharp power intense maneuver she was less noticeable that a spent ammo casing, but far more dangerous. Her G-suit tightened inside her armour and she flipped so she was flying towards the cruiser feet first. There were three vod with her, one from each of her fighters. There was her second in command, a heavily armed super commando, and two more light armed tech specialists. But she was the tip of the spear.

kissshhh kohhhh

Four seconds. She fired her main booster hard, held her breath and tensed her whole body as she decelerated hard enough to hurt. She landed gently on the surface and her team joined her immediately after. They were on the outer skin of the command bridge, and all of a sudden the surface of that ship was now "down". She took stock of their tactical situation and gave her second the nod to prepare the breach charge. A piece of shaped explosive the size of a manhole cover. It wouldn't be long before the command crew would be getting the nastiest and final surprise of their lives.

Meanwhile…

Jax Thio would be rewarded with hits detected on his target by his cannons, further revealing the target as the stealth polymer coating was compromised. As a pair of N1s tried to capitalise on this newly revealed target, two of the other hidden scorpions would pounce and try to take advantage themselves. It was a ruthless tactic, the damaged scorpion would fly in an extremely evasive and defensive pattern, making itself a slippery but obvious target, while its allies would treat it almost as bait, the last of the scorpions would attempt to engage the lead fighter directly, hoping to take the biggest prize.

 

[Carduul Akahl]

City Streets | Ryloth
Tags: Vren Rook | Sahan Dragr | Darion of Myrkr | Yuri Maji | Vara Rasha | Kamon Hourn | Rohrkell Vætir | Seva Beroya
Now. : Gavin Restur

There was the usual back-and-forth; his attempts to elicit understanding only being met with threatening quips. The hunter managed to evade his strike, fortunately for his limb. He was just prepared to ready the follow-up of momentum before all that transpired occurred.

When the dust settled however briefly, there was only more grandstanding. The other individual could practically feel the glare from the vantablack Y-visor. “Blind as ever, aruetii.” Came the succinct accusation, as he paced forwards. As time went on, more and more of his kin were moving past and around to freedom. He would have to join them, sooner or later- to not be wrapped up in the blood and glory of it all. The Crusader, compared to his peers, always held a level head when it came to that. When it came to this individual, however, he was only astounded by the sheer audacity they held. It was why he felt the need to silence it in one swift stroke.

Again he was diverted, though it was of no true consequence to him. It just meant they would die slower. The Mandalorian was slammed through the already-crumbling wall, the air briefly forced from his lungs in another audible grunt of exertion as he skidded to a halt in a fragmented hall. The armor, however, did much to keep him as a leader needed to be—undaunted. It didn’t stop the refreshing pain to begin to make itself apparent, bruises that would undoubtedly bloom beneath the armor. As air was brought back to himself, the individual leaping was caught before it had the chance to fully land. The poleaxe was brought up just as he weaved aside, and the metal shrieked in protest as it wasn’t able to fully catch all of it—earning a glancing blow against the armor, sparks flying with it. It wasn’t his first experience with lightning and electricity, yet the insulation of a bodyglove could only do so much against maximum settings. A hiss of strained breath to seethe through grit teeth. There was no reasoning with those like this, or hope to integrate them into the culture at a later time. That was his problem- he wasn’t in the Crusade. It had failed. This wasn’t like last time, where it was a difference in views for the better, or a raid to reclaim what was lost. It was a choice; a choice to live, or to keel over and die in silence. There was only one option left.

With the next twist, he levered the opposite end of the haft across the man’s face to force him off; a leftwards shift in footing placing him against the wall of the ruined structure. Low stanced, the momentum carried to the opposite end by whirling the polearm over his head and whipping the bladed end directly towards their left shoulder.

“We were the ones who came in peace. We were the ones who were attacked first, this time—when all my kin wished to do was mend the past. It is people like you who cause the devastation you see; people who step into battle without a clue of the cause and effect, opting to instead aid whoever cries ‘wolf’ the loudest.” A wrathful undertone to belie the intent of the calm voice, as a relentless assault was launched upon the other. Regardless if they parried or dodge, it was a graceful assault maintained- with each strike flowing from one to the next. The shoulder-slash then had its grip shifted to a low guard held to his side, extending the range for the next wide cleave across their torso. Only to then simply step forwards into a high thrust towards the neck, the last attack leaving him in position to be properly braced.

“Tell me; if your family lashed out from being struck, would you not step in to defend them, and bear them away from harm?” Once that final attack was made, his weapon reeled back as if to prepare a devastating finisher. “Of course you would. That is what you think you are doing now.” At least, until there was a sudden subversion with a rocket-fueled jettison as he dipped low once again—yet, it was not forwards this time. It instead slid around with a slow shriek of stone against a kneeplate and the tip of the polearm, changing from the central line in effort to throw off a potential parry or dodge, and suddenly lashing across their side with a wide swing to the right arm. “So I will do just the same.”

Wheeling about, a full twist of his body would spiral into a roundhouse kick towards their torso, a heavy iron-clad boot to mark the end of it all in hopes of sending them away into whatever debris may be around them.

With that distance made, his weapon would flourish into a resounding pang as it was pounded against the ground before being set into his hands again. The song of beskar would reverberate through the air. “There is honor in that.”

 

[Jax Thio]

Location: Jax's X-Wing, Orbit of Ryloth
Equipment: X-Wing Jumpsuit, Jax's Prosthetic Arm, Jax's Third Lightsaber, Marriage Ring to Jairdain
Tag: Livia Cadera

"I knew it!" Jax exclaimed. "Bastards are using stealth coating to stage ambushes!"

<Hey we could’ve had that tech on the ship!> BB beeped. <If your sorry ass haven’t cheated out on the stealth!>

Jax sneered. “Why they frack do I need a cloaking device?!” He growled. “I can easily bypass ships using low power! Now why don’t you stop crying and gimmie a target!”

The targeting system displayed the nearby starfighter which was dishing out heavy fire to the pair of N-1 fighters engaging. “I’m hit!” The pilot shouted. “Shields are down and I’m losing power!”

“Bravo 6,” Jax said. “I got the target ln my sights!”

The targeting computer narrowed at the enemy fighter eliciting a smirk from Jax. “Full power!” Jax ordered BB and he unleashed a barrage of laser flak towards the enemy starfighter.

 

[Gavin Restur]

Equipment: Dual Blaster Pistols, Forcepike, Cycler Rifle, Rocket Boots, Rebreather + Tubes, Misc.
TAGS: Carduul Akahl
​

His teeth were harshly gritting underneath his mask, brows furrowed as he leapt through the air. Of course, it could never be that easy, as the wide slash unfortunately missed Carduul Akahl 's neck. It did still manage to scratch at his armor, which seemed to do damage to the man under the armor. However, he wasn't able to capitalize any further on the opportunity. The Mandalorian had shoved him away by the face with his poleaxe, which had caused the man to stumble backwards briefly. Flourishing his forcepike briefly, as his energy shield was lifted upwards, blocking the swing at his shoulder from the poleaxe. Not buckling under the impact this time.

["We were the ones who came in peace. We were the ones who were attacked first, this time—when all my kin wished to do was mend the past. It is people like you who cause the devastation you see; people who step into battle without a clue of the cause and effect, opting to instead aid whoever cries 'wolf' the loudest."]

Gavin wasn't able to respond to the other's quips just yet. Not due to a lack of a response outright, but mostly because he's focusing purely on the fight at hand. And also that the Mandalorian didn't exactly give him an opportunity to butt in. A lengthy leap backwards allowed for him to avoid the cleave at his torso, and the forcepike was swung close to himself to deflect the poleaxe's attempt to impale his neck.

["Tell me; if your family lashed out from being struck, would you not step in to defend them, and bear them away from harm? Of course you would. That is what you think you are doing now."]

The crackling from the warrior's jetpack had cause his own eyes to widen slightly. His body language suggested that a frontal attack was incoming, so he readied himself accordingly. Which meant that he was internally surprised at the last-second change of direction. Despite the forcepike whipping around as quickly as it could, it wasn't able to block the poleaxe's blade fully, and a rather nasty cut was left along his arm. Not outright debilitating, but it hurt. A lot.

["So I will do just the same."]

The successful strike from the Mandalorian had caused him to stumble, leaving ample opportunity for the warrior to land his spinning roundhouse kick. With the air briefly knocked out of him, he's sent flying back. Crashing into a pile of rubble that was caused by the pair's fighting.

["There is honor in that."]

A groan was let out, as he took a moment to recollect himself. Gradually pulling himself out of the debris pile he was sent into, patting off the dust that now littered his attire. Crimson was pouring from his arm, which led to his other hand clamping over it briefly. Sharp breaths were taken through gritted teeth, mentally trying to push through the pain the wound caused. He wasn't able to completely stop the bleeding, but pressure was able to slow it enough. Eventually, his gaze slowly returned towards the Mandalorian. Glaring.

"You just don't get it. Or maybe you do, and don't care. I ain't able to tell, no more." Another flourish of the forcepike, as it was readied. "The whole galaxy's afraid of those helmets. For thousands of years, the sight of a Mandalorian meant one thing: war. I should know, our people have fought each other for thousands of years."

A push off the ground sent him leaping towards the Mandalorian, forcepike reeled back. As distance rapidly closed, the tip of the forcepike was jutted towards the exposed neck of the warrior. "No wonder why folk are afraid of you! You said it yourself, you didn't attack first 'this time'!"

Despite the warrior's agility even with his armor, there was bound to be a difference between the two of them, in favor of himself. Similar to before, a flurry of attacks was thrown yet again. He was hardly even looking to strike the Mandalorian, and more just looking to purely overwhelm him. To make him commit on feints, to be on the backfoot. He made it a point to continuously step towards the warrior as attacks were thrown. Not without caution, of course, but plenty to keep the warrior busy. "If you think that one attempt at 'diplomacy' excuses all of the bloodshed of the past, you are a bigger fool than I would've guessed! Just accept the reality-- you have honor, but your honor ain't mean anything, except to yourselves...!"

Once more, similar to earlier, the forcepike is harshly pushed against the poleaxe, binding it in place. There were audible grunts of exertion as he pushed against the poleaxe, sparks flinging off the two weapons. He reeled his left arm, appearing as though he was about to attempt another strike with the energy shield. However, this time, he instead used his arm to push off the Mandalorian. Pulling the forcepike out of the bind with the poleaxe, as he spun around to the back of the warrior. The forcepike was dragged over, striking the shaft against the Mandalorian's jetpack as a large handful of sparks shot out from the strike.

There wasn't much actual damage done to the jetpack due to the fact that the strike wasn't done with the tip, but the energized shaft would cause the jetpack to short-circuit, and malfunction. Turning it on, as the Mandalorian would be launched upwards through debris, and sent flying away into the sky.

He'd stare for a moment, before pressing the button on his wristpad to activate his own rocketboots. Fully intent on chasing the Mandalorian down.

 

[Vara Rasha]

RYLOTH | STREETS OF LESSU
ALLIES: Fellow Vode | Vren Rook | Yuri Maji | Fenn Stag | Kamon Hourn | Sahan Dragr | Rohrkell Vætir | Darion of Myrkr
ENEMIES: Tailheads | THR | Anyone Who Stands Before Me
ENGAGING: N/A | [OPEN]
GEAR: In Bio

Goodbye Raven​

Dread.

Vara read it clearly from her face as she stalked closer. She brought the muzzle of her rifle to bear at the militiawoman’s cranium. A whistle poured from the Harpy’s helmet vocabulator, two steps from the driver behind the wheel. The militiawoman’s head snapped to look. A red muzzle flash filled her vision and darkness claimed her.

The blaster rifle in Vara’s hands barked once.

Violence came instant. One moment the militiawoman’s pretty face was whole. In the next, the contents of her skull splattered around. Blood and grey matter dribbled down the windshield. Her grasp of the steering wheel went along with the side of her skull. The body slumped to its right on the seat.

In the same breath the Harpy dispatched her, a pair of shots came from the flatbed. A muffled thud followed as Yuri threw the corpse off the vehicle.

The Harpy was already moving. They hadn’t the time to stop and admire the pretty mess.

Her grip shifted from the handguard. She reached for the handle and swung open the car door. Leaning inside, she grasped the expired militiawoman by the collar of her fatigues, and threw her out. With a meaty thud she landed on her back. Blood slowly began to pool, staining the dry earth of the street.

The Foundling hopped inside.

< :: All units, this is Maji. Be advised, a speeder has been commandeered. We will meet at the spaceport. Any units en route, we can pick you up. :: > He finally spoke again, his voice firm over the comms in his attempt to reach their battle brothers.

She swung the door shut after her. She brought the rifle over the dashboard, and drove the barrel into the windshield, hard. Shards of glass blew outwards as she cleared her sight lines. The rifle clattered against her breastplate as she let it hang from its sling and reached for the gear stick. Vara slammed it into first and dumped the clutch.

”Punch it!” He barked at Vara, swivelling the repeater around to fire at the encroaching militia.

Her maw split to a wide grin underneath the faceplate. She was in her element. <”Hold on tight, pretty boy! We goin’ for a spin!”> The landspeeder shot forth, repulsors whining from the sharp acceleration. The E-Web at the back tore the air, dispatching the encroaching militias with ease.

She wrenched the wheel in the same breath, and the vehicle snapped back on the road. Another turn, and they rounded a corner. She jammed it into second as the engine howled. <”Hey! My HUD’s busted! Y’gotta guide me here!”> The girl barked, as she sharply turned the wheel to the left, plunging into another street.

Her eyes widened. <”Footmobiles! At our twelve!”> A sharp cackle tore from her throat. They had caught them by surprise! The E-Web’s howl soon drowned her out. Pedal to the metal, with no space to swerve around them, the Harpy did the only sensible thing as Yuri cut them down like chaff.

She ploughed through.

The bumper struck hard against a militiaman. His eyes went wide, mouth opening in a silent scream before the bumper launched him over the hood. Not far behind him was a pair. A heavy weapons team. They made for cover against the incoming onslaught, but the Harpy caught them. All that remained of the pair were twin smears of blood across the hood as she tore through them.

:: Baby! Stand down and fall back, dammit! :: He shouted over his comms.

The third gear came with a snarl. <”Is he gonna be alright!”> concern audible in her undertone, but she slowed not. With another firm wrench of the wheel, they parted completely from the annihilation they left behind them. Buildings, trees and lamp posts turned to a blur. Unannounced, a rumble from above rolled through the frame of the vehicle. The loud crash whipped her eyes from the road and onto the rearview mirror.

Vara relaxed at the sight of the T-visor.

"Su'cuy."

Darion’s entrance drew a sharp cackle from her. <”Su’cuy! Hold onto your breakfast!”> The Harpy threw it into fourth. The howl of the engine tore through the streets. Her knuckles turned ivory white under her hide. Her locs flowed wildly with the wind at her bristled mane.

Her eyes caught it. The distinct and large silhouette of the spaceport grew larger with every turn around the corner into another street. It quickly became the center of the cauldron of battle as more and more brothers and sisters arrived. <”Let’s take what we’re owed!”> Her smile read clearly in her tone. Vivacious. And she never eased off the throttle.

Nothing else in the galaxy ever hit her like war.

 

[Yuri Maji]

RYLOTH | LESSU
ALLIES: COV | Vara Rasha | Carduul Akahl | Fenn Stag | Darion of Myrkr | Sahan Dragr | Rohrkell Vætir
ENEMIES: TWI’LEKS
ENGAGING: Open
GEAR: In bio

CHARLIE DON’T SURF​

In a matter of moments, the two mutts were blasting down the road toward the spaceport. Vara mentioned that her HUD was down and Yuri’s response came in quick with a kick to the rear window for his helmet to be dropped into her lap. In the same action, Yuri yanked her helmet off and slid it onto his own head. It was an incredibly uncomfortable fit, but as long as it could stop a blaster bolt he wouldn’t complain.

Just in time, too, as a group of troopers appeared in their path ahead. Yuri swivelled the repeater around and opened fire on as many of them as he could, though one nearly smashed him off the back of the speeder as the body tumbled overhead. All of the carnage paled in the wake of his worry for his Basilisk. Baby wasn’t calming down or responding to any attempts at getting him to stand down.

<”Is he gonna be alright!”>

”I don’t know! He’s… I don’t know.” He called out. Another body soon crashed into the speeder, only this time it was one of their bodies. Darion looked worse for wear from what Yuri could see. ”Get in here!” He barked, yanking the man to safety in the back of the speeder. ”Keep your head down.” He ordered, swinging the repeater over Darion’s head to let loose with another volley of blaster fire.

They made good ground in their rush. The spaceport laid ahead of them, but it didn’t seem as if everyone was there yet. Once they halted, Yuri claimed his helmet back and turned to look at his droid perched atop another ruined building. The Basilisk’s guns glowed red and his hull was littered with holes and scorches… he was looking bad.

:: Baby… find our brothers. Get them to the spaceport! :: He finally ordered. A few tense seconds crept by until his comms sparked to life.

:: Affirmative. :: He let out a long sigh and turned his attention back to the group.

Baby’s onslaught would momentarily halt as he began to scour the ruins for any friendly IFF signatures. The first was Carduul Akahl and his fight with an unknown assailant. A stream or particle bolts would tear a trench through the ground close to the fighters to halt them. Baby touched down close to the fighters with his guns at the ready. :: Carduul, board now. :: The droid’s mechanical, binary growls echoed through the momentary silence.

Like with Carduul, Baby would fly from one isolated battle-brother to the next to pick them up and deposit them by the spaceport. Rohrkell Vætir and Sahan Dragr also didn’t have a choice in their rescue. Enormous claws would prevail where orders did not.

While Baby tried to gather the stragglers, the rest of the group could take custody of a freighter. Loaded with all manner of materials and valuable ores, at least the Mando’ade could get some form of a victory with the botched operation.

 

[Darion of Myrkr]

Darion did as Yuri told him. He went low beneath the heavy repeater while it hammered over his head. The gun shook in the mount and kicked like a scared Tauntaun. Each burst made the barrel climb and shudder before the stabilizers dragged it back down. It was an ugly sound, but one Darion's ears welcomed.

He lay flat and watched Vara drive. She took them through the fire without slowing. The speeder jolted and swerved, skimming wreckage and bodies, slipping past burning hulls. It was like watching a dog drive your speeder perfectly. It was driving perfectly, but it was still a dog.

A red light blinked at the edge of his visor. He shifted his eyes to it. The jetpack was gone. The shell that struck the roof had cracked it open. There would be no flying out.

He saw a Republic light cruiser resting on its struts. Small for a true cruiser and small enough for one man to lift if off. Similar to those Gozantis the Imperials made.

"Let's not go back empty-handed," he said. He checked the charge on his rifle and started toward the cruiser. "I'm going for that light cruiser."

He turned his helmet toward Vara as he hurried toward the cruiser. "Try not to kill yourself piloting one of those."

Vara Rasha Yuri Maji

 

[Carduul Akahl]

City Streets | Ryloth
Tags: Vren Rook | Sahan Dragr | Darion of Myrkr | Yuri Maji | Vara Rasha | Kamon Hourn | Rohrkell Vætir | Seva Beroya
Now. : Gavin Restur

The once-Rallymaster’s hits struck as true as his words should have, yet still the bold adversary remained defiant against both accounts. His visor levelled upon the glaring figure from across, the helmet cocking to the side in inquisitive nature upon the words spewed towards himself.

“As if anyone is a saint in any galaxy.” Came his curt retort, shot back with a touch of venom to his voice. “If I know the people you claim to speak of, I guarantee they are feared and reviled by another. Go back far enough, and you would see the heights of our cultures were both brought low by the same figure.” History, after all, had always been his forte. Ages of training and study made all sorts of fighting styles recognizable to him—including that of the bounty hunter’s. Though, he could note he was certainly not Echani by birth.

“This is but one of many attempts. Even when my kin devote their all to a cause they belief to be just and pure, they crumble and are cast aside. Even when they are the shield of the galaxy, crushed underfoot, none come to their aid without chains and lies. History will repeat eternal, and thus I am here at the behest of those who would seek solace from such a fate.”

The Mandalorian was caught off-guard by the usage of his already injured arm. A mistake on his part; he must have grown far too complacent over the time he had been absent from battle. Suddenly, he was jettisoned away—lacking the usual grace of his pinpointed and purposeful manuevers as he soared through a hole of the ruined building to the upper floor. It only took a moment to right himself mid-flight, narrowly avoiding crashing into a pillar of the hall. Instead, he tumbled to the ground with a shriek of metal scraping against duracrete, and the sputter of a jetpack rendered risky to use. Yet still, as he got to a knee, he could already see the mercenary eyeing up at him, intent on pursuit. “...If you were told to lay down and die, would you do so? That is all your ilk offer us- be they Jedi, Sith, or those such as yourselves. We refuse that fate. We will continue to refuse that fate until the last star fades from existence. So the only question left is whether you wish to join the cycle. Yet, you’ve already made your answer.”

He would have been eager to oblige the other’s wish to continue their fight, gaze narrowing from behind the helmet as his polearm was taken up again- but the roar of blaster fire ripped through what remained of the building, and the sight of a Basilisk was one gladly met. It even seemed familiar, though he couldn’t quite place who it belonged to. It all snapped him out of the fervor for battle long-since desired, a soft huff of breath; “...Of course. Thank you.” He relented, hopping upon the droid with one swift motion. With a final gaze cast to the mercenary, “Fare thee well. I hope the same fate you wish for us reaches you. Only then will you understand.” Were the parting words, just as Maji’s trusted companion left to soar off for the rest.

The fact was he was being merciful today. Had it been the days of the crusade, the man could have simply ordered hell to break loose, and it would be done. There was no room for ‘honor’ in such a place, and especially not for him. Yet that was not the story being told here on this day, nor was it his to tell.

Even if the galaxy would not see it, he would watch as his kin forged their path anew. Gods willing, it will not result as he believes. Those would be the thoughts he was left with in the wake of this mess, and quietly he would ruminate upon them as they left on that freighter.

 

[Yuri Maji]

RYLOTH | LESSU
ALLIES: COV | Vara Rasha | Carduul Akahl | Fenn Stag | Darion of Myrkr | Sahan Dragr | Rohrkell Vætir
ENEMIES: TWI’LEKS
ENGAGING: Open
GEAR: In bio

CHARLIE DON’T SURF​

While Yuri entrusted Baby to gather up what remained of their people, the Hound ushered Vara toward a nearby freighter. Darion was already moving to get it airborne and nobody wanted to get left behind with their bloodthirsty hosts.

Once they were all onboard one of the freighters, Yuri halted by the boarding ramp to hail his droid again. Multiple attempts were denied, though Yuri couldn’t figure out if it was Baby doing it or the amount of damage the Basilisk sustained. Eventually contact was established, but the droid’s drones and chirps held nothing but bad news.

:: Re-trtrtrtrtr-retreat. Structural int-rrrrrrrrr-egrity compromised. :: The droid managed to communicate. A snarl ripped from Yuri’s maw as he watched the droid from afar. He knew what the droid was suggesting and he refused to entertain it. Even as the freighter’s engines came to life and lifted the ship from the ground, Yuri tried repeatedly to recall his droid to no avail.

The droid’s engines cut out and sent it tumbling to the ground. A roar of defiant fury echoed through the carnage as some converged while others tried to run away. His guns were overheated, magazines empty. The cockpit was blown open and chunks were missing from the fuselage.

:: Primary direc-trrrrrrrrrr-tive completed. Promise kept. :: The droid stood up again, his last weapon prepared. But he couldn’t use it, not until the freighters cleared from the spaceport.

Not until everyone was a safe distance away.

Yuri could only watch as the beast clawed and swiped at the converging enemy. The moment everyone cleared the area, the words Yuri refused to accept came through.

:: Family safe. Goodbye. ::

Barely a second later, all sound was siphoned from the area, an eerie stillness that lasted a few seconds, before a bright blue light unleashed a powerful shockwave to tear through a large chunk of the city.

Yuri stood frozen in place, eventually forcing himself to retreat into the ship and close it up.

/Exit thread

 

[Vara Rasha]

RYLOTH | STREETS OF LESSU
ALLIES: Fellow Vode | Vren Rook | Yuri Maji | Fenn Stag | Kamon Hourn | Sahan Dragr | Rohrkell Vætir | Darion of Myrkr
ENEMIES: Tailheads | THR | Anyone Who Stands Before Me
ENGAGING: CLOSED
GEAR: In Bio

It's Snowing Like It's the End of the World​

The howl of the engine cut through the din of battle.

A sharp yank of the wheel to the left, Vara slammed the brakes in the same breath. The vehicle came to a skidding halt before the entrance to the spaceport at a masterful drift. The motor hummed idly. Her glare snapped towards whence they came. She drew a hand off the steering wheel. Digits wrapped around the pistol grip of her rifle. Her core tightened at an anticipation for blaster bolts to greet them in their arrival.

Their gracious hosts were absent this time.

Quite a shame.

A breath left her. In their brief moment of respite, she reached for the helmet over her head. Built for proportions not of her own, the discomfort began to bite at her face. Her digits caught the rim of the helmet. It slid off with a firm push. With a shake of her head, she sent her locks and mane to settle back.

She leaned back and passed Yuri his helmet, reclaiming her own in the same moment.

The cracked visor settled before her eyes once more. Her agreement to Darion’s voiced out notion came at a nod. <”Right, let’s move,”> the door swung open and she hopped out, rifle shouldered. The muzzlebrake shadowed her glare. The Foundling stalked to the entrance. She pressed her shoulder against the wall just short of the doorway, and peeked inside.

Her head dipped for a nod.

Clear.

She swung inside as the first in the stack. Rifle brought to bear from one corner to the other as the others moved in with her. The foundling was already moving. The chatter of blaster fire and explosions cut through the din of their shared footfalls.

They were coming, but they were too late to stop them now.

Their survival lay dead ahead, and so was the promise of escape.

Several ships lined the spaceport, engines dormant and their crews nowhere to be seen. Refueling hoses snaked towards some. Pumps churned, filling tanks even as battle raged around them. Her glare shot from one spaceworthy frame to the other. It seemed Darion had already trained his sights on a prize.

"Let's not go back empty-handed," he said. He checked the charge on his rifle and started toward the cruiser. "I'm going for that light cruiser."

He turned his helmet toward Vara as he hurried toward the cruiser. "Try not to kill yourself piloting one of those."

His words drew a chuckle out of her. He already moved, making for the Gozanti class. <”Hun’ed creds to whoever breaks atmosphere first,”> Vara clapped back with an audible grin as her glare settled on a freighter nearby.

That’ll do.

And it seemed her man agreed with her unspoken sentiment. Ushered towards the ship, the woman followed him aboard. Hurried footfalls scraped against the ramp. With haste, she cut to the cockpit to get them underway. Her rifle hung from the sling across her breastplate, the pilot’s chair softly groaned in protest as she sat. She reached forward for the dashboard and began the takeoff sequence.

Status lights burned green across the board.

Soon, a shudder rolled through the ship’s frame as fire breathed through the thrusters. Low and rough whines of the engines rose to a howl. But the landing struts were yet to sweep off the ground. One ticket out for many of their kin, the mutts waited for as long as they dared.

In the same breath, all hells broke loose outside.

She bore witness to it all through the viewport.

The militiamen tested their defenses at first. A probing fireteam became squads once they secured a breach, and punched through. Abandoned defenses quickly flooded by the militia and turned to bear towards the Mandalorians. Their withdrawal hastened, the militiamen were greeted in kind as the Mandalorians fired and maneuvered towards safety.

More and more of her kin joined them at the freighter.

Then…

The very ground trembled as the lone wardroid met the ground at a forced descent. A grimace crossed her maw at the impact. Rage stirred at her chest as she watched blaster bolts find purchase with its battered warplates.

Through the chaos, she could hear him. Through snarls and growls Yuri barked orders to the droid. All in vain. The girl lingered as long as she could, but they were running out of time. The tailheads were closing in from all sides.

They were at the cusp of cutting them off.

<”Yuri we have to go!”> Her voice rang sharp over the commlink as the last of their kin stomped up the ramp into safety. Her grasp closed around the stick, and she pulled. The freighter began its ascent. The landing struts withdrew back into the frame at the press of a button. Her gaze snapped to the right at a Mandalorian sat at the co-pilot’s seat. <”Take over!”>

She didn’t have to say it twice.

He gave her a curt nod, and took over. Vara shot up in the same breath, and made for the ramp with haste.

Brows knit under the faceplate, the woman took in the sight before her as she skidded to a halt next to her man. Her hand found a subconscious grasp around her rifle’s pistol grip as her glare settled on the spaceport. The structure rapidly shrunk as they made for the vacuum.

Her maw parted, yet nothing came. The woman’s eyes traced the deluge of blaster fire to their target, and saw Baby. Battered, but unbroken. The unavoidable fate loomed over them, right around the corner.

There wasn’t a thing they could do to prevent it now.

And then, the inevitable took its course.

Everything stilled, as if the galaxy held its breath. Then, an azure flash flooded her vision. An ear splitting boom tore through the air. A gasp spilled from her lips. The flash swallowed and consumed everything in its path.

The annihilation brought a looming silence over them both as the roar began to fade.

Words failed her. There was nothing to say. Nothing to fix.

Only one thing remained.

Slowly, she reached out for him. Her hand found his shoulder. Her grip tightened. Not in warning, not in command. Anchoring. Something softened behind the cracked visor. The woman searched for his eyes as a small, fragile sound escaped her, barely more than a breath.

Her digits tightened once more, and stilled.

She did not let go.

-=Exit Thread=-

 

[Gavin Restur]

Equipment: Dual Blaster Pistols, Forcepike, Cycler Rifle, Rocket Boots, Rebreather + Tubes, Misc.
TAGS: Carduul Akahl
​

He watched as the Mandalorian soared through the hole on the upper floor, mostly grateful that his plan actually worked. He hovered his finger over his wristpad, fully intending to follow the man. Though, he halted as the warrior spoke down towards him.

["...If you were told to lay down and die, would you do so? That is all your ilk offer us- be they Jedi, Sith, or those such as yourselves. We refuse that fate. We will continue to refuse that fate until the last star fades from existence. So the only question left is whether you wish to join the cycle. Yet, you've already made your answer."]

Squinting, as he stared for a few moments. "The Sith have brought nothing but misery, and the Jedi have a history of being in the wrong. But in the end, the consequences always catch up. While I hope we both can agree that the Sith are the worst out of everyone, you said it yourself: ain't nobody's a saint. But karma's a tricky thing, ain't it?"

As he was about to blast up towards the man to continue their skirmish, the roaring of engines closing in had quickly caught his attention. And the booms of blaster fire, even faster. There was a dive of himself behind concrete for cover, huddling behind a broken wall and covering his head with his hands. After the blaster fire had stopped, he slowly raised himself back to a stand. Leaning to stare towards the Mandalorian, who just so happened to glance back at that same moment.

["Fare thee well. I hope the same fate you wish for us reaches you. Only then will you understand."]

To which, the shuttle began departing. There was a hastened collapse and holster of his forcepike, as he reached into his satchel and procured a small tracker. He loaded it into the launcher on his wristpad, and aimed his arm towards the shuttle, having it clearly in his sights. This would let him track where they would go to, and if luck would have it, perhaps even a Republic response could be sent directly towards their gathering place.

However, for some reason or another...he hesitated. Despite the fighting that just occurred, and the..."healthy" exchange of words that happened between the two of them, he couldn't shake the feeling that the Mandalorian was showing some sense of mercy. Maybe he could've had the shuttle bomb the destroyed building, or something like that.

Regardless, he slowly lowered his arm as the shuttle got out of distance. If his speculation was correct, then he would show his own mercy. While he was critical of the Mandalorian meaning of "honor", he knows when to show his own.

He took a moment to glance around the battlefield. Most of the remaining Mandalorian force had already evacuated, so the fighting had largely come to a halt. All that was left was the dead, on both sides. Not to mention the bleeding wound that was on his arm. He let out a sigh, letting his coat blow in the wind that was made by the shuttle as he leaned forwards, resting his arms on a section of destroyed wall.

What a mess. And a waste.