Junction Iron Remembers || COV/SO Junction of Resource Hex & F'Tral

[Vren Rook]

The Storyfire is lit.

Iron remembers and will now forge its legend.

The Sith Order's grip on the Seswenna sector has become a chokehold. The foundries that once fueled the prosperity of the Outer Rim now churn out engines of war for the Dark Side, while the people of Seswenna toil under the shadow of the Sith Imperial government.

But the Iron Covenant does not see victims, they see potential. The Mandalorians of Kestri launch a multi-pronged raid on Seswenna after some of the members did some recon on the planet.

The Iron Covenant's objective is multi-fold: to liberate the industrial labour in order to bolster Mandalorian ranks, seize the high-grade raw materials required for the construction of the Mythos Fleet, and extract data to cripple Sith operations and advance the Iron Covenant's push on Sith space.

Suggested for Duels and Warposting​

Iron Covenant Goal: Liberate the workers and Sabotage Sith Production.

The Sith have terrorised the manufacturing district, forcing the industrial labour to work under horrible conditions. Iron Covenant ground forces must infiltrate the district, disable the ray-shielded perimeters, and ship the people off-world. Damage and destruction to the Seswennan factories is deliberately encouraged. Nothing is sacred. Liberate the oppressed and cripple the Sith’s manufacturing sector in one blow.

Sith Order Goal: Establish Sith and Military superiority and squelch the Mandalorian bug.

The Mandalorian attack had come from a direction not easily suspected and they clearly don't belong to the Mandalorian Empire, but we are not caught with our pants down either. Balk these Mandalorian ground forces within the district and show them the might of the Sith once more. Keep the workers where they are and make sure our security measures remain in place.

Suggested for Fleeters and Dogfighters​

Iron Covenant Goal: Break the Blockade and Secure the Extraction Corridor.

The Sith Order maintains a planetary fleet and they have orbit. Our early ships managed to drop our people and their gear in but they, the resources and the workers need to get back out. The Mythos fleet, led by the earlier vessels, must punch a hole in the Sith formation and hold the corridor to ensure extraction and air support. Show them the Mandalorian fire.

Sith Order Goal: Maintain orbital superiority with overwhelming firepower.

The Mandalorians may have caught the fleet unawares with their surprise attack, but our ships recovered very quickly - they had barely managed . Maintain our blockade - ensure those ground forces don't get back out - and show this Mandalorian fleet who has the true naval superiority. They have been crippled before by our kind - remind them what happens when you challenge the Sith might.

Suggested for Duels and Infiltrators/Saboteurs​

Iron Covenant Goal: Data Extraction and Assassination.

While the battle rages in the streets and the stars, small elite teams must scale the Governor's Spire. The Sith hold encrypted star charts and resource caches that are vital to the Mythos Fleet expedition. Extract any data that can be used to further the Mythos Fleet’s crusade against the Sith. Take out any officials on the way - the only good Dar'jetti is a dead one.


Sith Order Goal: Intercept the infiltrating Mandalorians and destroy them.

Mandalorians are breaching the Governor's Spire - this can be unfortunate if they are successful. This will be a Sith Lord's time to shine. Show these bucketheads that there's no hope in challenging the might of the Sith. Prevent them from reaching any data or target by erasing them from the Galaxy. Bring the Dark Side down on them in spades. ​

 

[Darion of Myrkr]

TAG: Lirka Ka
Equipment: Modern-equivalent DC-15A Blaster Rifle; Greatbeskad; Old Crusader Beskar’gam; Wrist Launchers; Jetpack
Obj. I

The street lay quiet beside the low factory building, and at first there was only a dull muttering from within: shouts carried through walls and the flat crack of blaster fire and the muffled thump of grenades. It came and went, then gathered again, swelling like something held too long under strain, until the air itself had to give way.

Then the factory burst open and flame rose in a great column, and the shock of it ran down the street, breaking glass and throwing metal and dust out into the open and the noise of it, the shouting, the firing, the heavy thuds of bodies striking ground, spilled out all at once.

From the smoke and fire the Mandalorians came quickly, fanning out for new plunder. Darion of Myrkr came out of the flames last. He walked through the fire as others followed close at his sides. They were young, as he was young, but his recent exploits had placed their command in his hands.

His kin had come for what could be taken. Metal and fuel and laborers, it was all good for the Covenant. But Darion did not think on these things. They held no weight with him.

He wanted the fight itself.

He wanted a Sith.

"Onto the next," he said, disinterested.

 

[Seva Beroya]

VORNSKR
ORBIT | SESWENNA
ALLIES: Romul Saxon | Kjartan Hammer-Hand | Signy Bralor | COV
ENEMIES: SO
ENGAGING: Seela Leini
GEAR: In bio

Spoiler: Fleet

-Oya'kar - Flagship (100%/100%)

-4x Gratiir-Cruisers
--Anarchy - 100%/100%
--Wolf - 100%/100%
--Cyclone - 100%/100%
--Twilight - 100%/100%


-6x Aranar-Frigates
--Leviathan - 100%/100%
--Nexus- 100%/100%
--Vigilant - 100%/100%
--Manticore - 100%/100%
--Reaver - 100%/100%
--Slayer - 100%/100%


-6x Ram'or-Corvettes
--Venom - 100%/100%
--Kraken- 100%/100%
--Trident - 100%/100%
--Assassin - 100%/100%
--Invictus - 100%/100%
--Falcon - 100%/100%

7EMPEST​

"Give them the old one-two! We need to get more ships down there!"

"Yes, Alor." said Varon Awaud, her second-in-command on the bridge. His hands flew over the controls before he relayed the command to the gun-crews.

Moments later, the Oya'kar's Ions let loose on the blockade that had pulled rank, shortly followed by the Railguns to deal the punch to the enemy hulls, coupled with the usual turbolaser fire.

"Have Jet ready his squadron of Basilisks - I want them to deploy at a moment's notice." Seva started, turning to face Varon. " Also keep two of our cruisers back while sending the other two to help break that blockade with the corvettes. Arrange with our frigates to form defensive shield on the Heavy Line. We'll need them."
He nodded at her before relaying commands, keeping the Anarchy and the Wolf behind while the other two accompanied the speedy corvettes on assaulting the blockade from various angles.

The Mirialan looked at the blockade again, her mind racing through scenarios. This is merely the planetary defence fleet, yet it remained formidable, as was expected with the Sith. She suspected that she would have to loose the energy weapons sooner or later to really move them to get their people back out and before their shields really started taking a beating.

In the Oya'kar's hangar, Jet Beroya was bustling to get the Basilisks deployed from their folded positions while his squadron of riders started gathering around him.

"We moving soon, Jet?" asked Freya Beroya, her helmet propped under her arm.
"Yeah, just got the orders to get ready. Alor wants us to deploy on her order. So go over your beasts' systems a final time and remain in the cockpits." Jet replied turning toward her and the rest of the group.
"Hell yeah! Aman has been wanting to get his claws on an enemy starfighter for a while now!" rejoiced David Awaud before darting off toward his basilisk who stood ready for him.

Before long, all eight of them were in their basilisks and awaiting their Alor's orders.​

 

[Lirka Ka]

Darion of Myrkr would find no lack of Sith behind the Blackwall.

A great many Sith. In myriad forms - black-robed acolytes of brawling warriors and crackling sorcerers. But the thing about Sith... some of them took on stranger forms. And who was chief among the freaks if not Lirka Ka? The force-dead abomination who hulked around in her whirring powersuit, scraping and clawing her way to the Dark Council upon a pile of broken bodies.

And certainly, the Councilor had a quaint habit of being in the right place at the right time. As alarms began to blare around the factory district, information already began to move abuzz about ones who would be so bold as to breach the Wall. When the reports reached her ears, she couldn't hold back a sadistic smile beneath that marred helm of hers.

For a time she had almost been worried that the gold grudges between Sith and Mandalorian had been settled. It had a great many years since she had properly spilt Mandalorian blood - for in moments of cruel lucidity, she looked fondly upon those days on Mandalore where by the beckon of the conqueror Darth Carnifex she was allowed to rip their people apart with an artist's careful touch.

And what was a Sith if not nostalgic?

She hurried herself to the frontline with little time to waste, the whirring sirens of security ships flying to meet the roaring rancor of the first factory explosion: certainly Lirka Ka would not weep for the souls lost, but the reduction in productivity was a sorry thing for certain...perhaps she'd grab a few of the interlopers after the fact and make them repay their debt to the Empire.

As one of the security craft careened overhead, Lirka leapt her way into the fray - a metal missile plummeting down to the ground that landed with a thunderous boom. Dust rising in her wake, and the gleaming glow of the blade's Electro-Plasma Filament crackling through the haze.

With the bellow of a mechanical beast looking for a challenge, her distorted voice echoed through the battlefield. She felt she understood the Mandalorian rats well enough - any of them worth her time loved a good challenge.

"COME HERE, RATS!"

Oh yes. It was good to get back to form.

​

​

 

[Romul Saxon]

F L A M E W A R D
Seswenna, Lower Atmosphere
​

Allies: Seva Beroya | Kjartan Hammer-Hand | Signy Bralor | Iron Covenant
Enemies: Sith Order (+OPEN)

Romul preferred to feel when his hammer struck home, to feel his foes' bones crumple and crack, their soft tissue rending against his might. Though sterile may be combat from a starship, he could not deny the overwhelming firepower that was afforded him. Their strike against Seswenna was running on a timer; Romul was not naive enough to think that this strike against the Sith would not go unanswered. The Mythos Fleet had elected not to spare one of their precious suppressive cruisers to black out the system's defenses. They wanted the Sith to know they were here. They wanted the Sith to know their black wall was penetrable.

They wanted the Sith to fear.

Night and cloud hid Romul's fleet, which had descended far, far down below into the lower atmosphere of Seswenna. A storm was rolling in lazily towards the planet's industrial production center. Only faint lights through the clouds -- the various systems of the ships themselves, as well as the pulsing blue flames of the drive engines -- gave away their position. But Romul did not move quite yet. He wanted to observe how the Sith would react. His view of the industrial center below, obscured by cloud, he instead resorted to a tactical display aboard the bridge. The blue holograph lit the interior, washing out all other colors. Small dots indicated where Mandalorian forces had already struck, but so far, it was an insignificant portion of the city, yet enough to send out a clear message.

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

• Ha'rangir-class Star Destroyer
  • Gra'tua Dral [Shields 100% | Hull 100% | Structure 100%] - Flagship
• x3 Gratirr-class Heavy Cruisers
  • Tal'galar [[Shields 100% | Hull 100% | Structure 100%]
  • Stri'liir [[Shields 100% | Hull 100% | Structure 100%]
  • Sur'ar [[Shields 100% | Hull 100% | Structure 100%]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The body bounced once off the ferrocrete, body contorted mid-impact. Even before it had time to crest and fall back again, it was drawn towards and crashed against the nearest smooth, featureless wall. Flipping end over end, the body was drawn up the wall as if on the end of a string, disappearing into an open window feet-first. It crashed down onto the grated floor, dragged unceremoniously for a meter before finally released. Inside, the Mandalorian warrior was battered and bruised, yet still drawing ragged breaths.

Above him loomed the Skanah Aru'e, the Most Hated Enemy. His towering form was encapsulated by heinous armor, each segment radiating with the abject power of the Dark Side of the Force. Flowing from His shoulders was a long and wide cloak of interlocking silver scales, each one wrought in the shape of a diamond. Upon each scale was a fragment of a clan insignia, no two truly alike. When it moved, the whole surface rippled incandescently.

Reaching down, the Skanah Aru'e wrapped His taloned hand around the crown of the Mandalorian's helmet, forcibly drawing him up onto his knees. Bright burning eyes bore into the Mandalorian's visor, as though He could see past the layers of beskar, durasteel, and transparisteel that otherwise hid the warrior's face. Perhaps He could, the beast could do and see things that were far removed from the capabilities of ordinary men. His entire existence was an affront to the natural rhythm, a discordant melody that ran contrary to the harmony of the galaxy.

"And here I thought there were none of you left," the Skanah Aru'e's words vibrated deep in the warrior's bones, rattling his teeth with each syllable. "Little children of Mandalore playing pretend at warrior again. But you're not from Mandalore, are you? You don't have that stink on you. So where do you hail from, little one?" The warrior said nothing, He doubted any of them would knowingly betray their brethren. In response to the warrior's silence, His hand slipped down to cradle one side of the Mandalorian's helmet, the other joining on the opposite end.

"In the end it matters not, I suppose. Vermin are vermin regardless of what hole they crawl out of." Electricity sparked from the edges of His fingertips, saturating the helmet in an energizing web of deep red. For several seconds, nothing noteworthy happened. The lightning didn't seem to be affecting the armor's electronic components at all, not even a little. But, as the saturating continued, the metal itself began to heat up. Even the beskar, notoriously difficult to heat to the point of malleability, was turning a deep orange, and then a bright yellow, as the lightning surged through it.

The Mandalorian struggled, but found that he could not move his limbs. His body was seized in a vice, tight and constricting, and he could do little else but scream as his body cooked inside of his own armor. When the Skanah Aru'e released His hold, the Mandalorian's armor fell down into a pile of ash; all that remained of the warrior inside the armor. Wiping His hands of whatever residual soot had clung to Him, Darth Carnifex looked to the other Mandalorians that had been apprehended by His forces during the earliest stages of the conflict.

"So, little children of Mandalore. Who's next to die for a parcel of dirt?"

Siv Dragr | Gel Karn | Carduul Akahl ​

 

[Siv Dragr]

G U N S L I N G E R
Seswenna
​

Allies: Carduul Akahl | Gel Karn
Enemies: Darth Carnifex | Sith Order

Cold, hard metal echoed underneath Siv's boots as he and Carduul made their way through the heart of the city. Hours earlier, the Iron Covenant had suddenly descended on Seswenna, taking the unsuspecting Sith world by surprise. They were so comfortable, so sure of their invulnerability; it made Siv sick. Now fires burned, and explosions rang throughout the industrial center.

Originally assigned to retrieve intel, Siv and Carduul had diverted from their objective -- other capable warriors would handle that -- to a distress call from a fireteam deep in the heart of the city. Their comms had cut before they could transmit exactly what they'd come up against, but on their tactical networks, the fireteam's last known position had been triangulated from their broadcast. Siv trusted few other than himself, but after their mission to Mytus VII he felt he could rely on the ex-Crusader.

As they made their way, first by jetpack, then by foot through sprawling factory levels, Siv felt a burning anger deep inside. Any Sith soldiers they chanced across along the way, he dispatched with prejudice. The ghosts of his clan, eviscerated in the Sith's genocide of Mandalore, haunted him even more in this cursed space. Siv had yet to avenge them and lay their souls to rest.

When the Skanah Aru'e released His hold, the Mandalorian's armor fell down into a pile of ash; all that remained of the warrior inside the armor.

"So, little children of Mandalore. Who's next to die for a parcel of dirt?"

Siv's long-range audio receptors began to pick up the noise, and he hurried his pace. "Target's close," he said under his breath to Carduul, at his side. They rounded a corner, and Siv was not prepared for what he saw. A group of Mandalorian warriors, subdued, and in front of them, his back turned to them, the silhouette of a monster. Siv recognized the voice, the familiar presence. Perhaps the one being most hated by the Mando'ade. The one whom Siv had sworn he would fell, or die trying: Darth Carnifex.

"Free the captives," he said aside to Carduul, in a hushed tone but amplified by their comms systems so that his vod could hear."Carnifex is mine." Then he switched his voice modulator to amplify. "Surprised?" He growled, his voice carrying across the cavernous industrial hall while he drew his blaster. At the same instance, he threw one of his smoke bombs towards the Sith's feet, bouncing against the ferrocrete surface before detonating. A spiralling hiss of smoke began to issue first, creating a quickly growing cloud. Siv's HUD switched automatically to an overlayed heat-signature and electromagnetic sensor feedback, and he engaged his armor's atmospheric pressure seal to protect himself from the airborne neurotoxins of the aerosol.

Hopefully, no one would develop any addictions to death sticks from his smoke bomb use.

Trusting that Carduul would take advantage of the momentary distraction, Siv lined his sights on the Sith Lord with fluid precision, his blaster set on marksman mode. His thumb squeezed the trigger as fast as his blaster could fire, a rhythmic cascade of bright-red laser bolts glowing through the growing smoke cloud.

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Siv Dragr | Gel Karn | Darth Carnifex

If there had been any foe he had eventually wished to turn the wrath of his forces unto, the obvious answer would have been the Sith. It was only natural, of course. The Sith would be as they simply always would—evil, and wretched to the core. Natural conquerors, enslavers, usurpers all. The crimes against Mandalorian kind had been too numerous, and the retaliatory strikes of his people had never truly made up for it. Still, the cycle would repeat; because to allow evil to remain unopposed was to succumb to that same influence. Even if they seemed to be dormant, it was but a question of ‘when’ such a facade of stagnation would end. One could argue Mandalorian Crusaders, in many fundamental aspects, correlated. He, however, ultimately disagreed.

As such, he was more than content to resume the carnage in such a direction. And when a distress call came, he had diverted from the original infiltration to accompany one he was now somewhat familiar with. The Crusader was never truly one for stealth, anyways. The Mandalorian hardly needed to raise a blaster pistol- foes who had come across their mission were dispatched so vehemently that he didn’t often get the chance.

But ultimately, their destination had made itself clear. With it, so too had their opponent. The booming mockery from a voice all-too-known to any Mandalorian.

Carnifex. Obviously… it was a name that had more than earned its infamy. One he had, inevitably, braced himself to face. What caught him by surprise though, was the insistence of his kin to wish to fight them, alone. “...There is no room for pride or glory in fighting such a thing, Dragr.” Was his stern reply, “Fight well.” What was he to say? That it was a pointless endeavor without the proper firepower, the willingness to make sacrifices of oneself? It would’ve done no good. For now, his efforts would focus on the task at hand. On making the most of the diversion Siv would provide.

Within the moments of the other’s assertion, smoke engulfed the room. His own sealed and adjusted armor would give him enough cover from the toxic fumes. In the meantime, Carduul had diverted sidelong towards the Darth’s forces that had entrapped what remained of the strike team. What was originally a grim execution site became the scene of a skirmish, and he would move gracefully within the chaos. His heavy blaster pistol thoomed aloud in one hand as he pushed up as suppressive fire blindly exchanged, whilst Dragr had directed their efforts to the wretched Sith. In his other hand, the poleaxe maneuvered to skewer the closest troop's leg from the fog, before tearing out and severing the then-grounded head. Hopefully, they had arrived in time to find survivors. Else, this would all be a pointless excursion.

 

[Brent Warnel]

SESWENNA
TAG: Varin Mortifer
LOCATION: THE SPIRE​

"Primary objective is anything that can further the Fleet's expedition," Brent told his team. "Secondary is anything that may be of use to us in the future, but may not be pertinent at this time. I'm not gonna hold your hand, you're all adults, get in and get whatever information will help us, and then get out, no heroics. We're here for information, not death," he said as his Neo-Crusader helm swept the group.

"We're gonna be split up, but I want encrypted comms active, and I want ears open, clear?"

A series of nods came back at him as he surveyed the group again, all Clan Warnel, all his Vode. Some more tested than others, but still there to further the vision of their new allies. Brent saw the Golden Crescent gleaming on their shoulders as they prepared to infiltrate the Governor's Spire.

They had their objective from the Covenant, and Brent had his own from his past.

-----

Brent's fingers gripped the surface of the Spire as he climbed. His HUD slowly pinged, letting him know where the other members were as they made their ascent as well. From his vantage, Brent could see distant explosions throughout the city as Mandalorian squads and Sith troopers battled in the streets.

His suits advanced environmental suites kept him hidden from whatever defenses were on the Spire, or so he hoped. So far, he had not been engaged by automatic turret fire or defensive means from the tower or any roaming kill squads, which meant he was well and truly hidden, or they were luring him in for a trap.

Brent's helmet turned up, looking at the Spire loom above him, and he felt his spirit fail slightly. Look how far I still have to go.

But then a fire lit in his belly and in his heart. Yes, look at it! He thought. He was finally on the path to bring some type of retribution to the Sith, finally. Mandalorians always talked about the enemy in the dark, the Sith. Yet there were few who tried to bring the Sith to any type of justice. Even this new Mandalorian Empire hadn't, hell, they sided with them from what he had heard.

Brent's blood burned at the thought. His body moved faster, climbing the Spire, pulling himself closer to a mid-level maintenance hatch that he could access.

After some time, he made it to a small landing that protruded from the Spire. Recessed into the landing was a small maintenance hatch, mostly used by droids, but big enough for a humanoid shape to duck through.

Brent stabbed a spike into the door terminal and waited as it conducted its work, spinning back and forth before stopping and piercing deeper into the terminal's port, forcing the door open.

With the wind whipping his purple cloak out behind him, Brent entered the maintenance hatch door and into the darkness of the Spire. A purple glow burned into his mind as he knew what he had really come to this Spire for. In his HUD, multiple green pings began to illuminate as members of his Clan also infiltrated the Spire.

 

[Signy Bralor]

SIGNY BRALOR
SESWENNA | ESCORT PATROL
TAG: Romul Saxon Seva Beroya Kjartan Hammer-Hand
GEAR: MNV-52 STARFIGHTER
VISIBLY PRESENTING: Female

"Wolf squadron reporting in on sector, initialiting run now. Over" Signy said into her comm as her, her squadron, their assigned loyal wingmen of basilisks and the heavy bombers all banked towards and onservation and control post that was overseeing the extraction corridor. Phased shielding was making the outpost resistant to bombardment but it was calculated that low flying bombers could do the job if they could get past the enemy combat space patrol.

"Ok Wolf leader, your path looks clear of heavy flak, keep it tight, over"

She nodded, then cursed internally as her ship shook from a nearby flack burst, she would be fascinated to lnow where the line between heavy and light flak was. But they pressed on towards their target. There was something gnawing at her, trying to make her doubt herself, but she ignored it, she was told to expect Sith tricks on their mission. She just needed to trust herself and her vode.

​

 

[Gel Karn]

GEL KARN
SESWENNA
TAG: Darth Carnifex , Carduul Akahl , Siv Dragr
GEAR: Two Vonduun Crab Legs, Slave Rags

Ever see Kingsman? ​

Gel Karn could only look on in abject horror as Darth Carnifex went about his most grisly task, vaporizing the poor Mandalorian warrior in front of him without so much as a second thought. Gel had always been taught to believe in the invincibility of Beskar, but clearly even it had its limits, as had been so clearly demonstrated before all that Darth Carnifex and his host had brought with him. Gel simply continued his work for the Sith Lord, hammering out a mostly finished Sith Sword that Carnifex had demanded he forge for him, something that Gel had reluctantly done for the man.

Not that he really had a choice in the matter, of course. After nearly fifteen years of forced servitude to Carnifex and his war machine, Gel was on especially thin ice, as his last escape attempt had nearly been successful in getting him off this accursed planet. For what seemed like an eternity to Gel, he had been punished for his failed attempt, having been electrocuted by Sith Lightning and subject to all manners of psychological torture. Because he was such a skilled armorer and blacksmith, the Sith dared not to do anything to him that might cause him physical harm, though affecting his mental state was an entirely different matter. His last torture session had nearly broken Gel, and at this point, he had all but given up on trying to get his freedom.

That was, until, Seswenna had come under attack by a group of noble Mandalorians!

They were a bunch that Gel didn't recognize, and he wasn't sure what they were doing here or what they were trying to accomplish, though he could imagine pretty well what they wished to do. In fact, he wouldn't have been half surprised if they were trying to kill him, considering he had been forced to construct hundreds, if not thousands, of weapons and armors for the Sith and their forces. At the moment, however, Carnifex was doing what he did best: maiming and killing with indiscriminate pleasures, though the Mandalorains he had captured still refused to divulge anything about who they were or what they were doing here. Gel silently cursed, for surely Carnifex would force him to clean up the mess he was making and them reforge their Beskar into instruments of evil for him and his cronies.

His mutterings were, however, suddenly interrupted by explosions of smoke and blaster bolts as yet another group of Mandalorians entered the room. Gel immediately hit the deck, dropping onto the floor as fighting commenced all around him. He could barely see and breathe with all the smoke around him, coughing and wheezing as he tried to find any bit of fresh air that was still available. Fumbling around blindly for a weapon, Gel reached for the Sith Sword that he had been finishing but could not find it, someone probably having grabbed it or the sword itself having been blown away in the confusion of the attack. Having now gotten on his hands and knees, Gel continued to look around in desperation for something, anything, that could be used as a weapon to defend himself. He finally settled on a pair of Vonduun Crab Legs that he had been told to make something with, since they were both wickedly sharp and lightsaber resistant.

Still coughing and sputtering, and barely able to see, Gel located the nearest Sith warrior and tackled him to the ground, stabbing him in the throat with his improvised weapons. Now he had REALLY done it! Though he had tried to escape many times before, this was the first time he had ever killed someone doing so, and as skilled as he was, he doubted the Sith would let him live any longer for what he had just done.

Gel was now fully committed to gaining his freedom...or to die trying! ​

 

[Darth Strosius]

Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Reggie Rau / Open!
--------------------------------------------

Darth Strosius hadn't hesitated to respond when the first distress call came from a bewildered and frantic Seswenna, ringing out across Sith space to summon all nearby forces to their aid. How lucky they were that the Order of Wonosa were never very far from the Blackwall's edge. By the time that His dropships and shuttles broke into the atmosphere, leaving the conflict in orbit behind to instead weave through plumes of smoke from both industry and destruction alike, the incursion was already well underway.

Yet their own landings were made alongside the planet's local forces still scrambling and maneuvering to make perimeters and positions amongst the sprawling factories and urban buildup that surrounded them. All of which the Mandalorians seemed more than happy to wreck and ruin as they set upon the world. Darth Strosius simply couldn't allow that to happen, certainly not when it came in tandem with them outright kidnapping the workers that were still trapped within the area of conflict.

That part in particular had been more than enough reason for Him to intervene directly Himself in the matter. In truth He didn't know enough about Mandalorians to know if they were the slaving or torturing type but He couldn't think of any positive reason that an enemy would be capturing their citizenry so it was all the same really. Better to be safe than sorry, as it were.

And so it was that Darth Strosius had taken to the factory battlefield, followed by as many of His Uzstafas Guard as He could bring to bear to aid the Seswennan defense and push back the Mandalorian raid. Ideally He could cleave a path to their landing zones and cut off both their supply line and their extraction route in one fell swoop while His forces aided the locals in the wider fighting.

But the factories wouldn't be the only place that the Order of Wonosa would arrive at on Seswenna, far from it in fact. All across the world at the now mostly depleted security stations and defensive departments, that weren't under attack and thus had sent the majority of their personnel to the conflict, the Legion of Kerstas would appear. Ostensibly to aid in their protection in case of further Mandalorian attacks, but in reality they were there to dig in themselves amidst the chaos of the wider battle. And they had no intentions of leaving.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Tags: Open!

The Order of Wonosa had arrive to Seswenna in force, bringing to bear a sizeable enough fleet to aid in the world's defense alongside the existing naval assets guarding the sector. They took up an aggressive flank and guarded the Jurgoran Transports that would carry their ground forces planetside, including their Prophet Darth Strosius Himself of course. Once the transports had broken atmosphere though the Wonosan formation moved from defensive to offensive rather swiftly.

Their fighters were loosed from their mountings, the Valikas squadrons surging forwards into the fray first and entangling themselves in the dogfighting and fighter fuzzballs which had already been in action throughout the orbital engagement. In their wake some of the Massassi squadrons would follow, but most would stay in escorts around the Wonosan task force as it moved in and began laying down fire into the Mandalorian vessels. The same would go for the Kzaevas squadrons, hanging back and waiting to pick their targets.

For the few Tyro squadrons however they wouldn't veer towards the conflict in orbit but rather coast along the bottom of the action for an entirely different purpose. They were guarding the escape vectors for any and all ships attempting to flee the planet. The Mandalorian ones would of course be their primary targets but for the more paranoid and desperate residents and officials that sought to flee Seswenna they wouldn't be granted a simple escape either. They'd be commanded to turn back and fight for their world or die in orbit above it in a traitor's death, and the Tyro pilots had no qualms seeing such an ultimatum through.

For the task force itself it moved in a clustered yet solid formation, keeping its Arbite cruisers and Indictable frigate at the center whilst the Kaas star destroyers took point and rear respectively. The Altorius frigates and Wyrm corvettes comprised the flanks of the formation, supported by the Massassi squadrons. The task force flew as one away from orbit and into the wider fighting along the flank, keeping the planet on one side at all times in order to attempt to safeguard access to Seswenna's surface even as their guns began to open up on their foes.

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

Two Kaas-class Star Destroyers

• Servant of Retribution as Fleet Lead
  • 2 Tyro Interceptor Squadrons
  • 1 Kzaevas Bomber Squadron
• Faithful In Arms
  
  • 2 Tyro Interceptor Squadrons
  • 1 Kzaevas Bomber Squadron

Two Arbite-class Cruisers

• Lasting Conviction as Primary Starfighter Command and Coordination
  • 4 Massassi Starfighter Squadrons
  • 1 Valikas Droid Starfighter Squadron
• Infinite Contempt
  
  • 3 Massassi Starfighter Squadrons
  • 2 Kzaevas Bomber Squadrons

Two Altorius-class Escort Frigates

• Prime Savior
  
  • 2 Massassi Starfighter Squadrons
• People's Champion
  
  • 1 Massassi Starfighter Squadron
  • 1 Vezioti Shuttle Squadron

One Indictable-class Frigate

• Reasonable Contempt as Droid Starfighter Command and Coordination
  • 1 Valikas Droid Starfighter Squadron

Three Wyrm-class Corvettes

• Righteous
  
  • 1 Valikas Droid Starfighter Squadron
• Clerical
  
  • 1 Valikas Droid Starfighter Squadron
• Failsafe
  
  • 1 Valikas Droid Starfighter Squadron

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber


One of his Nagai warriors had eyes on the tower from a far, a long range blaster rifle at the ready but was not given the clear to fire. Only to observe.

He watched from afar through his scope as the Mandalorian seemed to climb into a maintenance hatch after a daring ascension towards the mid range of the tower.

“Lord Mortifer, we have a rodent trespassing through maintenance hatch thirteen.”

Varin sat in his chambers he was given for prayer and meditation, his thumb running over each bead of bone on his rosary when the message came in. His prayer process interrupted, he listened to the message.

“Any others?”

He spoke quietly into his comms, then waited patiently for a response.

“I'm not quite sure. It's highly likely, but I only got a good look at the one.”

Varin rose to his feet, stuffing the rosary into one of his belt pouches.

Intruders here of all places.

It was his first time visiting the planet ran by his grandmaster. He wished to visit the Children of Wonosa, to learn more about them and their worship to Bogan. That would unfortunately have to wait.

“Send a squad to scour the area around Maintenance door thirteen, if there is a rodent here, best we flush it out.”

There was a pause from the other side before he received verbal confirmation.

“It will be done.”

Varin looked towards the helm that sat waiting for him. His armor already strapped to his body. In front of his helm sat his blade and his saber hilt. The heavy mace already holstered over his back. He picked up the helm, staring into its visor before putting it on. Small locks clicked into place as his rebreather kicked to life.

The pyroclastic cloak billowed from his back like a blackened cloud of death, small tendrils of superheated smoke slithered and ran along the floor and walls around him.

He stepped to the door of his chambers allowing the doors to hiss open before he made his way down the hall towards the maintenance room attached to Hatch Thirteen.

Brent Warnel​

 

[Fenn Stag]

Tags: Open
Equipment: look man it's just regular Mandalorian stuff and his usual stuff idk​

Violence.

It was not inherent in every culture, and frowned upon in most. Even Sith sometimes balked at the idea, often using subterfuge, dealings, coercion to gain power, influence, or change. But the Mandalorians were different. Mandalorians- not the pacifists, not the reformers who turned their heads in shame at their old ways, were in truth, practicers of the greatest violence.

War was always waiting for sentient species. War was waiting when the first beings in the galaxy learned to walk upright. War was waiting when the first beings took their first drinks of water, took their first hunts, made their first tools. War was always waiting.

But the Mandalorians made war their lives. It is why they could not be beaten. They never would. Despite every effort to do so, Mandalorians would never be defeated. They were not a culture, a centralized location, relying on books, temples, artifacts. They were an idea, and everything else was superficial. It was difficult to explain to those not within the culture or having an understanding of it that simple fact.

It was why they were going to inflict such heavy damage on the Sith here that it would be difficult to ascertain how a small force accomplished so much. Fenn was lying in wait, a contingent of Guard and Legion en hasty route to the Mandalorian. Hastily made reinforcements, some more equipped and in better states of preparedness than others. He bowed his head against the barrel of his rifle, repeating the words that echoed through eternity.

"..Taung sa rang broka Mando'ade ka'rta."

Taung were long dead, ancient warriors that existed before most of the galaxy had begun to even write down their histories. Existing in the hearts of Mandalorian, was the legacy of the Taung, warriors of shadow, hidden from the light for hundreds of years, and despite the calamity of ancient Coruscant- fought on. He reached down and charged his weapon.

"Dha Werda Verda a'den tratu..."

He was the rage of the shadow warriors, their ultimate revenge against a galaxy that wronged them: continuing to exist, fighting on.


"Manda'yaim kandosii adu.."

The first noble sons of Mandalore. The first of many. But still the first. He primed his sights on his weapon. Zeroed, accurate, deadly. His muscles relaxed, preparing to pivot out of his covered position to ambush the platoon-sized element.

"Duum motir ca'tra nau tracinya..."

Anyone who stood against them, they intended and did their best to burn away, to inflict as much damage as possible. Everyone knew who the Mandalorians were. Every being in the galaxy had an opinion about them, and most, most feared them. With good reason. Fenn rose to a stand, the enemy troops below him, two columns rushing towards the foundry and raid.

"Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a!"

His vengeance was the vengeance of the Mandalorians. He was one of many. He turned, pivoting on his right foot and out-stepping of his cover. His left wrist went up first, his hand still on his rifle. A rocket sped towards the column, and impacted the middle of the column. The troops scattered, and the fight was on. Panicked blaster fire returned, but Fenn was faster, deadlier, more accurate. Three troopers in his initial burst of slugthrower fire fell, and Fenn went back into cover as their weapons impacted the duracrete around him. He picked his legs up, crushgaunts pushing off of the duracrete as he sought his next position.

The fight was on!