Jetii delenda est [ Mandalorian Raid of Ossus vs. SJO ]

[Marcus Lok]

Objective: Keep on Shootin'!
Allies: Mandos
Enemies: Jetii and their gun toting subordinates
Location: Aegis Base (Turret Housing, Southern Flank)

Marcus set to work immediately, quickly cracking a chem stick. The florescent green light that came from the small capsule comforted him for only a few moments as the laser fire began and they were undoubtedly discovered.

He shifted the Mechamiri pack quickly off of his shoulders and let it drop onto the metal grate that formed the floor of the maintenance tunnel before opening the top of the unit and retrieving the datapad which would be crucial in the next few moments of his work. The preliminary hope going into the endeavor had been one that heavily relied on silence and stealth, and the shouts through his comm link gave him a pretty good picture of what was going on outside already... Well.. Balls to the plan.

"Gun's gonna be ours in a few, just buy me some time!"

After the sit-rep, he scrambled down the crawlspace that eventually lead to a very closely knit series of monitors that would have served normally as the access panels for engineers who were coming in to check the turret's operational systems before firing tests, but now, they would be his playground. He brought the pad forth and ran an up link to the first module that he saw, labeled with small black pieces of electrical tape reading out the letters: FCH 1

The security system that the turret had already in place were rather rudimentary, multiple password locks that were overridden with the code scrambling device he had brought with him, soon it was just a matter of waiting for the device to do it's work. It was an agonizing few minutes of whirring, clicking, and overall boring computer noises until the machine flashed green with positive statements. A grin shot to his face as he finally knew that his device worked, if only on general military security systems that weren't anything special... It did the job.

Then he had it. Switching to the multiple camera functions that would normally be controlled by the crew in the housing below, Marcus began to systematically change the passwords that the gun crew would have used normally to access their machines, right before their eyes. And there it was. The targeting reticle for the gun was now in his control via his datapad. He began to select targets with the gun's camera while lieng on his back in the greenish light that poured from the chem stick and the computer read them as follows:

TARGETING SEQUENCE
1. Custom Acquisition
2. Custom Acquisition
3. Custom Acquisition
4. Turret S-3
5. Turret S-1

Then.. The wait. From within the housing's maintenance shaft, Marcus could hear the rotary engines of the turrets ring shifting about with long mechanical groans before they finally settled upon the first custom targets.

From outside of the turret, as the battle began to intensify between the small scout party and the approaching droid platoon, the turret's gun would suddenly release it's first shell of the day at the mechanical warriors in the center of their line, then the left flank, then the right. It was successive firing that was difficult to manage with the gun's clear preferential use against low flying gunships and heavily armored walkers, but the sheer explosive force of each bolt slamming into the ground should have had a good effect on each section of targets. Then came the more critical targets.

Marcus felt a bead of sweat drip off of his forehead as he began to track his finger against the small pad until he could see the outline of the next Ballista turret on the south side of the fort, S-3 meaning South Turret 3, and soon the gun sprang to life once more, creating a great molten hole in the firing breech of the other turret, and with a few more tracks of the finger, the final target shared a similar fate.

With his job done, for the most part, Marcus set the targeting computer to fire off it's remaining ammunition into the long stitched lines of trenches in random patters, until it was likely destroyed by retaliatory fire.

It was time to make his way out.

[member="Thurion Heavenshield"] / [member="Vilaz Munin"] / [member="Dariak Talesa"] / [member="Brent Warnel"] / [member="Kade Kelborn"] / [member="Coci Heavenshield"] / [member="Jamie Pyne"] / [member="Connor Harrison"] / [member="Ronan Vizsla"] / [member="Grim Vizsla"] / [member="Alkesh Vizsla"] / [member="D’in Ss’ikoo"] / [member="Aela Talith"] / [member="Travot Ravenna"] / @D'vok Windroamer / [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]​

 

[H3xle]

Allies: [member="Calina Ovmar"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="The Rusted Queen"] [member="Darth Ignus"] [member="Phax"] [member="Kevros Kovani"]
Enemies: Jedi [member="jamie pyne"]
Neutral: Mandos
Objective: Obfuscate, misdirect, and infiltrate

Waide's heart rate increased slightly at the nearness of the Jedi padawan. He inhaled deeply through his nose, then dropped his hand from his eyes, turning them up to meet hers. His eyes were dry.

With only that as warning, he attempted to push against her with the Force, wanting to push them away from each other. Focusing the push with his right hand, he pulled and activated the flash bang with his left, dropping it between them as he squeezed his eyes shut and began to turn.

​The concussion of the flash bang, if it was allowed to go off, would rupture his own ear drums as he began to run unevenly towards the exit to the atrium they had come in. He had seen the route towards his ship as they walked towards their current position. He wanted to make a beeline to his ship and get off the planet as quickly as possible, away from the temple at the very least, if he couldn't get off the planet. As he stumble ran, assuming his plan went the way he wanted, he flexed his wrist and took his lightsaber hilt into his palm. The time for subterfuge was over, and he might need it to escape with his life.

 

[D'vok Windroamer]

"Oh, great more mando- is that kriffing-"
THOOOOOOOOOM!
The turret's point of impact was about 10 yards away from D'vok, but the sheer impact of the laser was enough to send him flying. D'vok face-planted in the dirt,and looked up hazily. he couldn't see out of his left eye. It was bleeding heavily. several shots landed near him, one landing a little too close to his head than he wanted, and he scurried away from his landing position, moving to an area near a tree. he took several potshots at Tal'kad Verde, trying to see the turret. he caught a glimpse of a man on top of the wall, near the now converted turret. D'vok activated his saber, and rocket-jumped up the wall, attempting to simultaneously land and kick the man.

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Location: Aegis Base - Jedi Temple
Allies: [member="Aela Talith"] & SJO
Enemies: [member="Waide"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | Mandalorians | Sith

His eyes would catch hers as he looked up to Jamie, his deception not having gone unnoticed. That single, brief moment where a burst of information raced to her brain that he had actually tricked her this time. A slight quiver of her lips and a softening of her expression as her eyes widened, feeling the sudden thrust of energy pulse from the man's hand against her chest. The smallest bit of trust and empathy she had shown was betrayed before her very eyes. There was no anger there, no hatred, just confusion. Her weakness, a desire to help others, had been exploited by a man who hadn't known her in the slightest. There was little she could do to react, save for brace herself for the fall as her body came back to the ground several meters away.

Her right hand down followed her right knee which caught the hard stone with sufficient force to elicit a yelp before her left leg landed a bit more gracefully. With a quick snap of her neck she looked up from her near olympic sprint position to see Waide throw down some kind of explosive. Is he out of his mind!? Her inner monologue was self serving however, as it was clearly obvious that he was in fact, crazy. With a swipe of her hand she sent the device down the corridor opposite the one they had come from, hearing the near deafening explosion and momentary blinding light from a relatively safe distance away. With a snarl the Padawan scooped herself up from the ground and began after the soldier as fast as her legs would carry her. While he hadn't managed to lose her, he had a few steps advantage.

"STOP WAIDE!" She screamed, her voice nearly breaking as she raced after him, her lightsaber in hand and now alive, casting a brilliant yellow hue along the walls as she made for the exit and Waide.

 

[H3xle]

Allies: [member="Calina Ovmar"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="The Rusted Queen"] [member="Darth Ignus"] [member="Phax"] [member="Kevros Kovani"]
Enemies: Jedi [member="jamie pyne"]
Neutral: Mandos
Objective: Escape

Things hadn't gone as Waide had hoped, but he doubted he would have gotten a better chance to escape. Not after she had confronted him.

Now, he was a mere handful of steps ahead of the padawan, the glow of her lightsaber casting an oddly colored shadow before him. His own lightsaber remained unlit, but firmly in his hand now. He didn't slow, however, as he wanted as much distance as he could get before things went into melee. Preferably, he'd get out of the mountain, but that seemed less than likely.

Soldiers they passed looked utterly surprised, seeing a Jedi running after a man dressed as one of them. Being protected by the Silver Order, they mostly knew that anyone running from a Jedi wasn't likely one of them. The fact that he was running with the enhanced speed of a force user, meant they were giving the whole chase a wide berth.

"STOP WAIDE!"

He heard her call out, and he pitched his voice behind him. The frightened soldier was gone from his voice, replaced, albeit huffily from the running, with a deeper voice that resounded with a distinct anger. "Do not chase me..." breathe in "...Padawan Pyne." pause and breathe in "My goal is not..." breathe in "...your life." pause and breathe in "Return to your Master." He then leaned forward into his run, pushing onwards through the base towards the exit point that would take him to his ship.

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Location: Aegis Base - Jedi Temple
Allies: Aela Talith & SJO
Enemies: [member="Waide"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | Mandalorians | Sith

That vein in the forehead that tended to flare when a person became incredibly frustrated was now visible as she charged after Waide, carefully deactivating her weapon as she weaved in between a few soldiers that hadn't made the pathway open quite enough, quickly snapping the plasma sword back to life as she cleared the bodies in the halls. Force enhancements were something she was still not overly great at, and she found herself stumbling a time or two in her stride before catching herself. The man didn't want to let up, didn't want to let Jamie catch him, and certainly didn't want to give himself up to arrest. What she wanted though was answers, and boy was she ever determined to get them. After all, he did just throw a flash grenade towards her not more than a couple minutes prior, and prove that he was in fact a Force user, meaning he was likely Sith as well. If he was though, why didn't he just take the chance he had to kill her? Instead of throwing the grenade, why hadn't he pulled the blaster that was on the floor with the Force and shoot her? It wasn't quite like he didn't have the element of surprise. Perhaps he wasn't quite as evil as he believed he was, even if his story had been false.

"You know I can't let you go Waide!" Up ahead she could see the light that bled inwards to the lobby of the temple. "Just stop!"

With her free hand the blonde used what bit of mastery over the Force she could to try and send an idle durasteel crate barreling towards the man with enough force to knock him off balance and hopefully over so that she could reach him before he got to the exit. If by some miracle she had succeeded, once Waide got his bearings about him and stood back up he would turn to see the Jedi standing blade length away, though the weapon noticeably directed towards the ground rather than at his head.

 

[Marcus Lok]

Marcus quickly began to descend the rungs of the ladder as the turret kept on blowing away Silver positions in the general vicinity, and he was quite pleased with himself. Now if he could only get down the karking ladder without being shot in the side, ever-...

TOOM!

The unmistakable sound of metal hitting metal would have Marcus' ears ringing well after the crazed scoundrel had landed a boot straight to the back of his helmet, slamming it against the hard durasteel of the ladder rungs. Marcus lost his grip with his head momentarily boggled into a state of confusion and he let go of the rungs, falling the last few yards down onto his back where he hit the dirt with a soft thud.

"Ugh.... What the hell?... Motherfething Jetii karking..." The latter insults and curses would come at a blindingly fast speed and all would be unintelligibly concealed under his breath once Marcus gained the wherewithal to stand up on his own to feet and raw his blasters, searching for the target that had caused him such discomfort.

@D'vok Windroamer

 

[D'vok Windroamer]

D'vok quickly landed on the ground, in front of Marcus. His lightsaber was drawn. He rolled his right arm back once, as the impact of D'vok hitting the mandalorian had clearly been harmful for both parties.
"You're a mando, right? Ner Vod? Adramte kebbur tahla'ada troan. Tsikador at pabida gar edee tettar o'r?"
D'vok raised his lightsaber, and struck a defensive pose, praying he could figure out how to block blaster bolts like he saw all the time. It had been a long time since D'vok had fought, or even seen mandalorian, however he hoped this would go better than the last time.

 

[Marcus Lok]

Marcus tilted his head slightly at the Mando'a that was being shouted at him in an accent so broken that he doubted even the mud wrestlers of Dxun would be able to understand. Was this guy serious? Whoever he was, Jetii by the looks, he certainly wasn't the brightest bulb in the box to let Marcus stand up, but it certainly was honorable.

"Tsikador ash'amur, shabuir!"

With the time for talk done and gone, Marcus took several back paces as he let loose a torrent of blaster fire into the strange man, hoping to overwhelm his position with superior firepower instead of getting into a long term engagement with him. Hopefully it would do the trick... His ears were still ringing!

 

[D'vok Windroamer]

D'vok quickly raised and turned his blade, as to deflect some of the shots. A few were in fact, blocked, but the majority, blasted holes in the duresteel armor, however not puncturing D'vok's skin. D'vok charged Marcus, unleashing a barrage of stabs, slashes and chops. All the while, D'vok attempted to tap into the force, and constrain Marcus' movements, using said force. If all went right, Marcus' armor would feel twice as heavy, the triggers physically harder to pull, and every punch would tire him out beyond belief. This was all a mind game, none of these actions where actually true. However, if pulled off, Marcus would feel this way, allowing D'vok to attack more freely.

 

[Marcus Lok]

Marcus was all too glad to see a few glowing holes plugged into D'vok's armor, although the effect was rather minimal, he was confident now that this man was no Jetii... At least no serious one. Whatever and whoever he was, he sure knew how to swing a blade randomly, and that was something Marcus had altogether no experience with. He had studied a few Jetii fighting styles at the enclave, and this resembled none of them, and with no way to predict his movements, Marcus succumbed to a blow on his left pauldron that caused it to spark up if only for a second. No real damage would have been done to the beskar, but his clan's symbol would be all but in tatters! It had taken him the better part of a day to paint that on!

If the force hindrance that this man had intended was in earnest, it would have failed miserably thanks to his newest piece of hardware, the Mechamiri Pack which seemed to be working thus far, and so he continued on blasting away at the man as long as he were able. in an effort to protect himself better, he holstered one of his pistols as well, opting to turn on the wrist shield that had helped him immensely in past spars.

"You're out of your league!"

 

[D'vok Windroamer]

D'vok's lightsaber clashed with the wrist shield. It was a test of strength now. D'vok knew he could hold the position for long, but how long? He was already injured, and it was clear the force had little to no effect on the man. He had an idea. He had realized that his lightsaber had little to no effect on his armor, at least where he was able to hit him. D'vok had heard stories. where they stories? Or legends? That a famous smuggler, wielding a DL-44, had once taken out a mandalorian in full armor with one shot. He knew the blaster currently holstered was more powerful than most handheld weapons in the galaxy, but powerful enough to take out a fully clad mandalorian? it was a stretch. D'vok was willing to take that risk. D'vok's strength diminished, and so did his force in the clash. as Marcus appeared to have a lead over D'vok, He began his plan. He removed one hand from the handle of his saber, moving it to his torso, seemingly clutching his "wounds."
"I hope for your sake you're right."
In the blink of an eye, D'vok had drawn his pistol and fired as many times as he could directly at Marcus' lower torso. It was point blank, and D'vok prayed to the maker one of the shots would hit, or penetrate the mandalorian's armor.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YEkjLwqV65g​

​

Objective: Wrap it Up
Allies: [member="Coci Heavenshield"] | [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] | Mandalorians
Enemies Darth Carnifex | Sith

Watching the attack, Ijaat stayed back, getting a gauge of both the fighting styles for a minute. It was a boon, really, to study both for a moment. Gain a sense of their balance, their stances, their movements. An analytical mind honed by decades of war went to work on Carnifex from footwork to body mechanics, racing and planning. This was his arena, perhaps more than the other two even, in it's own way. But he did not heft the hammer or any of that such thing. Instead he raised the arm with the echani graphite cabling coiled into it. The arm that held a grappling hook ready to launch at a moments notice. This one, though, would not cut at the touch of a lightsaber.

From behind he drew a bead and launched it at the back of the neck at Carnifex, grinning. holding his other hand with the hammer back, ready to deliver a kinetic burst. It wouldn't be strong, such things were not his strong suit. But hopefully it would make it so either his cabling wrapped around the throat of the Sith, his push rendered him off balance for an opening, or outright dodging them gave Thurion an opportunity to strike. It mattered little who wound up scoring the hits. The Sith were always such that they were the greater threat. They had time and time again manipulated and devastated the Mandalorians in petty wars that brought no true glory.

As he did that, a thought sent Geoff scrambling for connections and broadcasts, carrying a recording to [member="Alec Rekali"], the one person he knew who might hate the Sith as much as him, and took them for what they were. It was grainy, but the identity of Carnifex and Thurion, and Ijaat, was unmistakable. The voice would be easy to authenticate. It was a simple thing for the A.I. to do, and hopefully it would damn the faithless lapdog. Show his true colors to those who blindly followed him. To be honest, this is where he had expected Ra to lead them, and he was surprised when the man hadn't. But it was no true shock to see a Vizsla apparently in league with Sith. Neither they nor the Jedi should be friends. But the Sith had very recently proven they were out to systematically destroy and manipulate the Mando'ade. The Jedi were just lazy and poor allies. Didn't take a tactical genius to figure out the more pertinent target.



OOC:

Recording Sent to [member="Alec Rekali"]

Spoiler

// Outer Rim Territories \\​

Auril Sector, Adega System, Ossus​

​

"A shame."

He took a step forward, allowing himself to plummet down the embankment to land upon equal ground with the Grandmaster and the errant Mandalorian. He placed both hands on his hips and detached a pair of lightsabers, one curved and the other straight, and held them aloft in both hands before activating both of their brilliant scarlet blades to fill the air with an eerie hateful glow. To [member="Ijaat Mereel"] neither of these weapons would have any serious impact on his being, but for [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] one of the blades held a special significance to him. It radiated a mixed aura of light and dark, albeit the dark seemed woefully oppressive and continuously shrouded what little light was left in a miasma of sorrow, yet some of the light managed to crack through the darkness. It was the lightsaber of Asha Seren pilfered off of her still warm corpse by Carnifex after he had brutally cut her down on Panatha, but it was only one of a pair.

The other had been sent back to Thurion as a warning, as a taunt, as a confirmation of her violent demise.

Now he intended to wield it in battle against him, and at that thought a vile grin spread beneath the horrific visage of his horned helmet. "I will ensure that Vizsla knows of this transgression, Mereel, and I will send him your broken body as penance." Without a warning the air shimmered in front of the Sith Lord, and conical blast of concentrated Force energy exploded into existence to form a wedge between the Grandmaster and Mereel, upon which Carnifex immediately sprung forward like a ball shot from a cannon towards Thurion, his most hated of adversaries.

If allowed to get near he would unleash his fury upon him, alternating high and low slashes and jabs with his lightsabers working in perfect unison to carve and to kill.

An addendum to the transmission from Geoff would read only "Troubling news from my Master..."

 

[Marcus Lok]

The DL-44 was not a weapon to be underestimated, and if his armor had been made of only standard durasteel, he might well be dead from the cavity it normally created in its victims, however, this was no normal steel. He felt the heat of the impact first, finding his leg under a sudden and shocking amount of pressure and then his stomach as the pistol was slowly raised in the firing arc. It was akin to being punched in the stomach by a wookiee and to say that he was winded, would be an understatement.

As he doubled over onto his side, scrambling to get up, it might well appear to D'vok that he was wounded, or perhaps dieng. The shot could well have gone through, right? Reality would tell a much different story as Marcus raised himself up on one knee, a massive scorch mark in both one of his shin guards and his breast plate, but not much other than that. He flinched at the pain that came with attempting to stand up to the man now, and for a few moments the belief that his leg was in fact fractured startled him quite a bit, but he continued to fire away with the blaster pistol that was still clutched in his right hand.

In an effort to level the playing field, if only slightly, Marcus deactivated the shield on his gauntlet and sent out the small microfiber grappling hook to wrap around the hilt of D'vok's lightsaber while he held it away in favor of his blaster, and attempted to quickly tug it free of the hand that held it.

 

[Travot Ravenna]

Location: South Aegis Base
Allies: [member="D'vok Windroamer"], Silver Jedi
Enemies: [member="Marcus Lok"], [member="Dariak Talesa"]

Rol and Travot managed to arrive near the gun emplacement just in time to see the weapon firing rounds at the Silver Jedi forces. Well, that's clearly not right...He felt his lungs begin to quiver as his bulky frame reached the edge of the gun emplacement. Significantly more lithe and agile, Rol vaulted up towards the gun's maintenance hatch just as [member="Marcus Lok"] abandoned his post within the gun itself. Rol can figure out whatever's going on in there...Travot turned his attention to the mandalorian slicer, but the man was already being engaged by [member="D'vok Windroamer"], and judging by the spitting distance that the two seemed to be fighting at, Travot doubted that it would be wise to interject himself into that fight. He caught movement from the corner of his eye as one of the Mandalorian commandos accompanying the slicer took aim at him.

Travot whipped his ignited saber around him in the tight arcs of a Soresu practicioner, letting the Force guide his movements. The first shot connected mid-blade before flying back into the ground between them. Travot surged forward as the next bolt flew at him. The susevfian's blade barely managed to meet the shot, and the man felt a warmth around his left shoulder before the jedi brought his blade down in a curt hack that sliced the man's gun in two. The jedi's left hand surged forward to grab the man and pull him into an elbow strike aimed at the man's trachea. The man huddled over from the impact and staggered backwards. The jedi sent a force push that only further unbalanced the man, sending him tumbling away from the gun emplacement.

Travot pivoted on his heel to face the other fighters and assumed a traditional defensive Soresu pose as a precaution against anyone who might attack him. The battle seemed to be growing fiercer as Ysanna sharpshooters and other Silver Jedi reinforcements began to enter the battlefield. He reached out to Rol's mind, and quickly found it. The two had shared a close connection after working and living together for the last year and a half.

What is going on in there?

Someone messed with the gun's computer. I've shut down the whole thing. Maybe one of the techs will be able to fix it when they get here.

We best guard it until that happens. Travot turned his emerald eyes to scan the environment before reaching out with the Force to feel any ill intent towards either him or Rol's.

 

[Causstik Rahn]

Crossk paced the bridge frantically. He was completely unsure what to do. Does he turn on his new found Sith allies or he does he simply leave them to his own devices. If he turned on them the Sith would never hire the mercs again. If he din't the Mandalorians would never hire the again. He had to act quickly as the new fleet had already begun to fire upon his new friends. He turned to his chief battle advisor and gave him a pleading stare "What do I do Chieftan?"

"You will have to fire upon the Sith vessels," He was correct of course. The battle was in favor of the Mandalorians at this point. If they lost a potential customer that was that. Right now, it was about survival.

"Fire the main cannons on the Sith fleet," He did not order to activate the hyperspace wells as an enemy who was cornered tended to fight all the harder to get free.

Causstik wandered the raging inferno in search of his prey. Their was no telling where the man was.. He had lost over half his forces and decided to retreat. He raise his wrist comm and hailed his forces "All units Rally on me, when the fleet is in position we will be leaving this planet,"

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Ijaat Mereel"]

ELSEWHERE

The boardroom held eighteen senior members of Clan Rekali: ship captains, station commanders, settlement leaders, witches. And Alec, the youngest one in the room by a decade. Alec, the Alor, the Aliit'buir, her grandfather's heir.

"What do we know about this Carnifex?" That was Cousin Oren, the pelko-venom prophet.

"Genocidal butcher," said Cousin Vesta. She combed her white hair with her fingers. Hadn't stopped doing that since she walked in. "King of Thule and other territories. Was a major voice in the One Sith. Left because of the starweirds."

Alec grimaced. "Other than being a Sith, has he shown he's our enemy?"

"Not that we know at the moment," said Oren with a massive grin that could have meant anything. "If anything, he's likely to be more open than most."

And thus more likely to have collaborated with, say, Vizsla. Vizsla, who didn't care much about the old grudges. Vizsla, who had gone on a secret raid that just happened to be joined by multiple Sith.

"Let's look into this," Alec said. "We've nearly finished our other business. Let's figure out what's going on. Deploy stealth probes to Ossus."

The Clan's hypercapable probes were of unique design. Their specialized miniature drives let them go unnoticed by hyperspace monitoring systems or reversion sensors. They decanted in the far outsystem and used powerful passive sensors get an idea of the big picture.

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

LOCATION: Slipping beneath the shield
OBJECTIVE: Disable the Mando ships

"Is he gone?"

Mara twitched. "Feth, Rissa, when did you get back aboard?"

The mousy ex-Silver Padawan slipped into the copilot's seat, though she sat with her hands in her lap. Didn't feel like she had a lot to contribute, and Mara hadn't really taught her the ropes of the Scar just yet anyway. "Couple minutes before the ship started moving. It was already running. I figured..."

"Yeah, I ran a quick preflight before I ran off. I'm aiming to get under there." Mara pointed at the shield and grinned at Rissa. "Earn your keep. Best way under?"

"By the, the...south. There's a dip."

The Scar of Ilum wheeled around and slowed as the shield drew closer. She measured eight metres keel to topdeck, and the gap was a good fifty, but the wrong flinch could get those margins wrong in all the worst ways.

A flinch, or a freaking Silver Jedi defensive turret firing at her and the trenches below. Mara skewed the freighter into a flat spin and dropped even lower. When she came around, the turrets had shot each other to bits. "Mandos," she hissed, and targeted the nearest grounded Mandalorian stealth ship where roiling dust outlined it. The Scar was outfitted with dorsal and ventral Conqueror ion cannons, exotic alien tech from the depths of wild space. They ignored and bypassed all known types of shielding, though their power drain dropped the Scar's intense shielding by half for the moment. She squinted as the cannons' intense blue light shone into the cockpit.

Bad form, disabling the getaway cars, but she'd had her fill of Mandalorian stealth ships at Ilum.

[member="Grim Vizsla"] [member="Marcus Lok"]

 

[Xena Amonali]

Location: Jedi Temple outside North Wing
Allies: SJO, [member="Kheera Reach"]
Enemies: The attackers to the north
Objective: Find out what exactly is going on

Having followed her master outside, Xena was taken a bit aback by the beauty of Ossus. Even though the sounds of guns firing echoed over to her ears, she still smiled a bit to herself from how everything looked. Carefully walking next to her master, Xena unholstered her DC-15s, checking that the settings were set to stun, not kill this time.

The blaring sounds of battle made the girl really uneasy. Her skin changing from the normal golden tinged hue to more of a silver hue. Shaking her head a few times she steeled her mind, following her master's instructions. "We are heading North, you may lead the way if you please. Let the Force guide your path." She heard her master speak to her, calming her nerves even further. The young girl started to sense out with the force, letting the soft pull of it lead her feet. The sounds of battle in the distance kept coming to her ears and as much as she wanted to turn towards the south she resisted the urge, instead following where they force decided to lead her.

Xena's hands gripped the pistol anxiously. As much as she showed off a presence of calm, Kheera could easily tell that the girl was anything but that. The soft silver tinge to her skin being highlighted by the incoming light around her. "There is battling all around us master... I can hear screams in the force from the south, yet I also hear some from the north," the girl had a puzzled look on her face. She decided that she had to act though. It would be easier for them to go and take some of their time to get to the northern end of the complex, considering that there may be other intruders along the way. Hefting up her pack she kept on walking leading Kheera along with her. Every step an unconscious movement along the path that the force was laying out for her.

She just hoped that the battle wasn't going as badly as the sounds she was hearing suggested.

 

[Sorel Crieff]

Location: Mountains, west of Aegis Base
Worthy Opponent: [member="Enyo Typhos"]

‘When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

For now we see in a mirror, darkly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.

And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.’

– 1 Corinthians 13

When Sorel was a child she was not a typical youngster. No Jedi ever is. Younglings study the Force from a young age and learn the sort of lessons that an average child would – but using a saber is not on a typical school’s curriculum. Nor is using a blaster or using the Force to defend the innocent and supress the aggressors the galaxy has to offer.

But children will be children. They got up to mischief, they raided the kitchen for anything sweet, they gave Masters and Knights alike rather cruel nicknames and they played the childhood games they brought from their various planets. Like hopscotch and skipping and various ball-games and even simpler pursuits – like handstands.

And cartwheels.

Bravery was not, as Sorel viewed it, entering into a fray blindly. Doing the right thing not knowing the consequence. Valour, in Sorel’s eyes, was about heading into a dangerous situation knowing full well the likely outcome. A Jedi never feared death, they merely embraced it as collateral in doing the greater good. Laying down your life and joining the Force in order to keep the peace was something you decided to do from the moment you agreed to be a Youngling. It was a vocation.

The moment she crested the mountain top, she’d seen it. Pain and suffering.

Hers.

But that did not deter her. It afforded her the chance to change the destiny shared with her but deep down she knew it was not avoidable. Yes, she could have stopped there and then and headed back down the mountain, but that was not in her nature. The Force brought her here for a reason and she trusted it as acutely now as she did when she was still a young Padawan. Her trust was that she would play her part in the greater good, not that she would emerge unscathed.

So even before the muscles contracted and the finger pulled on the trigger, she was in motion. Not to avoid the outcome – but at least to mitigate it. And cartwheels were the obvious choice under the circumstances.

As the miniature warheads exploded upon contact with the ground where her feet had been and the shooter followed her as she performed her Force enhanced acrobatics, Sorel felt the result of the tiny bits of shrapnel as they punctured the skin of her arms and legs. The shooter had the advantage and that could not be negated. All Sorel was able to do was limit the damage she took.

Finally, her circular movements took her behind a boulder and she paused, bleeding, whilst she regained some composure. The wounds would not kill her, but they impacted her mobility and the longer she remained without any medical aid, the greater the effect on her strength and stamina.

But still her sabers remained clipped to her belt.