Dominion Operation: Bondfire || Mandalorian Empire Dominion of Ancora

[Aether Verd]

OPERATION BONDFIRE
"Not all worlds are won in fire. Some are reforged in Iron."​

The drums of the Empire thunder once more.
The clans march. The banners rise. And now, the Empire answers a call long overdue.

Ancora remembered us.

When the Protectors stood tall, Ancora stood beside them—willing, steadfast, unbroken. But the galaxy shifted. The Planeshift shattered what bonds war could not. And in the silence that followed, shadows crept in.

Emboldened by the proximity of the Galactic Alliance, radicals rose. Dreamers with rifles and slogans, preaching democracy they neither understood nor earned. From their mountain stronghold, they launch ambushes and car bombings, calling themselves liberators. But they do not liberate. They endanger.

Ancora’s monarch, Sanya, has kept her people safe as long as she could. She has kept the lights on, the borders sealed, the history alive. Now, she opens the gates once more—and the Mandalorian Empire marches through.

The Caburian Creed has been taken.
The Warden’s title accepted.
And the call for war returned.

We do not come to occupy. We come to crush the rot—and build a future worth defending.

Spoiler: Tag

Odessa Djazit
Suleiman Lok
Kyrida Verd
Sari'la Kandosii
Jiriad Galaar
Adenn Vizsla
Kandosii Ka'rta
Manti Wyrvhor
Mia Monroe
Ladante Mamba
Raef Malstadt
Ciri Jade
Lunara Azure
Kirae Orade
Ro'talius Emanti
Jonah
Alora Vizsla
Zhulghua
Yolaghun
Tomaj Eldar
Lorcan Nanu
Michio Shingai
Kalðr Ísbjørn
Cordelia Malkavian
Drego Ruus
Rhys Swynol
"Templar"
CT-312
Lysara Rynn
Nephthys Nardithi-Verd
Hanna
Siae Andronike
Zlova Rue
Runi Kuryida
Ren Ashbridge
Aliza Vale
Thram Drokor
Sagan Verd
Tarw Rhyfelwr
Ze'bast Verd
Vyse de Valorous
Varuun Rekaal
Kuben Woods
Valeria de la Vallée
Lyra Scarlet
Trask Skirata
Talohn Atar
Incitrix
Klavatora Verd
Aselia Verd

Spoiler: Objectives

OBJECTIVE I: BREAK THE CHAINS
Location: Camp Libertia, Mountain Ranges of Ancora

The Insurgents have made their fortress.
An ancient mountain citadel, renamed Camp Libertia, now serves as the last bastion of radical resistance. Fed by black market arms, smugglers, and soft-bellied offworlders with big ideas, the fort bristles with stolen weapons and defiant slogans.

A full bombardment would reduce it to rubble—but the tunnels run deep. And the Queen has made it clear: collateral damage is not an option.

This is not a bombardment. This is a scalpel.

Breach the walls. Cut down the insurgent leaders. Secure the fortress. Cleanse the tunnels beneath. Let their so-called revolution die unmourned in the dark.​

PvE | Siege combat, infiltration, tunnel warfare, and brutal clarity encouraged!

OBJECTIVE II: THE IRON BASTION
Location: FOB Construction Site, Near the Capital

While fire rains in the mountains, the Empire lays a foundation in the plains.

Construction has begun on a new Forward Operating Base—a fortress equipped with orbital-range cannons and planetary-scale defense systems. This is more than a stronghold. This is a message: Ancora will never stand alone again.

But defenses take time.
Engineers work day and night. Convoys move along exposed roads. And rumors swirl that insurgent saboteurs may strike where the hammer is still raised.

Your task is to protect the buildsite, assist the effort, and bond with the people you’ve come to defend. Share a fire. Train the next generation. Let them see what it means to wear iron—not as conquerors, but as kin.​

Social/Hybrid | Construction defense, community building, Mandalorian slice-of-life moments, sparring, and diplomacy encouraged!

OBJECTIVE III: WRITE YOUR LEGEND
Bring Your Own Objective

Ancora is more than its rebels.
It is a world of survivors, poets, artisans, and warriors. Its wilderness runs deep. Its people carry stories older than the stars.

Maybe you’re hunting a smuggler who armed the insurgency.
Maybe you’re seeking lost kin left behind when the Planeshift hit.
Maybe you’re just here to plant a flag, test your mettle, or carve a name.

Whatever your path—make it matter.​

You bring the mission. | Mandalore brings the might!

 

[Sari'la Kandosii]

OBJECTIVE 2 - BREAK THE CHAINS

War never changes

​

Finally, the first active deployment of project Jaeger, renamed as Clan Kandosii was here and it promised to be every bit as brutal as they had been trained to expect. An unknown world, vision fighting over miles of underground tunnels beneath an ancient fortress. Alor Commander Sari'la was brimming with excitement. The anticipation aroused something she had never felt before, deep inside her programming and she was ready.

The representatives of her clan marched in immaculate Imperial formation behind her down the ramp of the large deployment shuttle, four perfect squares of one hundred forty four of her mandalorian soldiers who were lucky enough to be chosen to accompany her. Behing them a trio of AT-ST's followed, ready to help protect the staging area from counter assault. She marched at their head towards the staging area then stood silently as the formation moved and stood forty eight wide and twelve deep. There was a sycronised stomp as everyone stood to attention and Sari'la waited a few seconds in silence before speaking. The ranks of armour looked like something out of legends.

"Kandosii! This is our first deployment, you have been chosen to represent your brothers and sisters in arms today and the eyes of the Mandalorian Empire are on us. This is not the flag we were bred to fight for but fight we will.

It is said that every mandalorian is worth twenty aruetii soldiers. I say fuck that, let's show them its fifty."

There was a loud noise as every one of them thumped their gauntlet against their armoured chest.

"You have your assignments, the super commandos lead and take the cave entrance we have been tasked onto. Skirmish groups will destroy the two bridges nearby to prevent reinforcement and then once the surface held, then the real fun begins." another massive chest thump.

"Good luck! Advance my vod!" there was a wash as a hundred and forty four skirmishers ignited their jetpacks before breaking into two groups and heading for their bridge objectives. The heavier armed super commandos began to march forward before picking up into a jog and taking off in flights of six towards the cave entrance. It was with these soldiers that Sari'la joined, despite being in skirmisher armour, as the alor she wished to place herself on the hottest objective.

The remaining two blocks would deploy once the cave entrance had been taken. As she flew, surrounded by the men and women of her clan, she left her ship behind and had a moment to feel the sense of pride, battle lust and something else swelling inside her. She was ready.

 

[Incitrix]

TAG: Aether Verd

Incitrix would have relished the chance to rain devastation down from orbit—strategic bombing, precision strikes, orbital firepower. That was her element, and few wielded it better. But this was not one of those times. Mand’alor had demanded precision, not destruction, and she would follow his will without hesitation.

Ancora.

A world poised at the precipice of liberation. Its chains were nearly broken, but the final blow had to be clean—surgical. Beneath the enemy fortress, a labyrinth of tunnels twisted through the earth, carved by time and resistance alike. That was where Incitrix would strike. Not with fire from above, but with cold, calculated action below.

She wasn’t a Nite Owl, nor did she pretend to be. But her skills in infiltration and battlefield leadership were nothing to scoff at. Competence had earned her place here, and she intended to make that clear with every step. She had taken it upon herself to begin purging the fortress's underbelly—seizing the tunnels meant severing escape routes, cutting reinforcements off at the root, and paving the way for total domination.

Her strike group approached a previously scouted ingress point, carefully positioned away from the main gates to avoid early detection. As they reached the threshold, she activated the comms in her helmet, the audio crisp and unwavering.

“This is Red Wraith of Choruk Squad. Entering L-9 tunnel for cleansing and securement.”

Her voice carried with it a sense of unshakable purpose. It was controlled, composed, and resolute. Emotions did not cloud it; only certainty remained. A handful of Mandalorian Knights and armored warriors flanked her, weapons at the ready. Her double-bladed lightsaber, though still unignited, was held firm in her grasp. Her signal operator remained close—communication would be vital in these confined, twisting corridors.

Incitrix had no intention of letting any of her warriors fall. These tunnels would be scoured, and the enemy routed. Not with overwhelming force, but with precision, discipline, and the quiet wrath of an assassin.

​

 

[Manti Wyrvhor]

Location: In orbit of Gres, outermost planet of the Nico-Ni System
Objective: Find Smugglers, Suppress Rebel Supply Lines
Alert Level: Green: No Threat

Manti's eyes glare through the front viewport of the Honor of Iron as the Crusader-class Corvette enters into a stable orbit around the small gas giant Gres. It was frustrating how much work it would be to find the smugglers, but she had no room to complain. Afterall, she did volunteer. Manti knew smugglers, her clan had worked with hundreds of them before she took leadership, back when Clan Wyrvhor took whatever job would pay. The jumble of nineteen moons orbiting this little gas giant act as the perfect hiding spot for illicit activities and the covette's scanners found it difficult to scan an orbital body, even as small as these, without directly orbiting them. It would be a long couple of hours before she found the base, though probably abandoned, and blast it from the face of the galaxy.

"Report." she commands as the preliminary scans of the gas giant finishes.

"Nothing out of the ordinary alor'ad" her chief communications officer barks back.

"Move to the innermost moon."

She would shift, turning to walk further into the ship's interior as the bridge crew complied. It had been some time since she had taken control of such a small craft, but she doubted the smugglers had anything larger than a few shuttles and her flotilla of three Crusader-class Corvettes would be more than enough to make them think twice about supplying the rebels on Ancora's surface. It is going to be a boring couple of hours. Though, this would be more entertaining than sitting in any of the vessels orbitting Ancora whose only real use was intimidation and the occasional orbital bombardment. Though even the latter use would be rare, tunnel fighting rarely called for orbital assistance; too dangerous.

As she arrived in the port gunnery deck the crews of each of the gun emplacements would stand to attention, to which she'd dismiss with a simple wave of the hand allowing them to go back to their work; playing cards and waiting for the action. It was gratifying, she realized as she subconsciously dragged her fingers along the inner wall of the vessel, to experience the fruit of her labor. This corvette, its guns, walls, systems, all of it was made by Mandal Hypernautics: her company. Technically Clan Wyrvhor's company, the shares she possesses going to the next Clan head when she is buried. But it was hers. Certainly she didn't make the vessel itself, but sat in every meeting of the engineers and had pointed them in the right direction. She had watched the first few models be assembled over Mandalore, had watched the first live-fire tests, and had even been given the first model of the Crusader-class line.

As she marched past the gunnery deck it dawned on her how small the Honor of Iron truely was. A casket of durasteel seperating her from the void. One so easily-

"Alor'ad, unknown vessel fleeing innermost moon. Should we pursue?" her chief communications officer buzzed through the intercom on her helmet.

"Begin the hunt. Tell the rest of the flotilla to continue the search."

She would swivel and begin walking back to the bridge as the lights throughout the ship shifted from their normal tones to a soft orange, the HUD of her helmet compensating for the dimmed lighting.

Alert Level: Orange​

 

[Secret of Manda]

​

Location: Nico-ni Natural Satellite [Moon] I (Alpha)

The Vessel Silhouette did not match any in galactic database for it had not be constructed by any registered, galactic entity. Sensors would detect the hull was made of solid Impervium, and appears to possess at least two torpedo tubes and weapon emitters -- the exact nature of the weapons platform could not be determined while unpowered due to their non-standard design. Being only twenty-four meters in length and fourteen meters wide most assessments would likely classify it as some sort of short-range or patrol craft. Its current speed was roughly on par with a typical transport or patrol craft of some kind as well; it wasn't moving particular fast, but it was certainly headed somewhere at speed.

Trajectory analysis seemed to indicate the craft was headed in the direction of one of the other, larger moons higher in orbit over the planet. The other natural satellite possessed a dense, iron core that might pose issues for standard, localized sensor arrays.

The second there was tone on target, however, the craft's speed would increase dramatically. Its course didn't change, but it put in the burn to get there while the corvette sought to close the distance -- and would likely struggle to do so.

Manti Wyrvhor ​

 

[Manti Wyrvhor]

Location: Leaving the orbit of Gres in pursuit of alien craft
Objective: Find Smugglers, Suppress Rebel Supply Lines, Identify Mystery Ship
Alert Level: Orange: Potential Threat

Manti would stride past the gunnery crews who, with the precision of well oiled machine, prepared their stations for potential combat. Arriving at the bridge she would lean over the shoulder of her communications officer, taking in the sight of the strange vessel before connecting her helmet's coms to the inter-ship communicator.

"This is Manti Wyrvhor of the Oath of Iron. We are in pursuit of a shuttle of unknown make and origin, sending scan data now." she'd report to whomever was controlling the fleet above Ancora while giving a commanding nod to her communications officer who would begin the transfer of data to the fleet.

After the data is sent, Manti changes channels as she addresses the unknown shuttle directly "This is the alor'ad of the Oath of Iron, I speak with the authority of the Mandalorian Empire. Turn off your engines and prepare to be boarded. Refusal to do so will warrant aggressive force to bring you under compliance. This is your final warning."

She would step away from the communications officer and their station, sitting herself in the captains chair in the center of the room. Reflexively she glances about the room, assuring each of her officers are in their correct locations. She would take a second to steel herself, control her breathing, stop her thoughts from racing. She had been expecting something she knew, could plan around, and swiftly deal with. An unknown craft like that came with too many questions, too many possibilities. Odds are a vessel that size lacked hyperdrive capabilities. So it was either fleeing to an installation on one of the moons, or a larger ship.

"Sword of Concordia and Mythosaur's Roar, stand by to assist." she would command, the communications officer diligently sending the message along to the two other Crusader-class Corvettes under Manti's command. They would be needed if this shuttle was fleeing to a much larger ship.

"Prepare torpedoes for first salvo and continue pursuit, I doubt they'll slow down."

Secret of Manda

 

[Secret of Manda]

​

Location: Nico-ni Natural Satellite [Moon] I (Alpha) & IV (Charlie)

Unsurprisingly, the transport being pursued did not in fact turn off their engines. In fact, despite its speed advantage, an encrypted signal was broadcast that was not aimed at the Manti Wyrvhor 's vessel. No doubt an effort made to warn whomever or whatever was on the other side of that moon about the chase.

In fact, as Manti's vessel started to crest the moon as well they'd quickly pick up a recognizable Frigate in close orbit to the satellite. A frigate with its shields up and defense armament armed for what could be a very sudden, very colorful introduction.

At the same time, the Honor of Iron would pick up a broadcast from the frigate that was not encrypted requesting contact. Whether they would receive and acknowledge it before the first weapons exchange, however, remain to be seen.​

 

[Aether Verd]

ANCORA - CAMP LIBERTIA
"No banners. No mercy. Just Iron."​

The wind howled across the cliffs of Ancora.

From his vantage on high, Aether the Iron sat astride his Basilisk War Droid, the machine a silent titan crouched atop a jagged outcropping of stone. Below, the mountain range twisted into ridgelines and ravines—beautiful in their brutality. Smoke trails from the initial assault licked the sky, and the echo of jetpacks thrummed like war drums across the range.

His warriors were already in motion. The first wave had launched, jetting toward their objectives with violent precision. Sari’la and her Kandosii were the tip of the spear—discipline and fury melded into one. Their formation was immaculate, their determination unquestionable. Aether’s visor tracked their advance as the sky lit up with fire from their jetpacks and the booming thunder of their war chant echoed up the cliffs.

His helm tilted slightly.

Pride swelled.

They were born for this.

But the time to strike had not yet come for him. Not until the shadow moved.

His HUD pinged. A transmission cut through the ambient battlefield noise, private and clear:

"Nite Owl Six to Mand’alor. We’ve breached the lower tunnels. HVTs are pinned in the Keep, attempting fallback into the deeper tunnels. Internal cohesion is low. Their chain of command is buckling. If we strike now, we can sever it completely."

Aether’s jaw tightened behind the helm. Perfect.

“Copy. Hold the pressure below,” he said, voice like distant thunder. “Collapse every exit they think they have. The head of the snake is in the Keep. We’ll cut it off—and let the rest die grasping for air.”

He switched channels, relaying across the full strike net.

“All tunnel teams—maintain pressure. Do not let the High Value Targets escape. Fortress units—prioritize breaching the Keep. We break the spine today, not tomorrow.”

As he closed the line, the Basilisk’s eyes lit red. Aether stood high in the saddle, cloak snapping behind him as the fortress below roared to life.

Automated turrets unfolded from the ramparts, unleashing rocket salvos and blast cannon fire that scorched the skies around Sari’la’s vanguard. Insurgent riflemen lined the walls, cutting loose in desperate volleys that lit the air like a red storm. Armor cracked. Stone shattered. Blood met steel in the snow. They would not go unpunished.

His Basilisk roared, engines igniting in a cascade of fury. Aether guided the beast with the ease of a born rider, locking onto a battery of guns at the northeastern wall. “Target lock. Fire.”

A spread of concussive rockets surged from the Basilisk’s mouth, screaming through the air before crashing into the defenses. The wall exploded outward in a violent bloom of flame and debris, sending insurgents tumbling like dolls.

With no further words, the Iron Mand’alor dove into the storm, Basilisk shrieking a war cry of its own.

The siege was no longer beginning. It was being decided.

Incitrix , Sari'la Kandosii + Open

 

[Ro'talius Emanti]

​

TAG: Aether Verd / Sari'la Kandosii / Incitrix

TK-373 found himself at a mental crossroads.

That uneasy churn in the gut. A common to anyone facing combat for the first time had refused to subside. Yet this was different. It wasn’t just his first true battle. It was the first time he fought with his people. His grandparents would have been overjoyed to know he had joined their distant kin in arms. This was the moment he had long awaited, a chance to prove that he was more than a disgraced trooper. Though the shame of his family’s past was not of his own making, he still bore it like a weight around his shoulders. This mission, this war, might offer the penance needed to cleanse the Dar'manda stain from his bloodline.

The Iron accepted all who swore the oaths. He had passed the trials, but the weight of the title Mandalorian—that was something else entirely. In this culture, actions outweighed declarations. Among the warriors he now stood beside, only deeds could speak for him. His callsign for this operation was “Nite Owl 14”—a title he intended to live up to. While others dove into the underground tunnels, his squad had a different task. Stationed outside the gates, they were assigned to hunt VIP targets within the fortress. If they could drive their quarry into the collapsing subterranean passages, the tunnel teams could finish the job.

He checked his gear again beneath the black poncho draped over his standard Sith trooper armor. The armor felt out of place here, foreign even, but he wore it with pride. He had earned the right. Each piece he found of his equipment was secure, the backpack fitted tight, the weight evenly distributed. Now, all he could do was wait for the signal to strike.

Then came the words of the Mand’alor. He watched, awestruck, as the wall collapsed with a thunderous roar and the Warhost surged forward like a tidal wave. Something primal took hold of him. His body moved before his mind could catch up. His grip tightened around the blaster rifle, and with his squad of Night Owls at his side, he stormed through the breach in tight formation.

Their first target was believed to be holed up in a bar deep within the compound. Step by step, the Great Heathen Army covered their advance. Iron and fire at their backs, and vengeance in their blood.

​

 

[Manti Wyrvhor]

Location: Entering orbit of Nico-ni Natural Satellite IV [Charlie]
Objective: Find Smugglers, Suppress Rebel Supply Lines, Identify Mystery Ships
Alert Level: Orange: Potential Threat

As the Oath of Iron crests the planet Manti's eyes would widen behind her visor as the Frigate came into view. Many said expecting the unexpected means you were never surprised, something Manti herself believed even if she never said it, that belief was starting to get shaken.

"Signal the Sword of Concordia and Mythosaur's Roar to abandon current objectives and cruise to support us, full burn-" she commands, her communications officer dutifully relaying the message as Manti swivels to focus on her Armaments Officer

"Bring all weapon systems online, and shunt fifty percent of shield's power to forward-facing shields-" She would get a confirmation from her Armaments Officer just as the communications officer would swivel to relay the confirmation of the two other corvettes

"Send me everything you have on that frigate-" she commands as other members of the bridge crew begin building a profile of the vessel from initial scans "Come to a full stop and-" the ship would begin to slow, standing idle in the void as the Communications Officer would speak up

"Frigate is attempting contact, what are your orders alor'ad?"

"Open communications-" she would pause only a second, letting the communications officer run the necessary checks for any attempts to slice into their computers while using the communication as a front before she would address the mystery frigate "This is the alor'ad of the Oath of Iron, I speak with the authority of the Mandalorian Empire. You have entered Mandalorian space without authorization, what is your purpose?" She doubted she'd get a straight answer, but at the very least she could buy time until the rest of the flotilla arrived.

Secret of Manda

 

[Verity Suun]

Ally: None | Hostile: None | Engaging: None
Location: Natural Satellite [Moon] IV
Vessel: Frigate | Transport
Posture: Shields Online, Weapons Charged, No Squadrons Launched
One Target Designated, Communication Sent, Station Keeping

​

Until recently, Admiral Suun had been overseeing the gathering efforts of the crew. Officially, she was there in an observational capacity. After they'd acquired this frigate for its Isotope-5 and other galactic innovations for study, she'd assigned it a commanding officer and crew to tend to it. There was no need for them to destroy a space-worthy craft while her engineering personnel studied it. It afforded them additional tactical options.

Once they'd pacified a pirate outpost, the crew had been busy relieving them of their ill-gotten materials. It was then that handing over operations to the frigate and his crew became the focus of the operation. An opportunity for them to use the ship in a real-world scenario. Something small to get their feet wet with how it functioned, what its limitations were at low-speeds, and if there was anything it was lacking they needed to acquire.

Then the signal came. The last transport that was headed back had been spotted by an unknown vessel. By the time the knights responsible for researching matters using the "holonet" came back with information, the transport had essentially confirmed as much. The other vessel identified itself as part of the Mandalorian Empire's Oath of Iron.

Mandalorians? They'd picked up an increase in ship activity in the area, but to think the Mandalorian fleet had taken position...

Their transport had the speed advantage, so Stars be Praised they returned safely within the exclusion zone of the frigate. Just in time for the corvette pursuing them to crest around the moon and the two ships enter visual range of one another. It wasn't part of the intended training exercise, but this would serve just as well; Suun observed the crew's reaction to positioning themselves to respond to this 'crisis.'

Suun was concerned for the crew, but also thankful the Aether wasn't there. The entire Mandalorian fleet would likely have been called in with such a massive vessel on scopes. Then again, it seemed unlikely he would have gone unnoticed for as long. At least the other ship's Captain wouldn't be unduly intimidated. Much as the Imperium did enjoy using shock and awe to their advantage, being out here in the heart of the galaxy that seemed to result in a shooting war almost every time. Surprising how fearless these people could be.

When the Oath of Iron responded back, the Admiral stepped forward to handle the exchange while the Captain could focus on the battlefield. Especially in the event more ships appeared -- and hopefully not so many the Aether would drop in to support them resulting in countless casualties. "This is the Semper Ad Astra," of course they renamed the ship, it was theirs now, "Coronus, Admiral Verity Suun of the Astrorum Imperium commanding. We are taking materials from criminals to aid in locating the enemies of the Aeternum, may their light shine eternal." The system had invited the Mandalorians to take control of their space? How long had they been in such discussions? "Is your Mand'alor in orbit? We could discuss an exchange." Fortunately her grasp of Galactic Basic had improved over time, but it still wasn't as polished as she would have liked.

Manti Wyrvhor
The Secret of Manda over Ancora is you've been chasing an Imperium vessel!​

 

[Ladante Mamba]

​

Operation: Black Tide

On approach to the fortress, Ladante looked up to the sky as the Great Heathen Army bared down upon the fortress. His visor lit up with information as the attack commenced. The main force hit them head on, while Ladante followed a squad into the tunnels beneath the fortress. Knights and warriors marched together, Ladante moving through the squad to the front to the Knight at the front.

"Rules of engagement, Field Marshal?" Ladante questioned. He wore his beskar, adorned with a sash of emerald across the chest. He wielded his MW-20, ready to fire on the first target in sight. The booms of battle echoed across the mountains. Ladante had hoped the other Life-bearers made it to their assignments. Most had checked in by now, but a few had still been radio silent.

Incitrix | Aether Verd | Sari'la Kandosii | Ro'talius Emanti
​

​

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

| Location | Ancora, Outer Rim
| Objective | Break the Chains

Ancient mountains grumbled under the feet of countless soldiers, a deep hiss of fury carried by the wind, displeased with the unwelcome presence of outsiders, another burden for a world that knew the pain so recently. It cared not for the people nestled amongst its canyons and crevices, a shelter stolen, their words unheeded by stone and structure older than the ideals they spoused.

Democracy was an old idea, but the liberators, as they called themselves, were not quite so old. Their message of choices and power wielded by the many spread across the stars, with as many interpretations as there were planets. Itzhal could not say which was better; in truth, he'd seen greatness under the power of a strong leader, the Mand'alor he'd served so long ago, with a vision and strength to pilot his people to greater heights than those who'd come before. Even then, the dream had ended in turbolasers and burning skies. Those that had followed were a long list of rare successes and even more common failures.

As for this new figure, Mand'alor the Iron, Itzhal could not say what others would think of his reign. All he knew was what he'd experienced, the whispers ignored for now, tales and legends faced with the scepticism they deserved. The defence of Ketaris had garnered his interest, so unlike the stories of their Crusader-kin, a promise of hope and deliverance of vengeance rather than a relentless rampage across worlds unprepared and undeserving of their might. He knew not if their people would progress across similar lines, in many ways, Ancora was a crucible.

A test of what this Mandalorian Empire would become, where the line would be decided, what honour meant in this society. He knew there was some here who still espoused the crusaders' way, their history acknowledged rather than erased, another attempt at unification as important as all of those that had come before. Itzhal would not deny their importance and the strength to rally so many warriors upon a single creed, disjointed as their people were. It didn't mean he had to like their more heinous deeds. The past was valuable, lessons written in blood and sweat, but only fools did not desire something better than what came before.

The New Mandalorians had learned that lesson, an adaptation of their forebearers' desires of peace, tempered with the knowledge that one could not simply hope for others to follow in turn. It still amused him in some ways to see how they'd adapted, from tales of Auretii unworthy of a name stolen and a culture dismissed, to the defenders of peace they had become under the Duchess's name. The oath he'd sworn to those who would look upon a galaxy in turmoil and wish for something better, vods by choice rather than blood.

It had been a choice to follow this new Mand'alor, one he doubted many of his people would agree upon—hollow promises from past wielders of a title with more claimants than deeds. Yet, Itzhal could not deny the curiosity that had brought him here. An observer of the fates and whatever might come next, whether order or chaos.

As the assault began, Itzhal's gaze travelled across the field of battle; death and survival reflected in the emotionless visage of his black visor.

Tags: Aether Verd Sari'la Kandosii Incitrix Ro'talius Emanti Ladante Mamba​

 

[Hanna]

Location: Camp Libertia, Mountain Ranges - Ancora
Thread Objective: I - Break the Chains
Mission Objective: Secure the fortress.
Tag: Sari'la Kandosii Incitrix Aether Verd Ro'talius Emanti Ladante Mamba Itzhal Volkihar

The Warhost surged towards the fortress at the Mand’alor’s command, his Basilisk soaring overhead before unleashing rockets into insurgent positions along the fortress’ walls. They struck like falling stars, detonations ripping through insurgent positions in geysers of fire and shattered stone. Bodies—some still twitching—were hurled through the air, their broken forms cratering the earth inside and outside the crumbling defenses.

Under the cover of the barrage, Hanna zipped ahead, repulsorlift skates carrying her along the fortress’ perimeter at blistering speed while her Verpine shatter pistols spat electromagnetically accelerated slugs in staccato fury. A pair of blaster cannon gunners were cut down in quick succession, red mist erupting from their necks as hypervelocity slugs tore through their flesh, hydrostatic shockwaves detonating inside to decapitate the gunners outright.

“Blaster cannon in section Dorn neutralized!” Hanna snarled, bloodlust rising to the fore. The Qilin pressed on, before shifting her weight low as she pivoted into a tight turn, repulsors whining. They howled, and Hanna was back on the throttle, ascending a rock face with violent acceleration.

The rock face rushed past as she shot upward, momentum cresting into a lethal arc. For one weightless moment, she hung suspended above the battlefield.

Then, her pistols spoke.

A insurgent squad disintegrated under the barrage as Hanna landed on the walls, their bodies unraveling in grisly slow motion: armor splintered, limbs separated at the joints, and torsos erupted in fist-sized voids. Five died before they could scream; the remaining four reeled, dumbstruck by the violence.

Only for Hanna’s second volley to erase them too.

“Wall section Dorn secure!” Hanna growled. Blood pounded in her ears as she scanned the carnage. Satisfied that the immediate area was clear of threats, the Qilin glanced towards the advancing Warhost, which was still exchanging fire with the insurgents.

With a sharp breath, Hanna skated ahead, intent upon sweeping the walls to facilitate the Warhost’s advance.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Sparkle Velocity
  
  • Gauntlets and Vambraces
    
    • Modular Weapon Mount (3) - R
      
      • PC-05V Plasma Caster
        
        • Ammunition
          
          • Medium Plasma Gas Canister
      • NML-02VTB Nano Missile Launcher
        
        • Ammunition
          
          • Depleted Baradium-tipped Baradium Nano Missiles (12)
    • Modular Weapon Mount (3) - L
      
      • IceJet Miniaturized CryoBan Projector
        
        • Ammunition
          
          • CryoBan Canister
      • Repulsor Projector
• Hanna’s HB-42 Disruptor Pistols (2)
  
  • Ammunition
    
    • FAE/AM-01-S2 Energy Weapon Cartridge - Ethaerium X Gas and CryoBan Coolant (4)
    • FAE/AM-01-S2 Energy Weapon Cartridge - Ethaerium Gas and CryoBan Coolant (8)
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
• Glitter Roses (2)
  
  • Ammunition
    
    • Extended Magazine - Standard Penetrator (6)
    • Standard Magazine - Seismic Implosive-Explosive (2)
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
• FAE/MDE-01-S2 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (2)
• Infrared Smoke Grenade (2)

 

[Manti Wyrvhor]

Location: Orbit of Nico-ni Natural Satellite IV [Charlie]
Objective: Find Smugglers, Suppress Rebel Supply Lines, Identify Mystery Ships
Alert Level: Orange: Potential Threat

The rhythmic tapping of Manti's gauntleted fingers was the only sound that accompanied the Semper Ad Astra's message. Each drum of a finger against the arm rest of the captain's chair helped her think, helped add a tactile element to her racing thoughts. What exactly was the goal in this situation? One could argue the taking of any materials in Mandalorian space, even those from pirates, was theft. On the other hand, odds are these pirates are the very smugglers Manti had been tasked with dealing with and these strangers had saved the Mandalorian Empire time and resources in already dealing with them.

Slowly Manti would stand, the tufts of fur decorating her helmet brushing against the cramped interior of the bridge.

"Astorum Imperium. What do we know of them?" she would command, glancing to each of her bridge officers for any indication of knowledge. When it was clear the room would remain silent, an eerie sign Manti certainly didn't appreciate, she would stare intensely at the frigate.

"How far out are the Blade of Concordia and Mythosaur's Roar from meeting up with us?"

"Only a few minutes sir." would come the quick response, an effort to prevent the unnerving silence from returning.

"Good." she'd wave absently towards her communications officer, who would connect Manti to the communications array again as Manti would address Verity Suun

"The Mand'alor's location is unimportant-" there was no reason to give away more information than was needed, afterall if the Astorum Imperium was to be an enemy there would be no point in giving them the whereabouts of the Mand'alor for them to send assassins. "What has brought you to this system? We are unaware of any power calling itself the Astorum Imperium operating in this region of space. If you were chasing these pirates to this system it must have been from lightyears away."

 

[Domina Prime]

​

"I Was Once Girl Who Dreamed of Fields of Fire & Flowers~"

Aether Verd | Itzhal Volkihar | Ladante Mamba | Ro'talius Emanti | Incitrix | Sari'la Kandosii
​

The tunnel stank of ozone, metal, and blood.

Blaster fire roared through the choking haze like lightning in a war god's throat, striking walls, barricades, and armor with a relentless staccato. Sparks danced off stone and steel. Smoke curled like snakes through the cracks of the broken corridor. Mandalorians crouched behind debris—pinned down, boxed in. Every attempt to push forward was met with a volley so brutal it sent limbs flying and warriors screaming back behind the ruins of cover.

At the mouth of this killing corridor, a fortress loomed. Its walls, ribbed with plating and snarling with auto-turrets, stood firm against wave after wave of assault. Energy shields shimmered like curtains of war, hiding the faces of the defenders who crouched behind them. The defenders were disciplined, well-armed, and entrenched.

But none of that mattered.

Because Prime hungered for carnage.

From the rear of the formation, the Iron Maiden stood amidst the chaos like a statue of violence incarnate. Four arms moved in eerie synchronicity, each loading a fresh magazine of slugs into a different firearm—rifles, sidearms, an autogun, even an ancient scattercannon. Her armor gleamed with scorched beskar, and her massive, bladed tail flicked in anticipation.

Her teeth chittered behind her helm in amusement. She peered around the edge of broken ferrocrete and spotted them: dug-in bastards hiding behind blast shields and shimmering energy barriers, taking potshots at her kin like it was a firing range.

Domina grinned.

"Ha'rangir! It is a GOOD DAY to FUCK SHIT UP!"

With a snap of her wrist, a massive beskar shield unfolded from her gauntlet like the jaw of a beast unhinging. She slammed it against the ground, sparks flying from the impact, and rose from cover just as the rest of the squad started screaming for more ammo.

"Hold the line!" she bellowed, stomping forward like a war engine.

Blaster bolts screamed toward her, slamming into the shield in a furious cascade of light and force—but she did not stop. Step by step, she advanced into the hailstorm, her upper arms squeezing triggers while the lower ones steadied the shield. Slug rounds howled down the corridor, punching into the shield walls, forcing defenders back into deeper cover.

"Steady, and, forward! ON PRIME!"

A pistol clicked empty. She tossed it without ceremony and reached back mid-stride, snatching a massive repeating blaster from a startled Mandalorian.

"Gimme this fuckin' thing!"

Hoisting the heavy weapon with her lower limbs, she unleashed a hellstorm—rounds slamming into the barrier, the barrels spinning red-hot. Smoke poured from the weapon. Her shield caught fire from the intensity of return fire, but still she advanced, forcing the push, dragging the line forward with every step like a beast dragging a mountain.

And yet…
Not. One. Shot. Landed.

To her fellow Mandos, it was like watching a god walk forward while blindfolded. Her rounds sprayed beautifully, artfully even—but not a single one hit anything meaningful. Still, morale surged. She was the frontline, and where she walked, the line moved.

When she reached the shield wall, she made it personal.

The LMG ran dry. She roared, lifting it overhead and hurling it like a club, the weapon slamming into the helmet of a soldier with a crunch that sent him spiraling.

Now the real fun began.

With a sudden shriek of metal, her shield shifted aside—and Domina exploded into motion.

She danced into their line like a vengeful ghost, her talons sweeping low. One soldier's legs were ripped out from under him as her tail coiled around his ankle and whipped him into a crowd, scattering the line like bowling pins. A blaster clattered uselessly to the floor. Another poor soul lunged with a vibrodagger—only for Domina to stomp on his foot, snap his wrist with one clawed hand, and seize the dagger mid-spin.

In a single fluid motion, she threw it into the visor of a retreating soldier—ping! The body crumpled mid-run.

The hallway became a slaughterhouse.

Domina's shield turned into a battering ram, crushing armor and ribs alike as she slammed it into chest plates, into faces, into walls. She hissed and howled with glee, carving through weapons with her claws, ripping the guts from the defensive line with mad, methodical cruelty.

"Peek-a-boo!" she shrieked, voice dripping with feral joy as she suddenly appeared in the face of her prey. "Gods, you're all sweet like fucking candy! Can't tell if you're WATERED DOWN or fucking SUGAR COATED!"

Her laughter echoed down the corridor as her four arms tangled with yet another assailant—locking, twisting, snapping bones like dried twigs before she flung the broken form into a turret socket and watched it spark and die.

The other Mandalorians surged behind her now—rallied, inspired, terrified of being left behind in her rampage. They poured through the breach she'd carved with body and blood, weapons blazing, pushing the line deeper and deeper into the heart of the fortress.

Behind them, bodies lay strewn—burned, broken, battered.

Ahead of them, the prize loomed ever closer. The fortress would fall. It had no choice.

Because The Iron Maiden was the front line.

And where Prime stood… was where the line was drawn.

 

[Sari'la Kandosii]

OBJECTIVE 2 - BREAK THE CHAINS

Tags: Aether Verd . Itzhal Volkihar Ladante Mamba Ro'talius Emanti Incitrix . Hanna Domina Prime​

The Kandosii warriors blended the best parts of both Imperial and Mandalorian battle doctrine and were able to quickly switch tactics as the battlefield developed. The two bridges were quickly secured and destroyed, that was the easy part, the centre where she needed to enter the tunnels took a little bit more fighting to resolve.

At that underground portal disciplined fire from machine guns wielding supercommandos pinned down the defenders while other supercommanders, and their alor, were able to flank and use beskad and fire to take the enemy up close and personal. The battle was ferocious, Sari'la felt blood pumping through her finely tuned and capable body, carving through a lightly armoured defender even as he reached for a reload pack. The fight had not been without blood but medic units were trained to extract the wounded the moment there was an opening made for them, it was glorious, the flash training was doing wonders and would only improve as they got more experience on a real battlefield.

Finally, the grounds were there and a demolition team moved quickly to remove the obstacle of three large metal doors that separated them from full ingress. "This is Commander Sari'la, division two has captured point Charlie. Division three please launch to support and four advance to one klik as reserve." she ended her comm just as a trio of bright plasma explosions detonated. The mandalorians were prepared for the fusillade of gunfire that answered the breach and fire teams began taking out defenders cowering at the back of the atrium hangar with ruthless efficiency. Smoke rounds helped the Mandalorians balance the odds attacking the defended position until finally, they were in. There were at least four tunnels leading off of this large cavernous space, each of which descended into the burrow and then turned into tunnels of various levels of engineering, front natural river tunnels to well-prepared and blast door studded corridors.

Sari'la allowed herself a breather if only to wipe the blood off her sword and the burned oil off the back of her flamer thrower gauntlet.

 

[Verity Suun]

Ally: None | Hostile: None | Engaging: None
Location: Natural Satellite [Moon] IV
Vessel: Frigate | Transport
Posture: Shields Online, Weapons Charged, No Squadrons Launched
One Target Designated, Communication Sent, Station Keeping

​

"The Astorum Imperium does not claim this space or any near it," Suun replied honestly. "It has sent us to these stars, far from home, to find which faction, planet, or government is supplying our enemies... and stop them." She'd declassified as much and the crew was used to her speaking of it aloud because they needed the outsiders to help them. They would be useless toward that goal if they had no idea what the Aether sought. What did remain classified was the location of the Imperium itself. No one wanted further encroachment by outsiders.

"Pirates. Yes, we found them here when we entered the system." How long had the Mandlorians claimed this space? "There was no time to contact the planet. You are not ally to them." At least that was her hope. If the Mandlorians actually were allied with them, or the government below was, then this could turn out to be quite the messy diplomatic situation. Suun yearned for the days back home when she needn't be diplomatic.

Off to one side, the Sensor Technician announced, "Ten contacts bearing one ten nota one sixty two. Short range attack vessels."

While the Captain monitored the situation, Suun turned back to the transmitter. "Alor, are those your fighters on approach?"

Manti Wyrvhor

 

[Manti Wyrvhor]

Location: Orbit of Nico-ni Natural Satellite IV [Charlie]
Objective: Find Smugglers, Suppress Rebel Supply Lines, Identify Mystery Ships
Alert Level: Orange: Potential Threat

As Verity Suun explained the situation of her people and their quest for knowledge Manti was sure every word was recorded and sent back to the Mandalorian fleet in orbit around Ancora. She was not privy to the goings on of every aspect of the Mandalorian Empire's warmachine. This could prove to be beneficial to the Wardenate, a potential ally or even subject who might willingly bow to Mandalorian demands to gain protection. Or this would be crucial intelligence to the Nite Owls encase the Mandalorian Empire was the arms dealer in this woman's war. Regardless, Manti listened with eager ears.

A brief clan to the side informed her that her two support vessels were almost upon them. Needed back up for what she had planned. More information was needed regarding this Astorum Imperium, information she most likely wouldn't receive through simple communication. However, as she would lean in to respond to the woman she'd hear the foreign commander's voice again followed shortly after by her communications officer

"Alor'ad, ten unknown fighter craft bearing down on our position. What are your orders?"

"Bring us about to face them." was her first instinctual command. This was either pirates, smugglers, or whomever was picking fights with these foreigners. Regardless, if they fired on both of them it could maybe build some trust.

"We do not recognize these fighters. Are these the enemy you spoke of?" she proded hoping to gain more information, some intelligence she could send to the higher ups.

"If they open fire on you within Mandalorian space I'm obligated to assist." She said this as if she herself wasn't worried about what the frigate could do to her. Odds are this frigate wouldn't need help against a couple of fighters, but projecting confidence was key.

 

[Aether Verd]

ANCORA
"Press forward. For Ancora. For Mandalore!"​

The fortress screamed beneath the fury of the Mandalorian onslaught.

Smoke still clung to the fractured walls of Section Dorn, where Hanna's assault had torn through insurgent defenses like a razor through silk. Aether’s Basilisk shrieked as it descended from the upper cliffs, landing with a seismic crash upon the battlements. Rubble scattered from the impact, and defenders scrambled to reestablish position—only to be met with the wrath of Mand'alor the Iron himself.

He moved like a force of nature, his rifle barking thunder as each shot drove enemies into cover or over the edge of the wall. The Iron was not a spearhead now—but a shield. His arrival stabilized the front, allowing Mandalorians still climbing the wall to crest the ramparts with cover fire at their backs.

“Hanna,” Aether called over the comm, voice calm despite the chaos, “Section Dorn is ours thanks to your efficiency. Reinforcements are en route to expand the breach. Hold position. We'll turn this wall into a gate.”

He turned, lining up another shot, the concussive report of his rifle folding an insurgent sniper into the stone like a broken marionette.

Then, his comm received an update and Aether switched channels. There was no hesitation in his tone—only pride, edged with caution.

“Commander Sari’la. Excellent work securing Point Charlie. Division two’s gains are being felt across the ridge. But I’m getting chatter of mines and auto-turrets deeper in. Proceed with caution. Let the mountain bleed, not our kin.”

He switched back to open comms, raising his rifle again. Another shot, another defender down.

The Warhost pressed forward. The fortress would fall. Not because of overwhelming force—but because Iron does not yield. It simply cuts deeper.

***​

TUNNELS - RO'TALIUS' POSITION

On a private channel, a Field Marshal's voice crackled through Ro'talius’ headset:

"Nite Owl Fourteen, be advised. Resistance ahead. Automated emplacements and pressure mines scattered along your vector. Watch your step, soldier. The Keep doesn’t give second chances."

Flashes of turret fire lanced the shadows ahead. Ro’talius would need to adjust—use his head and eyes more than his trigger finger. The Mandalorian path was carved in blood, but the unworthy bled alone.

***​

TUNNELS - LADANTE'S POSITION

A reply cut clean through the tunnel chatter as Ladante’s question echoed down the passage.

"Field Marshal Adres here. Orders are clear. Be a scalpel, not a hammer. The HVTs are slippery bastards—flush them too fast and they vanish down a tunnel we can’t follow. Be precise. Be quiet. Be deadly."

The air in the tunnel thickened, charged with tension. There would be no room for recklessness here.

***​

REARGUARD - ITZHAL'S POSITION

The low hum of distant battle echoed off the stone, a heartbeat beneath the chaos.

A voice broke the quiet—low, steady, and close.

“Funny kind of silence, isn’t it? Right before the sky falls.”

A younger Mandalorian stepped up beside Itzhal, his armor dulled by dust and shrapnel scars. He didn’t look over, just watched the battlefield unfold below with a slow, measured breath.

“We’ll probably get called in soon. Heard the eastern flank is encountering a lot of resistance.” He gave a thumbs up before checking his gear over. "I'll watch your back, you watch mine?"

***​

TUNNELS - DOMINA'S POSITION

In the middle of the corridor-turned-slaughterhouse, Domina’s rampage was momentarily interrupted by a priority channel buzz.

“Iron Maiden, this is Field Marshal Adres. Ro’talius and the Nite Owls are breaching toward your west vector—sounded like an explosion over comms. Divert and reinforce. If they’re cut off, the whole push to the Keep might stall.”

The air reeked of scorched flesh and ozone. Domina wouldn’t miss the scent of fresh chaos.

Ro'talius Emanti , Ladante Mamba , Itzhal Volkihar , Hanna , Domina Prime , Sari'la Kandosii