Skirmish The Brawl on Abregado-rae | TSC vs. COV

[Carduul Akahl]

Tags: Canm-Bulnu Bi

The flame was diverted with the same wall of water in a sudden redirection, though at least some of his shots managed to go through. Once the water surged forward, the gout of flame was expelled, the mist showering between in another obscuration of vision. One that would not last long.

There was naught but instinct to act upon, and so he did as his senses always led.

The final shots loosed, though as soon as they were finished the rifle had been shouldered to instead grasp his favored weapon- the poleaxe. He knew; if his opponent managed to dodge those closer shots- which was likely- that there was little choice but to do this the old-fashioned way.

T’was his preferred method, after all.

He had leapt downwards from the pipework above, a downwards cleave arcing in a blow that would’ve landed near the shoulder if not averted. The landing would’ve been a touch awkward, but this pipe was wide enough for a decent enough stature. Whether he missed or was redirected, he had curved the polearm’s swing just enough so that it wouldn’t lodge itself into the pipe at their feet, not wishing to risk being sent to the murky depths below. It was then held towards his foe in a simple, effective grasp, his footing adjusting with a slide of boots against rusted metal. This would be a delicate battleground- not wholly familiar to him, but there was little choice.

“...Another comes seeking to try their hand against mine. Regrettable, then, that you’re no doubt one of their ilk from the shadows—I shall have to enjoy killing you.”

 

[Calyx Sundrift]

Yuri Maji​

The Mandalorian came for him now, hurling a storm of golden plasma. But his saber was waiting, a fan of red light turned the golden rays aside, each deflection jolting up his arm.

The jetpack roared as the hound banked past him in a tight arc, spraying something outside his field of vision. The cloud hung in the zero-gravity, directly in Calyx's path.

He knew it wasn't a flamethrower. His skin would've blistered already, and he'd have stopped being clever about it. Whatever this was, it drifted quietly, and he had no particular interest in finding out firsthand what would happen should he meet it.

Calyx fought to tame the Dark side. To take that sleetstorm of raw emotion tearing through him and funnel it into precision. He tried lashing himself through the Force, reaching for anything solid that could alter or stop his drift. The ground, a fixture, the walls themselves, anything. His arm swung wide, frustration pouring down through his fingertips, and with effort, he hauled himself sideways toward the bolted slot machines on his right. Narrowly, drifting past the edge of the cloud.

The spray caught his leg anyway as his body swivelled. His skin tingled. His boot hardened. The cold crept up to his knee before it stopped.

Calyx hissed through his teeth. Carbonite.

"Should've told me!" He flashed a mock smile at the Mandalorian's back. "I could've struck a pose!"

He'd lost a leg to it. But a leg was acceptable without gravity pulling at him.

His saber flashed again to deflect another burst. Two bolts turned aside. A third he caught at the right angle and sent humming back toward its owner.

Calyx kept at defense. He didn't need to win this. Winning wasn't the point. He just needed to stay alive and loud long enough for the wondergirls - Arris and her Echani girlfriend - to clear the field.

 

[Canm-Bulnu Bi]

The sound of the last stray blaster bolts slicing through the settling mist concluded with a crackling snap. Canm's hand shifted, and the narrow aqueduct lit up with a bright, red glow as his lightsaber came to life. With two quick flicks of his wrist, he deflected the remaining plasma rounds, sending them hissing into the dark, murky waters below.

He didn't immediately press forward. Instead, Canm raised the crimson blade horizontally before his chest in a deliberate salute. His eyes remained locked on the Mandalorian through the fog. "I shall be glad to cut down a Son of Arasuum for defying the Sith Covenant," Canm said, invoking the name of the Mandalorian Sloth-God to demoralize Carduul Akahl .

As Carduul swung the heavy weapon down, Canm didn't attempt to confront the brute force of the cleave directly. Instead, he used the lightness of his plasma blade, snapping it upward to intercept the haft just below the axe-head. With a quick, deflecting parry, he redirected the weapon's path, causing the metal to miss him entirely.

The first deflection created the opening he required, shifting his weight on the rusted surface, Canm adjusted his stance, tightening his grip as he moved into the aggressive, counter-striking techniques of Form V. He raised his blade into a high, dominant guard, prepared to use the Mandalorian's own momentum against him as the real battle commenced.

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

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

The ram found purchase with nothing, using the force to slow his propulsion in a controlled motion. Without a second thought his grip on the slot machines dropped as his foe spoke to him.

The sound of a blast of energy rocketed into his body, slamming into him and sending him flying back further into the room. A hard slam into the wall did not even push a breath out of him.

His focus was now on the fight, pain was nothing. Blood oozed from the corner of his mouth and dripped to the floor.

His eyes tracked her, then bolts rained his direction and his arms flew forward, not to block himself, but to take hold of the bolts.

One by one before they could touch him, they were now suspended, crackling and pulsing with energy now held in stasis.

Varin's fingers slowly curled into balled fists before the volley of bolts now flung in the direction of his foe.

In that same instant he pushed off the wall, great strength propelling him forward once again towards her, his hand now placed on the hilt of his saber, he drew it.

The blade did not hiss like normal sabers. It roared to life. A fiery plasma-like blade powered not by kyber, but by a fiery erinar diamond.

The blade looked as if it were made by solar flares. The roar slowly graduated to a hum, and as he brought it up rocketing towards her, the blade seemed to grow. A killer intent within his eyes, focused on nothing else but what was in front of him.

A sharp thrust was hurled to her with the elongated blade.

Vara Maji​

 

[Yael Kandar]

BAD WATER
"I jumped into the river, what did I see? Black-eyed angels swam with me."

NOTHING ELSE MATTERS​

ABREGADO-RAE

The beam was narrower than it looked.

She'd noted it without noting it — weight shifting, stance adjusting, the body running its own accord while her mind was somewhere else. It had been somewhere else since Humbarine. It kept going back. Cold beskar under a palm. A hand still reaching toward a door.

There was a door here, too, somewhere down there.

At the far end of the channel, where the maintenance beam terminated at a ledge half-swallowed by waterline, an arch sat in the stone. Old. Older than the spaceport, older than whatever Le Yer had been before it became this. The stonework around its frame was different from the canal walls; tighter-fitted, deliberate, the kind of construction that had been built to last by people who expected to need it to. She couldn't read the mark cut into the keystone from here. Something in her wanted to get close enough to try.

She didn't question that. She just moved toward it. One foot forward, one back, the black water turning slowly underneath. Nothing had moved. Nothing had made a sound she could name.

But there was warmth in the air ahead that the cold didn't account for. Something living. Something that wasn't the canal's particular rot, wasn't the chemical runoff, wasn't the dead-planet smell of water that hadn't seen daylight in decades. Just.. warmth.

Her hands hung loose at her sides, as she passed the beam her mind absent but her body wired like a grizzled war veteran.​

Veyla Tass​

 

[Yuri Maji]

ABREGADO-RAE | TRIPLE NOVA CASINO
ALLIES: COV | Vara Maji | Vren Rook | Siv Dragr
ENEMIES: TSC | Arris Windrun | Quinn Varanin | Calyx Sundrift | Varin Mortifer
ENGAGING: Calyx Sundrift
GEAR: In bio

THEME​

The Hound had the advantage in the moment and he sought to use it. The only break in his onslaught came when he had to reload his pistols but even then he wasn’t out of options. His cryocaster caught the Sith just as he attempted to shift out of the cloud’s path.

Even through the scrubbers of his helmet, Yuri could smell the blood and ozone that hung in the air around them all. This wasn’t one of the Sith’s elite, he didn’t seem to be in control of his power. His pistols were out but the Sith drifted straight into another target. With a tilt of his body, Yuri fired a missile from his jetpack at the Sith’s location.

But his prey wasn’t the target.

The row of slot machines close to the Sith were an ugly hive of shrapnel, glass and credit chits in this lack of gravity. He wanted to maim his target, take him out of the fight but keep him alive for later. Even an acolyte could have some useful information.

His thoughts were unceremoniously disrupted with a blaster bolt sending him reeling back with a grunt. A damn good defense from his enemy. It was easy to forget the type of firepower he and his people levelled against their enemies, he would’ve been toast with lesser armour. The last tibanna cell was slammed home and the Hound raised his pistols with a growl. A flick at the switches turned each pistol into a far more deadly weapon.

He fired again while his jetpack brought him closer. Golden bolts streaked toward the Sith once again, but each bolt hid another one just behind it. One pull, two shots, a dirty play to overwhelm the Sith’s defense and push his senses to the limit.

Bleed him, hurt him, break his fight. Yuri wanted to help Vara or even Vren and Siv, but the little squib remained a big enough threat that he couldn’t ignore.

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Tags: Canm-Bulnu Bi

At last, the weapon he expected to be hidden somewhere on the other’s person had been revealed. The crimson blade the tell-tale sign of what he dealt with, as obvious as it was.

There had been a furrow of the brow- eliciting confusion more so than rage, in any measure.
Honestly, from the cowardly ‘Jedi’ on Kashyyyk to Sith skulking in the shadows…what was it with outsiders invoking such words? Did they find it amusing, perhaps, as a form of mockery? Did they earnestly think it was the truth? Or was it merely some sort of strategy to get under his skin? No matter the case, one answer to such was clear. More important, was a name.

“...Perhaps not so regrettable, after all.”

A soft ‘hah’ of a soft scoff escaped his lips, just as his weapon twisted in motion. His first movement was interrupted, but momentum would have to be carried nonetheless as it shifted path. As the other assumed a high guard, there had been a single step in advance- something that limited the range of either of their weapons’ reach. Along the motion, the opposite end of the haft, though not adorned with sharp ends, was still very capable of harm—aiming to attempt a swift, harsh crack against the other’s raising left arm. Keen gaze remained fixated, intent to look for openings with this swift followup, for nothing truly had been committed yet on either side.

His was a weapon handled with a peculiar grace, despite its imposing heft and weight. Though, his typical footwork was regrettably limited with their chosen battlefield. It was ironic- though differing slightly, many of such forms were ones he was technically trained in, for they shared similar principles. Martial prowess was a uniting factor of many in the galaxy, it seemed.

 

[Canm-Bulnu Bi]

The Mandalorian's approach reduced the distance between them, limiting Canm's options within the narrow aqueduct. As Carduul Akahl closed in, he settled into the guarded posture of Form V. The Force warned him to remain wary, drawing his attention to the weapon spinning through his opponent's hands before the blunt end of its haft was driven toward his arm.

Rather than pulling his lightsaber far out of position, Canm answered with a slight adjustment. He lowered the crimson blade into the path of the strike, catching the haft near the tip of his saber. The carefully placed interception robbed the attack of much of its leverage, allowing the blow to break against the crackling blade without forcing the Weequay from his stance.

Even so, the impact shuddered through the hilt and sent a hard vibration up his arm. Canm absorbed it without yielding, guiding his lightsaber back into position as the Mandalorian's momentum spent itself against his defense. Form V was built around such exchanges and he intended to return the blow with one of his own.

Planting his feet on the rusted metal, he unleashed the full force of Djem So and struck before Carduul could regain his balance. His red blade moved in a broad arc from left to right, targeting his defenses and attempting to cut through the openings in the beskar armor.

 

[Kjartan Hammer-Hand]

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​

OBJECTIVE 2: BAD WATER
TAG:
OPPS: Seris Velmora
ALLIES: [OPEN]​

​

KJARTAN HAMMER-HAND​

THEME​

​

Despite the hail of blaster fire, as expected the Sith moved with uncanny speed. The Mandalorian warriors altered their fields of fire to keep her on the move, and force her into unfavorable ground. As she eventually landed on the ground before them, Kjartan’s sword arm raised into a halt motion. The two warriors held their fire, and Kjartan appraised the young woman for a prolonged moment. He holstered the pistol, tossed the sword into his mechanical grasp, and pulled his remaining hammer with his now-free hand.

The other two drew their weapons - one a sword, the other a pair of daggers; and moved to encircle the Sith woman. Seconds began stretching into minutes as adrenaline began giving them all focus. Yet suddenly, the fight began anew as one of the guards fired a grappling cable at Seris’ back heel, intending to entangle her leg and cause her to stumble.

The sword-brother charged at her weak side, letting out a loud warcry - which would draw attention from the real assault. Kjartan charged from the opposing side and unleashed with his hammer. The massive runic weapon surged forth with a thrum - as though pounding the very air upon an unseen anvil in an upward strike that would have ripped the head off of whomever was unfortunate enough to be in the way.

Kjartan spun to the left with the momentum, and lashed out with his sword in a rapid strike aimed at her midsection. He could feel the blade strike against the violent crimson blade of his opponent - the two weapons binding into a lock that cast sparks across his helm and her face. “You never should have come here.”

At that, he lashed out with one final attack - a headbutt aimed at the epicenter of her forehead, intended to knock her off balance and leave her open for another attack.

​

 

[Calyx Sundrift]

Yuri Maji​

He glid back, accelerating toward the slot machines.

His head jerked toward the sound just in time to see the smoke trail of the Mandalorian's jetpack. The missile had already crossed half the distance.

M E M O R Y​

BATTLE OF CORUSCANT​

Callan Pen Ar-Lan smiled in the face of danger.

His blade was a steady blue line cutting through blaster bolts meant for the retreating Alliance line behind him. Overhead, the Alliance cruisers and Imperial destroyers traded fire in long burning arcs that lit the collapsing skybridges and balconies in flashes of green and red.

It was his submersion in the Living Force that kept him moving. Each deflection was an unconscious flick of his wrist. Or a pressure behind his ribs that signalled a bolt that would in half a second find his shoulder, a slight urge to step left as a support strut gave way to his right. He could no longer think in words. But the Force moved with him, and that was enough.

Callan's feet found steady footing on the rubble. His blue blade held ready against the advancing line of white-armored troopers. He had to do it alone now. His Master had fallen two blocks back. But that had been lost in the shouts and crackling comms during the retreat.

Oddly, the fear hadn't lasted. If anything, he feld more... certain. As if he were the only calm thing left in the galaxy.

That did not change when the walker rounded the corner of the ruined plaza. Callan raised his blade high. A brilliant blue beacon to rally behind.

Then the walker's missile pod angled. Lockeing on him.

Callan planted his feet threw out one open hand.

Felt the launch before he heard it.

And in one fluid gesture, redirected the missile into the remains of an already collapsed tower.

The concussion rocked him back a step and dust and heat rolled over both their lines.

When the field cleared, soon-to-be Knight Callan still stood on the rubble barricade. And the white-armored lines showed the first signs of hesitation.

Calyx threw up a hand, his will iron against the fury of the Dark Side. Demanding it take shape as it had once before. And when his fist closed, he felt it toil. Obeying like a whimpering child.

He caught the missile in a grip that had nothing to do with muscle. The full force of its momentum fought against his will, as the exhaust burned not a foot from his clenched fist.

Challenged now, he finally understood it.

The Light guided, even those few with little conviction. But the Dark Side? It required a firmer hand. It would only yield results proportionate to its master's ambition. The very thing he was so often caught lacking.

His good foot pressed gently against the slot machine, halting his controlled drift. The Mandalorian already came at him again. He felt it in the roiling of the Dark Side before his eye confirmed it.

His fist opened, palm flat. And the missile curved back, released on its proprietor not unlike the golden bolt he'd punched back moments before.

Calyx immediately launched himself off the slot machine toward the ceiling as the first golden streaks hissed past, scorching the machine's surface behind him. The rest of the volley clashed against his blade, the force of each impact knocking him off the trajectory he'd planned.

Still moving up, thankfully, but angled now.

"Do you not tire of this, Mandalorian?!" He called out to his assailant. "Were you not here for a good night? To earn a credit or two?" He attempted to smile, but the dark side writhing through his veins and turned his smile into something uglier. "We can still divide the credits and go our separate ways."

The Sith preached no mercy, yes, but Calyx had never been one for semantics.

 

[Vren Rook]

VETERAN
CASINO | ABREGADO-RAE
ALLIES: Siv Dragr | COV
ENEMIES: TSC
ENGAGING: Arris Windrun | Quinn Varanin
GEAR: In bio

JOHN THE REVELATOR​

"You seeing this?"

Vren mentally rolled his eyes at his brother's question, but in reality, his eyes did not leave the two they were focusing on.
"You don't say, Siv." he remarked dryly.

"Can you two even beat me?"

"You got the loud-mouth,"

This taunting is getting old.
"Shy, much?" Vren shot back at Siv before his jetpack fired up again.

<I'd think twice before I ask that of two veterans, darlin'.> he told the cyborg that stood with her arms spread as he rose up higher, hovering just below the ceiling. <Come on, then. What can you do to lil' ol' me.> He was an old Mando'ad for a reason.

He survived the Dread Hammer more than once. None of them could hold a candle to the man. Nag still had irreparable dents from one encounter.

But they all thought they did and for that, Siv will have to cough up those credits. Better yet, they both had kids that deserved a life free of these vermin.

For good measure, he flicked the blaster to Particle setting. He'd hold back on the more lethal option for now - no need to scatter the already cluttered air with nuts and bolts as well.

He didn't get a lot of info on this cyborg from his scan, but the fact that she was accompanied by the Queen of Eshan was troubling enough for the Covenant as a whole.

He'll have to deploy more Nynir'kad after this.

For now, his visor would record what it can.

 

[Yuri Maji]

ABREGADO-RAE | TRIPLE NOVA CASINO
ALLIES: COV | Vara Maji | Vren Rook | Siv Dragr
ENEMIES: TSC | Arris Windrun | Quinn Varanin | Calyx Sundrift | Varin Mortifer
ENGAGING: Calyx Sundrift
GEAR: In bio

THEME​

The missile blasted forth, but the explosion never came. The booster fought against an invisible grasp that held the warhead in place just short of its intended target. Instinct and training screamed, the Hound’s mind went blank at the thought of what was about to happen.

His aim shifted, a bolt was loosed directly at the warhead just as it began to move back at him. There was no stopping with the momentum he already had, they were both dangerously close to the blast radius.

He was just going to have to take it.

The explosion would rattle them both at such a range, but it was worth it.

The Hound careened through the air, momentarily dazed at the shockwave that sent him flying back. His jetpack thankfully cut out, stopping what could’ve been a disastrous loss of control. Bouncing off a nearby wall, Yuri shook his head and stabilized himself while his crimson visor locked onto his target once again.

The Sith was getting increasingly erratic. Not in the way he had seen in reports from the more veteran vermin, this was unpredictable. He had learned a thing or two from the Jedi he met over the years and the old saying seemed to remain true for the saber-slingers. The professionals weren’t the dangerous ones.

His breath caught up and Yuri charged forth again, pistols blazing to overwhelm the Sith’s defense until he got close enough to fire his grappling line at the man’s legs. His movement remained erratic to avoid more bolts sent back to him. ”No form, no focus…” Yuri growled. ”Just a karkin’ animal.” His available vambrace shifted, intending to follow up with the feint of his grappling line.

Roaring fire erupted in a deadly stream toward the Sith as Yuri pushed forward. It didn’t matter what was thrown at him next, he needed to get close.

 

[Seris Velmora]

Tag: Kjartan Hammer-Hand

Seris' smile only grew as the blasters disappeared. Steel. A hammer. Daggers. Now this was beginning to feel worthwhile. A quiet chuckle escaped her as she watched the two warriors begin to fan out around her, each taking a different angle while Kjartan advanced from the front.

She looked from one to the next before settling her crimson gaze back on the horned Mandalorian. "Three on one again..." she mused, almost thoughtfully. "I am remembering that correctly, right?" Her sabers spun lazily in her hands. "I suppose sharing is polite."

The canal fell silent for a heartbeat. Then the cable shot toward her ankle. Seris felt it through the Force before she truly saw it. She sprang upward, tucking her legs beneath her as the grappling line hissed beneath her boots, its hook scraping sparks from the beam behind her instead of wrapping around her heel.

She landed sideways atop a rusted support pillar. The swordsman was already there. His war cry announced his charge well before his blade arrived. Too obvious. Her left saber snapped outward, catching the descending strike while her right blade lashed toward his exposed shoulder—not to finish him, but to force him backward and break his momentum. He retreated exactly as she'd hoped, boots skidding across wet metal.

A distraction. She had known it before his feet ever moved. The hammer came from the opposite side. "Oh, there you are."

Seris threw herself backward as the massive weapon roared through the space she'd occupied, the displaced air alone tugging at loose strands of dark hair. The hammer's passage carried a weight unlike any ordinary weapon, enough that she could feel its presence even without contact. That...

...was dangerous. Exciting. She twisted with the retreat, bringing both crimson blades across her body just in time to meet Kjartan's follow-up slash. The beskad slammed against her sabers. Sparks burst between them.

The impact jolted through her wrists harder than she expected. He was stronger than before. Or perhaps she'd simply underestimated just how much leverage that armored frame could produce.

"You never should have come here."

She laughed directly into his visor. "But then we'd both be bored." Their blades slid apart. His head snapped forward. Seris managed to turn just enough that the armored forehead glanced across her temple instead of striking her squarely between the eyes. Even so, stars burst across her vision.

"Ha!" She stumbled two quick steps before catching herself, one hand touching the beam to steady her balance. Her grin never faded. "You've been practicing." The admission sounded almost approving.

Before either of the flanking Mandalorians could capitalize, Seris exploded back into motion. She refused to let them dictate the pace. Her footwork became erratic, darting between supports and narrow walkways, forcing the two lesser warriors to continually hesitate rather than commit to clean strikes for fear of colliding with Kjartan's attacks.

One dagger flashed toward her ribs. She rolled beneath it, the blade slicing only leather. The swordsman recovered quickly, forcing her to divert a slash meant for Kjartan. Competent. Disciplined. Annoying. But not dangerous. Not like him.

Every instinct kept pulling her attention back toward Hammer-Hand. The weight of his swings. The precision hidden beneath their brutality. The way each missed strike flowed naturally into another angle of attack rather than overextending him.

He wasn't simply trying to crush her. He was trying to corner her. Seris' heartbeat quickened. Finally. Someone who made her think while she fought. Her sabers settled into a tighter guard than before, crimson eyes locked solely upon Kjartan even as the others circled at the edge of her vision.

"Oh..." The smile that spread across her face bordered on manic. "You really are harder to break."

​

 

[Kjartan Hammer-Hand]

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​

OBJECTIVE 2: BAD WATER
TAG:
OPPS: Seris Velmora
ALLIES: [OPEN]​

​

KJARTAN HAMMER-HAND​

THEME​

​

The warriors fighting alongside Kjartan were not simple grunts, nor even baseline fighters who could ‘technically’ call themselves Mandalorian. Both men were loyal, seasoned, and battle-hardened. As the fight continued, all three of them moved with practiced precision - as though syncronized in a deadly dance of blades and blood. The sword-brother attempted to lock her down into another blade bind, while Daggers struck out at her exposed side to try and inflict some small wounds - if for no other reason, than to wear the Sith apprentice down.

Kjartan prepared himself, steeling his nerves. His heartbeat punctuated each passing moment, yet he did not feel any unseen force shrouding him. It seemed as though Seris was... reveling in the martial bloodletting rather than calling upon her uncanny powers to subdue them. A flash of respect crossed his mind, as he could not help but appreciate the honor in true combat between worthy opponents. Yet this respect did not replace the cold resolve he held with himself, to put this feral force-witch down here and now.

He could feel cold focus overcoming his senses, which in and of itself was an evolution of his former self at the battle of Humbarine. At the loss of his men, as the situation about the Spirit Breaker grew dire, the Hammer-Hand saw only red - which led to the loss of his arm, and his near death at the hands of this...

This madwoman.

"Oh..." The smile that spread across her face bordered on manic. "You really are harder to break."

Kjartan lashed out with an upward slash with his sword, which he expected to be countered. As his blade made impact, he spun again with the recoil, this time bringing the hooked-end of his hammer around to grip her again - almost as he did on the Spirit Breaker. Yet, he knew she would likely predict the motion, so compensated.

Rather than going for the heel with the hooked-end of his hammer, he struck out hard to her upper-backside with the flat end of his hammer with enough force to hopefully throw her bodily forward. He glimpsed the Hammer - HIS hammer strapped across her back. “And yet I intend on breaking you.” was all he said in reply, charging forth with his sword to try and skewer her through the back.

​

 

[Gel Karn]

GEL KARN
ABREGADO-RAE
TAG: SL-0182
GEAR: Gel Karn's Bev Shield, Akalenedat, Mandalorian Lanvarok, Mandalorian Vibroboots, Mandalorian Magna-Gloves, Gel Karn's Bandolier, Mandalorian Jazerant, Mandalorian Recon Helmet, Variable Plasma Shield Gauntlet

How Gel is trying to move:​

Though Gel was still rather shaken up, he was, physically at least, ok to keep moving, which is exactly what he did once he caught his breath and his hands stopped shaking.

His helmet back on his head, his Mandalorian Lanvarok reloaded and his eyes peeled for any sort of trouble, Gel continued down his original route, moving even slower than before but still with purpose as he scanned around for SL-0182 and that damn probe droid they had with them. At least, Gel though it was a probe droid, though it wasn't any model that he had ever seen, superficially resembling a bird of sort. In fact, Gel couldn't be confident that whatever companion SL-0182 had with them was actually mechnaical and not organic, though it didn't really matter to much to Gel.

He'd find whatever it was, and smash it to bits all the same.

Still he had to be careful, and as he moved, he periodically scattered Beskar Caltrops behind him, on the rather slim chance that SL-0182 would accidentally step on one and take themselves out of the equation. He didn't think he could count on it, but he'd take anything that he could get at this point.

As much as Gel could, he tried to hug the walls of the canals around him, limiting the potential directions that SL-0182 could ambush him from. The more variables that he could control, the more likely it would be that he would come out of this mess alive. Of course, worse case scenario, Gel could jump into the canal itself and try to swim away, but that was a last resort if Gel ever had one, and he didn't want to even think about how long it would take for him to clean his armor if he had to take a dive.

Luckily, he had identified a suitable landing zone for him to get picked up from a short distance away, just large enough for a dropship to land without crashing into the ground. It was the best chance he had at survival...assuming he could actually reach that spot before SL-0182 blasted him or slit his throat or otherwise killed him in any infinite amount of cruel and creatives ways...

​

 

[Seris Velmora]

Tag: Kjartan Hammer-Hand

Steel closed around Seris from three directions. Good. That meant there was still room to move. The swordsman's blade came first, exactly where she expected it. Her offhand saber caught it with practiced ease, crimson and beskar grinding together in a shower of sparks. The bind held only for an instant. Just long enough.

A sharp sting flared along her exposed side. The dagger wielder had found her. Not deep. Not serious. Enough. Seris hissed through her teeth as a thin line of warmth spread beneath her combat leathers. Without even looking, her main saber carved outward in a broad, reckless arc. It wasn't meant to kill. It was meant to make space.

The crimson blade forced the dagger fighter to give ground or lose an arm, and Seris continued the motion without pause. The saber completed its sweeping circle, curving back toward Kjartan before the opening between them could widen.

Always moving. Always threatening. Something brushed against her awareness. Not an attack. A feeling. Respect? It was gone before she could make sense of it. Didn't matter.

The next strike already demanded her attention. Kjartan's sword rose in a familiar line. She met it. Metal screamed against plasma. There. The hammer. Her feet shifted instinctively, sliding into a tighter angle to deny the hooking sweep she'd felt before. She was already moving away from where she expected the trap to close. Only—

The hook never came. "Oh—" The flat of the hammer slammed into the upper edge of her lower back and side instead. Pain exploded through her torso. The impact drove a grunt from her lungs as her body lurched forward several steps before instinct forced her feet back underneath her. Every muscle along her flank protested the movement, the fresh bruise immediately joining the shallow dagger cut.

"...Better," she breathed through clenched teeth. As she twisted back toward him, she caught Kjartan's gaze lingering for the briefest instant. Not on her. On the hammer strapped across her back. A grin split her face despite the ache. He still wanted it. Of course he did.

Her off-hand saber swept through another enormous arc, forcing both flanking Mandalorians to hesitate once again before they could close the distance. "You shouldn't threaten me with a good time!" She barely finished the sentence before Kjartan surged in. Fast. Faster than before. His sword drove toward her back before she could fully recover her stance.

Too fast for her blade. Seris released her primary lightsaber without hesitation. The weapon clattered from numb fingers, skidding end over end across the rusted beam before tumbling into the foul mire below. Instead, her empty hand shot outward.

Her palm crashed into Kjartan's forearm just behind the wrist. Not enough to stop him. Enough to spoil the line. The sword scraped across her side instead of punching cleanly through her back, opening another shallow line of pain that drew a sharp breath between clenched teeth.

She answered by exploding away. The Force surged into her legs. One powerful vault carried her backward over the polluted canal, landing atop another narrow support several meters distant. Her boots struck with a metallic clang that echoed through the tunnels as she absorbed the impact in a low crouch.

Her free hand reached over one shoulder. The familiar weight slid free. The massive hammer she'd claimed at Humbarine settled comfortably into her grasp while her remaining crimson lightsaber hummed in the other.

She rolled one shoulder, wincing only slightly as her battered side reminded her it was still there. Then she laughed again. "You've gotten better." It wasn't mockery this time. It was approval. Her crimson eyes gleamed as she leveled the hammer toward Kjartan. "So have I."

​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Arris Windrun //:
//: Siv Dragr //: Vren Rook //:

Arris seemed to welcome the gift. Quinn could feel it, how easily her influence bled into the woman's metal frame. This was different than the other times; for once, she had allowed it to happen willingly. She controlled who received her gift; it wasn't out in the open for someone to choose.

Quinn quietly pressed her lips together, not wanting to say more or tempt fate further with the woman in front of her. She had done something that she had never done before, and the evidence began to show almost instantly. Too easily did she feel the criminal's presence in her mind.

Thoughts blossomed from different places — she could almost feel the power surging through rivets and joints.

Arris felt more alive now than she ever had around the Echani.

Warmth drew her attention, pulling her from the almost hypnotic lull of trying to pry open the thoughts that flickered in her own mind.

Quinn suddenly found Arris fascinating.

She felt the android's hand on her waist; it was warm, or was it just what Quinn wanted to believe? Hands were warm, drumming with a pulse, but Arris… Arris was different.

Still, Quinn rested her hand gently over the hand, feeling the stretch of synth-skin. It was different, but easily mistaken for life.

As Arris moved away from her. Quinn carefully brushed the cyborg's knuckles gently with her thumb — almost longing for the warm touch again.

Attention was drawn by the Mandalorian attackers once more. She would know no peace today.

The force moved, shifting around the Echani as one of the Mandalorians decided it was time to turn out the lights on them. As the lights flickered, Quinn allowed her senses to open. Arris would feel the change, suddenly all of her senses flaring the life.

"We don't need light." She murmured as electricity began to spark at the ends of her fingers. Crimson bolts bled, wanting to be summoned to its Master.

Quinn would ignore it, and instead her hands would rise, calling to the debris around the casino. Particles of broken glass, poker chips, among other things, became animated as a gust of wind shifted with the will of the young Queen. Her focus was the jetpacks the pair of Mandalorians wore. If she couldn't tear the packs from their backs, she would destroy them.

Debris and particles spiraled in the air as they cycloned towards the piping along the Mandalorians' backs. She didn't need to see them. She could feel them; she could mentally picture every aspect of their shape. Quinn hated the Mandalorians as much as they hated her for being a Sith.

Aether's people were off limits, but these?

She would enjoy feeding them the darkness, till they rotted from the inside out.

 

[Arris Windrun]

Quinn Varanin
Vren Rook | Siv Dragr
Down & Out
​

Arris had little trouble adjusting to the low light as the Mandalorian began to shoot 'em out, systematically. Cybernetic eyes were just good that way.

However, that wasn't her only view into what was going on. The whole casino was rigged with CCTV - because of course it was, and they weren't just ordinary cameras. They could deal with everything from low-light visibility to offering a range of visual profiles across infrared to weapons detection and identity verification. Basically, if you thought it was impossible to include something in a camera, then these had 'em. It didn't take much for the technometric slicer to access them; she had plenty of time to do so while loitering around the back area playing her dumb 'I'm just looking for the bathroom' routine earlier.

So, as soon as the lights went out, Arris Windrun linked up, and the casino's eyes were now her eyes. Reminded her of the first few rounds on Ruusan.

"Psh," was Windrun's only remark at the backwater spacer impression from the one in shabby armor.

She didn't have time to play snark with two old men. Not with all that juice Quinn just gave her, flooding through her synthetic body like the best damned hit of spice she's ever had.

One camera kept an eye on the Echani, while the rest were positioned to give her a dynamic view of the floor. Blind spots and cover would not be to their advantage.

Her attention flicked between the enemies, sifting out the signals from the noise. They were packing quite a bit of tech, though it was harder for the cyborg to get a read on the one in red. 'Odd,' she hadn't any clue why.

The sight of crimson crackling pulled Windrun's attention briefly, not that anyone would quite know it, as the cyborg uncannily remained fixed in his position, without need to turn her head in any direction to see what was happening. Was Quinn really going to let loose like that in here? Arris wasn't exactly a lightning rod, but...

But then debris swirled up instead, a whirlwind of improvised shrapnel carving through all in its path, headed straight for the Mandalorians and their jetpacks.

Arris grabbed both sluggers in their holsters, angling them slightly, but never drawing. Her fingers pulled the triggers, using the heavy blowback in weightlessness to accelerate her rapidly towards the right side of the room. Naturally, high-powered pistols were not a substitute for maneuvering thrusters, but the Talusian wasn't shy in zero-G. She hadn't obsessed over and practiced to compete in The Big Game all those years for nothing.

One leg hooked around a pillar, knee bent as she pulled against it to spin her momentum back around in a fishhook. Another shot, another burst of speed that tossed her behind the two a second later.

 

[Calyx Sundrift]

Yuri Maji​

The lights in the gaming hall faded. He caught only a brief glimpse of the other battles raging through the room, but could attribute it to one Mandalorian who seemed intent on shrouding them all in darkness.

The last thing he could see clearly was the Hound's golden bolts colliding with the missile he'd sent hurtling back.

A splash of light. Then a shockwave that threw him back, tossing him off-path in nauseating swings. Calyx slammed against the ceiling and nearly lost his grip on his lightsaber as the air punched out of his lungs. His connection to the dark side, sickening as it was, held.

Well. He'd reached the ceiling, at least.

Dazed, ears still ringing, he scoured for the flash of the Mandalorian's jetpack. He found it, accompanied by a storm of golden bolts.

His lightsaber was moving again in an instant, dormant senses waking the same way they had on Desevro. Calyx angled his blade, letting the hissing tibanna charges ricochet off his guard. The impact absorbed through his whole body now that the ceiling gave him stable footing.

He kept his gaze locked upward, tracking the Mandalorian who'd chosen, again, to close the distance. Calyx imagined that every decisive blow the Hound had left, required melee range.

He grasped for debris to throw in the Mandalorian's path, but found that the explosion had scattered it all beyond reach.

Then whipcord launched from the Hound's vambrace. Calyx leapt back, shaping the Force like gravity to keep himself anchored to the ceiling. The cord cracked against the stone where he'd stood with a whipcrack.

He probably has a way to electrify it. He whirled his saber. Better not risk it.

At once the Hound shifted his arm, angling the bracer a different way. Flame roared out from his erratic flight path, the scorching heat surging straight for the Fallen jedi.

Calyx moved to counterattack before it reached him. The hand he'd been using to anchor himself to the ceiling shifted forward instead, delivering a Force-push meant to press the flames back on the attacker and knock his flight path off balance again.

He didn't let up.

His will collided with the dark side once more, funneling power into his good leg, and he launched himself at the Mandalorian, blade thrust forward.

 

[SL-0182]

Location: Outer Canals, Abregado-rae Spaceport - Abregado-rae
Thread Objective: Bad Water
Mission Objective: Hunt down the Mandalorians.
Tag: Gel Karn

It did not take long for SL-0182 to pick out the traps that she had been looking for. The caltrops came into view as she advanced, their jagged forms lit up by her HUD’s light amplification systems so that her night-blind Hapan eyes could easily pick them out. She came to a stop, her head tilting slightly as she activated her helmet’s scanners.

The caltrops were beskar.

Pure beskar, as far as she could assess. And yet, even with the hard evidence projected in her HUD, SL-0182 second-guessed the analysis. Beskar was rare and virtually priceless to the Mandalorians. Why would they use it for caltrops? It made no sense. They had to be some manner of convoluted trap. Perhaps a lure, or a misdirection.

SL-0182 marked the caltrops’ positions on her map for later investigation. If the caltrops truly were beskar, then they would represent an invaluable addition to the Kainate’s reserves of the sacred Mandalorian metal. If not, then there were larger questions at play. Thus, the Asset gave each of the caltrops a wide berth so as to avoid setting off any expertly concealed explosives that she still suspected might be present. From there, she turned the corner, immediately finding herself back down in the canal.

There, she caught sight of her quarry, his thermal signature blooming in her optics as he moved towards the canal opening less than fifty meters ahead.

Her SMG snapped up, the Ghost Link translating intent into motion with inhuman fluidity as her sight picture honed in on the Mandalorian’s center mass from just over fifteen meters away. The weapon gave a pair of muted, yet distinctly high-pitched staccato pops as a two-shot hyperburst of silenced hypervelocity slugs lanced through the air with nothing but a quiet hum to mark their passage. A second two-shot hyperburst followed immediately after the first, both shots similarly aimed to strike him in his chest!

Spoiler: Loadout

• Klase Vele Combat Skin Mk. I - Helmet Configuration
  
  • Arms
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II - L Forearm
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• KSMG-7 Mk. II - Kainate Submachine Gun Model Seven Second Rendition
  
  • Ammunition
    
    • Extended Magazine - Active Wave Cancellation Ammunition (2)
    • Standard Magazine - Active Wave Cancellation Ammunition (4)
    • Standard Magazine - High Explosive Ammunition (2)
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Phase I “Susurration” Anti-Sonic Silencer
• KAR-18 - Kainate Aquatic Rifle Model Eighteen
  
  • Ammunition
    
    • FAE/AM-01-S3 Energy Weapon Cartridge (10)
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
• Siqsa-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Obscuration Canister (2)
• FAE/MDE-01-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (4)
• Agzonûboj-type Probe Droid