Invasion This is the Way || ME Invasion of DIA-held Yaga Minor

[Korda Veydran]

Smoke and ash hung heavy over the ruined street as Korda pressed forward, boots slamming cracked concrete, visor flickering with overlays of heat signatures and terrain. The LO‑25/AAA battery loomed ahead, massive and bristling with twin barrels, a fortress of steel and fire control. Around it, Diarchy DAF troops moved cautiously, huddled behind sandbags and broken barricades, weapons raised, eyes scanning the ruined horizon.

Korda's comm crackled. The lone Mandalorian's voice came weak, ragged, but steady:
"Korda… made it. I got both KIA Mandos back to the one with the leg injury. But… I'm not sure how much longer I can hold. Blood loss… it's bad… staying focused is getting harder."

Korda slowed only slightly, eyes narrowing behind his visor. His thoughts ran over the situation with machine-like precision: Good. They're alive. I'll finish this, then return. Hang time, soldier. Hang time.


He scanned the area again. Debris-strewn vehicles, shattered streetlights, and burnt-out walls provided cover, but the twin barrels of the LO‑25 tracked the horizon like twin serpents ready to strike. He noted the DAF grunts. four or five of them, spread awkwardly, nervous, waiting for a target. They would see him soon enough. He let his chest rise, taking in the acrid scent of burning rubble, the metallic tang of scorched concrete, the faint smoke rising from the ruins of the previous fights.

This is theirs to defend. But I am the storm, he thought. And the storm never yields.
Korda's hand brushed against his belt, feeling the cold, rough metal of the explosives clipped there. Soon… very soon, he calculated, but first… I will make them see me.


He dropped low and grabbed a jagged piece of steel debris from the street, crude but sturdy. In his other hand, he seized a bent, scorched panel as a makeshift shield, even though his gauntlet shield was more than enough. He wanted them to see him. To feel the weight of what was coming.
The LO‑25's servos whirred as if sensing his approach. Sparks flew as Korda slammed the debris-sword against the panel-shield, the clang ringing out over the battlefield.

Then came the yell: raw, commanding, Mandalorian, and terrifying:
"By Mandalore the Iron! By Kad Ha'rangar the Destroyer! Witness the wrath of the Mandalorian Empire!"


The DAF grunts froze, rifles trembling in their hands. They had expected drones, or cover fire, or a careful tactical approach. Not this, a lone Mandalorian, emerging from smoke and fire, demanding their attention with the sheer force of presence alone.
Korda's eyes flicked once toward the horizon where the lone Mando had fallen back, tending to the wounded. Hold fast. I'll finish this, then return. Hang time.


He stepped forward again, boots hammering rubble, debris crunching underfoot. Each movement was precise, measured. a predator stalking the apex of its territory. He let the heat of the fires wash over him, letting the scent of smoke and scorched steel sharpen his senses.


The battery grew larger in his view, barrels glinting, mounted on their reinforced frame. He could see the gaps in its armor, the seams along the ammo feeds, all the angles that would soon be exploited. He didn't yet strike. Not yet. First, he would announce his arrival. First, he would make them see the storm coming.


Then he raised the jagged steel, shield in his other hand, and slammed them together in a hard, metallic clap. a Spartan salute to the battlefield, to the honor of Mandalore, and to the fury of Kad Ha'rangar. Sparks flew in wide arcs, illuminating the terrified defenders as Korda let out another guttural roar, echoing over the shattered street:

"COME! FACE YOUR DESTINY! MANDALORE AND THE DESTROYER WATCH ME!"

The LO‑25 servos whined, barrels tracking, but Korda didn't hesitate. Every step forward was a message: he was coming. The storm had arrived. And when he reached them, every defender would know the weight of the Mandalorian Empire unleashed.


Allies: Aether Verd Warpriest Prime Itzhal Volkihar Siv Kryze
oppisition: Norbert Oro 'Sentinel' Janius Everwall

SIT REP: landed with 4 fellow Mando's, 2 KIA, 2 injured. one with leg injury and one with blood loss from multiple injuries

 

[Hanna]

Location: Santhe-Sienar Shipyards, Yaga Minor Orbit - Cockpit - Relentless
Thread Objective: When the Sky Falls
Mission Objective: Disable the sensor and tractor beam control station.
Allies: Siv Kryze
Direct Engagement: The Shroud Knight Shyra Calipsa

Hanna’s eyes widened beneath her visor when the cloaked warrior was thrown back from the impact of her slugs, one of which struck his armor with a sharp ping. She brought up her pistols again, shifting her aim to his legs in an attempt to finish him off and bypass his armor. However, before she could fire, a heavy thud struck her mid-glide, causing her suit’s integrated shields to visibly fluoresce at the point of impact as a spiderweb of blue-white energy danced across the surface. Her HUD briefly flickered, but otherwise remained intact as the hardened electronics held their charge.

Although her suit held out against the blasts, the force behind them wrenched her back with a sudden lurch. Without solid footing, her balance faltered. However, the Qilin recovered with fluid combat instinct, crouching to lower her center of gravity as she shifted her legs to counter-steer against the spin. She extended an arm for stability, before coming around to search for her assailant.

However, it was then that more of the gas filled her vision.

Hanna pursed her lips as the haze thickened, but she was far from blind. The optics suite in her helmet adapted almost instantly, layering ultrasonic returns and millimeter-wave radar over her obscured sight.

Almost a moment too late, an ultrasonic return indicated movement at her periphery while her radar picked up a figure closing through the mist.

A lightsaber ignited. Hanna moved, her skates carrying her hard to the left in an instantaneous burst of repulsor-driven acceleration. The strike grazed along her lower leg, just missing her skates but searing across her left calf. A loud screech-hiss sounded out as the shields flared and overloaded at the point of contact. Pain lanced through her awareness as a sharp gasp escaped from her lips. Her armor had ablated the worst of the strike, but the skin beneath bloomed an angry crimson, having suffered a first-degree burn from conducted heat.

Still, guided by the ghostly silhouettes painted across her HUD, Hanna counter-attacked almost immediately. Now seven meters away from the cloaked warrior, she leveled her pistols towards him and a second figure ( Shyra Calipsa ) that was fourteen meters away, her neural implant splitting her focus so that she could aim and fire at both targets at once. Void Stone-treated standard hypervelocity slugs tore through the air with sharp cracks. Two were aimed for the lightsaber-wielding figure’s chest, while two more were directed towards the newcomer’s center mass.

“Siv, stay with me!” Hanna called out over her and Siv’s comms, her tone strained, yet calm even with the burn singing up her leg. The sonic neutralizers in her helmet muted her voice, so that only Siv could hear it through his comm link. “If you can, get out of the smoke. I have a plan!”

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
• Glitter Roses (2)
  
  • Ammunition
    
    • Extended Magazine - Standard Penetrator: Void Stone Treatment (2)
    • Standard Magazine - Standard Penetrator: Void Stone Treatment (4)
    • Standard Magazine - Seismic Implosive-Explosive: Void Stone Treatment (2)
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
• Hanna’s HB-42 Disruptor Pistols (2)
  
  • Ammunition
    
    • FAE/AM-01-S2 Energy Weapon Cartridge - Ethaerium X Gas and CryoBan Coolant (12)
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
• Mobius Bes’Kad
• FAE/MDE-01-S2 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (2)
• Infrared Smoke Grenade (2)

 

[Viari Banu]

This is the Way - BYOO​

Viari remained still, his avian eyes peering out of the darkness only breaking contact as a loud sound nearby broke his concentration, or the earth trembled as heavy ordenance detonated somewhere unseen. It wasn't as bad as the fireworks, but is was damn near close and this time it wasn't a celebration or festival but the demise of thousands. Eostre's cloak kept her heart close, her whispers in the dark lulling him with security, he was safe here beneath this fortress of stone but others weren't. Others couldn't fly away from danger like he could.​

​

Then, out of nowhere a girl entered the vacinity of his little sanctuary, he could hear the drumming heart in her chest and recognised it's song. The speckles of ruby dotted her mouth and the tail twitched like a feline, and Viari remained deathly silent. He did not know her to be friend nor foe, but she did not wear armour and looked too exhausted to fight, with a thud, his focus turned to sight. She was no longer standing, her back pressed firmly into the wall while droplets of ruby stained the floor beneath.​

​

Without a second thought, Viari leapt from his hiding place and descended upon the ground before her, his tail sweeping away the rubbish and packets behind him. He studied her injury, then looked back at the girl. "Hello friend!" He hooted quitely, keeping his voice low to avoid detection from any who might be searching. "Viari can help? Can heal." He offered pointing his beak towards her injury, it had been many moons since he used the Force in such a manner, but he remained confident in his own ability, or more precisely, his father's teachings.​

​

Zaytee​

Div created by Makeb​

 

[Aselia Verd]

Armor:
Aselia Verd's Jurkad'gam

Armament:
Basilisk War Droid
DR-04DB Class-D Disruptor Rifle
ML-04 Missile Launcher
Striilir-class Brilliant Missile x 5

Objective: III

The street was already coming apart when Aselia made the call.

Two armored vehicles had rolled into position downrange, their fire chewing through ferrocrete and collapsing what little cover remained. The concussive impacts rattled her teeth, dust and shrapnel blasting past as her HUD screamed warnings and recalculated survivability in tight red brackets.

She didn't retreat.

The basilisk broke off its firing run and doubled back immediately, repulsors howling as it accelerated toward Aselia through smoke and fire. Incoming rounds stitched the air around it, but the basilisk barreled through as ordiance impacted its shield and debris was flung around by its charge.

Aselia broke from cover and jumped, grabbing ahold of the beast, pressing her body into it as the rounds continued, letting it shield her from any fire. Her hands caught the basilisk's armored spine the force of the pickup nearly tearing her loose before she hauled herself up and locked her boots into a recessed foothold.

She didn't pause, she slide the disruptor back onto her back as the basilisk made a wide loop around the battlefield. She reached down and grabbed ahold of the ML-04 missile launcher mag locked to the basilisk in one fluid motion lifted its weight onto her shoulder the basilisk leveled just enough to give her a firing solution. HUD synchronizing instantly as targeting brackets snapped over the two vehicles that had been hunting her moments before. The missile tore from the launcher speeding through the air, the droid brain of the missile already beginning to track the target and analyzing to determine the optimal detonation point.

At the same time, a second roar cut through the chaos. From her right, Adelle's basilisk smashed through the side of a building, sending duracrete and steel exploding outward as the war droid tore straight through the structure. It didn't slow. It turned and barreled toward the rear guard of the enemy, sonic cannons firing into the exposed backline.

An alarm sounded in Aselia's hud as she loaded another round into the launcher an incoming gunship on their position. She turned and lined up on the gunship, waiting for a moment for the lock, as soon as the crosshair was green the missile screamed off the launcher, guidance locking as it skimmed low before popping up and going straight into the sky streaking toward the inbound gunship.

Then new data flooded in.

High above the city, Mandalorian transports were cutting through the atmosphere in disciplined descent paths. Not landing on her position smartly dispersed, touching down across distant districts to widen the battlefield and bring fresh forces to the ground. She caught glimpses of dark hulls between banks and turns, repulsors flaring as they committed.

Reinforcements were in.

The air shuddered again deeper this time, a wrong, heavy vibration that rolled through the city like a distant quake. Her HUD pulled orbital telemetry without hesitation.

The Lucrehulk in orbit was disintegrating.

Burning fragments tore free, streaking through the sky in long, incandescent arcs. Distant impacts flared across the city, shockwaves rippling outward as structures groaned under the strain. Smaller debris began to rain closer superheated fragments clattering across rooftops and streets, sparks and dust cascading through the smoke.

TAG: Adelle Bastiel 'Sentinel' Janius Everwall Null 7
​

 

[CT-312]

//: Engaging: Caelus Vire // NIHIL //:
//: Allies: ME | Enemy: DIA //:
//: Yaga Minor //:
//: Attire //:
//: EQUIPMENT: Halcyon Armour| M.I. 'Sunstroke' jetpack| M.I. 'Halo' jump boots | Contact Lenses | Wrist Mounted APG | Ancile Shield | Navi/Barca //:
//: PRIMARY WEAPONS: VW 864 Maser Rifle | LO-18D | Assault Carbine Mk. II //:
//: Secondary Weapons: LO-22S | Electromagnetic Plasma Hand Cannon | Eight Blade Razorline Projector| Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II //:
//: 40|40 Active Mag : 2 Backup Mags x LO-KI/22 Standard Slug Round //:
//: ADDITIONAL EQUIPMENT: 3 x Kushute Grenades | 6 x Shiva Knifes | S.A.N.D. Powder //:
//: 2 x Ion Grenades|2 x Flash Grenades|2 x Incendiary Grenades|2 x Smoke Grenades //:
//: 3 x S. Seeker Thermal Explosive , 3 x S. Seeker Concussion Explosive //:
//: 1 x Arrow head of Absence | LK Spider Slicer Droid | BioMedical Support System//:
//: Droids: 4 x LK Pred-X //:

//: OBJ 4 - WHEN WE WANDER (BYOO) //:​

War had already begun.

CT-312 sat strapped into the cockpit of the Dûr'ashaarai. The fighter did not idle. It prowled. Drifting along the outer reaches of Yaga Minor’s high orbit, where the stars thinned and the planet’s defensive lattice began to glow. The Diarchy’s war forges, shipyards, and defense nodes were all stitched together into a single arrogant halo.

Two LK Pred-X units were clamped along the wing supports— one above, one below—held by magnetic locks and straps. CT-312 could feel the dormant violence as the Dûr'ashaarai thrummed beneath her. Its hunger bled through the bond. The pressure behind her eyes slowly building up, tightening in her chest that had nothing to do with oxygen levels. The ship’s desire pushed against CT-312’s control.

She exhaled slowly through her helmet. “Patience, Caligo.” The fighter’s lights along the cockpit frame shifted from white to a mute red. Offended. Red, pulsing in rhythm with CT-312’s heartbeat. Eager and waiting.

The Scout watched as the first act of the war unfolded. A Lucrehulk-class battleship with its screaming engines barreling toward the defense ring. Its distress chatter flooded the channels briefly. It never made it. The battleship was obliterated before it could do any damage. It’s mass scattering as burning fragments descend down in the planet’s atmosphere. Trailing fire toward Yaga Minor’s surface like a meteor storm. The communications feeds lit up.

Reports of Beskar-clad warriors and their basilisks breaching and engaging planetside. Different assault groups punched towards the space elevator. Multiple squads engaging all intertwining into a chaotic chorus.

The Dûr'ashaarai surged against its restraints as its hunger intensified. Its need slamming into her harder now that blood had been spilled. CT-312’s jaw tightened. Feeling its urge to run and tear. To be seen. “Not yet.” She murmured. “Hold.” Her jaw began to ache as she forced herself still. The familiar pull toward close violence stirred. Insistent. Begging to be let loose. CT-312 inhaled, grounding herself as she reached to her side. Releasing a slicer droid. The small unit skittered forward into the fighter’s access port.

As it interfaced, BARCA pinged. Data spikes appeared across her HUD as the ship’s systems began to sync itself and with her Halcyon Armour.

[ BARCA ]
[ Link established ]
[ Combat heuristics syncing… ]

Moments later the fleet reports changed. Diarchy and Mandalorian forces were fully engaged. From the Scouts distant vantage point, she watched as a Diarchy cruiser dropped out of hyperspace directly inside the opposing formation. There was no warning. The ship detonated. A few starfighters vanished, damaging frigates and nearby cruisers. The Dûr'ashaarai’s drove its will into CT-312’s mind.

Now.

She didn’t hesitate. “Now—”

The fighter moved forward before the word finished leaving her mouth. Thought and motion collapsed into the same instant. Engines flared as G-forces slammed into CT-312’s body, pinning her into her seat. Her vision narrowed, breath forced sharp from her lungs as the stars stretched and snapped back into focus. Accelerating toward one of the Diarchy’s War Forges, a massive node anchored into the defense network around Yaga Minor.

“We’re not engaging yet, Caligo.” The ship answered by listening. As the station loomed in her view, the wraithphase cloaking mantle activated. A stealth field making the fighter vanish for a brief moment, vanishing from sensors and sight alike. CT-312 scanned the structure. ‘There.’

An exterior airlock. Half-shadowed beneath a plating overhang. “BARCA.” Overrides rippled through the fighter’s system as the slicer droid executed its task. Magnetic restraints disengaged. The clamps released with a dull thunk as the Pred-X battledroids dropped free. Anger and resentment flared through the bond at the hatch being forced open by BARCA. “I know.” It’s thirst for battle, raging. “Later.” The cloak disengaged as the cockpit hatch opened.

CT-312 kicked free. Halcyon thrusters firing in short controlled bursts as she caught the airlock’s handholds. Another slicer droid was already moving, scuttling toward the access panel. The airlock cycled, opening. Soon the Pred-X units flowed inside first. Silent and predatory. CT-312 glanced back at her ship. “Don’t bully them too hard.”

The cockpit sealed shut. In a blink, the Dûr'ashaarai peeled away. Its living blade hull angled just enough to kiss the station’s outer plating. Durasteel screamed as it was scored. Not enough to breach, but just enough to draw attention. Then the fighter cloaked again and vanished, carrying the Diarchy’s attention with it.

—

Inside the War Forge Station was quiet. But not calm.

BARCA flagged incoming data bursts. A propaganda feed surged through open channels. Footage of the destruction earlier on was repurposed into accusation, exposing the Diarchy for sacrificing its own citizens as shields. Moments later, a counter-transmission played. As more reports followed, reinforcement fleets inbound. Ground forces receiving support. BARCA continued to stay alert and filter out comms. Beneath the noise, a thought surfaced on its own. One CT-312 did not need a reminder of.

The Queen and Warden of Eshan was here. Here… Somewhere in this chaos. Realization left a tight empty pressure in her chest. A silent reminder that the Princess, Quinn Varanin was moving toward places CT-312 could not follow. Distance layered atop distance. What happened on Coruscant had already stretched that gap further. The Princess didn’t know she was here, fighting in the same war under a different banner.

CT-312 didn’t know much about Eshan, only fragments of what Quinn had spoken to her about. But even that had been enough for the Scout to know that Eshan mattered. Deeply. That was reason enough. CT-312 would stand with the Mandalorians to protect Eshan, to keep it out of Diarchy hands, even if the Queen never knew.

Corridors stretched out in harsh angles and cold light. CT-312 moved carefully. Two of the Pred-X took point as the other two trailed behind, covering approaching lanes. They halted as she stopped at a control access panel beneath a security camera, deploying two more slicer droids.

“BARCA. Link up. Access feed and pull schematics.”

[ BARCA ]
[ Camera feeds… Complete ]
[ Station’s Schematics… Incomplete ]
[ IN PROGRESS ]

Not ideal, but workable.

CT-312 remained on stand-by while BARCA completed its task. Her grip tightened on the Assault Carbine Mk. II. Rifle tight against her shoulder. Muzzle tracking each corridor entry point with her stance compact and ready. Her focus was sharp and unblinking, listening and watching. Prepared to fire the instant the station gave her a reason. The Pred-X droids positioned themselves around the Scout, covering her as CT-312 waited, rifle ready.

 

[Siv Kryze]

.​

YAGA MINOR ORBIT - SANTHE-SIENAR SHIPYARDS​

ME: Jonah Tess Hanna Tyr Mereel Avast Verd
DIA: The Shroud Knight Trace Xyston Kallous Eirys Santhe

Engaging: The Shroud Knight Shyra Calipsa

The fog thickened, clinging to the corridor in rolling sheets as Siv adjusted his stance. The yellow glow ahead cut through it in brief, violent flashes—enough to track, enough to measure distance. Too close to Hanna.

He caught her voice clean through the haze, filtered and compressed but steady despite the pain riding under it.

"Copy," Siv answered, low and even. "I'm on you."

A short, controlled ignition of the jetpack carried him laterally, boots striking durasteel with a heavy clang as he reinserted himself between blade and ally. Not a retreat. A correction. A denial of space. He widened the spacing just enough, dragging the pressure sideways and up, forcing the engagement away from her line without ever disengaging.

"Moving," he added, already adjusting his vector. "Do it."

The spear snapped fully into its extended length as he brought it up, beskar haft meeting the lightsaber in a grinding shriek. Not iron. Not steel. Beskar biting against kyber. Sparks skittered across the deck plates as Siv leaned into the bind, Force-enhanced strength reinforcing the moment, then broke contact before the blade could slide and ride the shaft.

Another presence registered at the edge of the fog—different cadence, different intent. Logged. Acknowledged. Not answered.

A stun discharge cut through the haze, close enough to prickle across his armor. Siv didn't turn. He compensated instantly—jetpack flaring in a brief burst that pushed him forward and slightly up, landing hard to collapse distance. The spear came around in a tight, horizontal check, not to kill but to control, snapping the saber's attention back onto him and nowhere else. The phoenix engraving along the blade pulsed faintly as he moved, demanding commitment from the opponent.

Ion wash grazed his armor. Systems flickered, stabilized. The recall mechanism stayed dormant.

Siv advanced one measured step at a time, nimble despite the weight of beskar, never overextending, never giving ground. Short hops. Tight arcs. Every movement carved out a buffer in the fog, shrinking the corridor around the blade and keeping it anchored on him where it belonged.


Whatever Hanna had planned, he'd buy the seconds she needed.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Owl-type Beskar'gam
• Spear of Longinus (Beskar Spear)
• 2x WESTAR-35 blaster pistol

 

[Tyr Mereel]

Avast Verd | Tarn Ekkard​

The corridor shifted.

Tyr saw it in the rhythm of the fire.

This wasn’t scattered security anymore. This was formation.

Through smoke and sparks, he caught the gleam of interlocked shields locking edge-to-edge, a disciplined line advancing at a measured pace. Behind it, rifles braced, muzzles steady. Civilian bodies dragged to safety in the wake of the wall.

Professional.

Good.

Tyr pivoted fully toward them, boots grinding against scorched deck plating as he planted himself in the center of the lane. The rotary blaster cannon screamed back to life, barrels spinning into a furious blur.

He opened up.

The barrage hammered into the shield wall in a sustained torrent of plasma. Bolts splashed against the interlocked barrier in violent ripples of light, the air filling with ozone and the roar of sustained fire. He walked the stream across the formation deliberately, moving from left to right, then right to left, trying to slow their advance and forcing their riflemen to adjust.

Return fire slammed into him in response.

Multiple bolts struck his chest, shoulders, and thigh in rapid succession. Beskar flared and sparked, kinetic force driving into him like hammer strikes. Tyr absorbed it with a grunt, one knee flexing as he held the lane, letting their focus lock onto him.

Let them shoot.

Tyr cut the rotary cannon and stepped back hard into partial cover behind a torn support strut, armor still smoking faintly from impacts. He slung the cannon against his mag-harness in one practiced motion and reached to his belt.

Stun grenade.

His thumb primed it without hesitation.

“Shield wall, center mass,” he growled over comms, voice steady despite the incoming fire chewing at the edge of his cover.

He leaned out just enough to clear the angle and hurled the grenade low, skimming it across the deck toward the interlinked formation.

It bounced once. Twice.

Then detonated.

A concussive pulse and blinding burst erupted directly in front of the advancing wall, light flooding their optics, sonic shock hammering into shield generators and helmet systems alike.

Tyr didn’t wait to see the full effect.

He ripped the rotary cannon back into his hands, stepping out of cover as the barrels began spinning again, visor locked onto the disruption in their line.

“Push now!” he barked.

And he unleashed another barrage into the stunned formation, determined to shatter the wall before it could reform.

 

[Korda Veydran]

A few of the Diarchy grunts found their courage all at once.
They broke from cover and rushed him head-on, shouting over the roar of nearby fires, rifles raised, boots splashing through ash and melted slag.


Korda welcomed them.
He lowered his center of gravity and met their charge with brutal simplicity.
The makeshift shield came up first.
He drove it forward like a battering ram.


The impact was awful. a hollow, metallic boom that echoed down the ruined street. The first trooper went flying backward into another, both collapsing in a tangled heap. Korda followed through with his shoulder, plowing straight through the staggered line, forcing them apart with raw momentum and beskar mass. he used the make shift sword to cleave a few in half, screams short lived before the threw it like a throwing axe. finding its mark pinning a trooper to the wall behind them, they barely had time to scream. this brought a feral smile to his face.


For a heartbeat, the DAF line faltered.
Then the rest opened up.
Blaster fire stitched across the street in angry red lines, bolts slamming into his armor and sparking off the shield. Korda turned sideways, absorbing what he could, but the volume of fire drove him back. He pivoted and dove behind the remains of a collapsed wall, stone and rebar providing just enough cover as shots chewed into the rubble around him.


He exhaled hard.
His HUD lit up with warning icons. His side still burned where the bayonet had barely missed earlier. His lungs dragged smoke with every breath.
He reached to his belt by instinct.
Concussion grenade.
Nothing.


His hand swept again.
Still nothing.
His jaw tightened.
"…karabast," he growled under his breath.


For a moment, pure irritation flared hot in his chest. He slammed a fist into the broken wall, dislodging chunks of masonry.
Then his visor flicked to his ammo readout.
Ashen Maw. Sniper configuration.


APHE slugs.
The realization hit like a switch being thrown.
A feral grin crept across his face, unseen beneath the helmet.
"Oh," he rumbled softly. "That'll do."


He mag-locked the makeshift shield to his forearm, shouldered the Ashen Maw, and thumbed the selector. The rifle reconfigured with a mechanical whine, barrel stabilizers deploying, internal systems shifting for long-range, high-impact fire.


He leaned out just enough to sight in.
The first grunt had barely time to turn.
BOOM.
The report of the Ashen Maw in sniper mode was deafening, a thunderclap that punched through the smoke and rubble alike. The trooper dropped instantly.


Korda didn't pause.
He flowed to the next target.
BOOM.
Another went down.


The DAF line started to unravel, panic creeping into their movements as they scattered for cover that no longer mattered.
Korda advanced a step, bracing against the ruined wall, methodical now.
BOOM.
A third fell.


Each shot echoed through the shattered streets like a hammer striking an anvil. The recoil rolled through his armor. The impacts sent defenders sprawling or collapsing behind sandbags.


Some tried to run.
That only made it easier.
Korda tracked them with slow, deliberate precision, laughing as he fired.


Not loud laughter.
Not wild.
Just a low, mocking rumble that carried over the battlefield.


"Run," he called out through his external speakers. "Run faster."
BOOM.
Another runner dropped.


He swept the area once more, picking off the last of the scattered defenders until the space around the LO-25 fell quiet except for distant fires and the whine of damaged machinery.
Silence settled in heavy waves.


Korda lowered the Ashen Maw slightly and looked up at the AA battery.
Twin barrels. Reinforced housing. Ammo feeds exposed along the side.
He rolled his shoulders, feeling the ache in his joints, the fatigue creeping in under the adrenaline.
Then he straightened.


"That's right," he murmured to himself. "Now it's just you and me."
His gaze hardened behind the visor as he began moving toward the battery, already calculating placements, blast radius and escape routes.
Behind him, smoke curled through empty streets.
Ahead of him waited steel.
And Korda Veydran intended to tear it apart.

Tags: open

 

[Liorra]

Mia Monroe | Morta Izanami
​

Liorra would've been fortunate to have heard anything Mia had said. As she, Lio and the basilisk they were aboard dropped from the heavens the debris of the Lucrehulk screaming toward the dirt thousands and thousands of meters below. Lio focused on the debris, focused on their heat, ah there it was the thermals she used the Force to heat them. Aided by gravity itself as heat and friction built up guiding these white hot metal slags toward the trenches. "Attention shoppers, we're having a clearence sale!" She shouted as the slags hit with precision.

The young woman's violent trance was broken when Mia spoke Mando'a to her. Rather it had been what she said, kill a witch. Lio responded, shouting to be heard really over all the noise, "shi ceratir ni it turjilyi'r, vod".

​

 

[Zinayn]

OBJ3
Engaging: Dreidi Xeraic

The Harbinger of Balance made a glancing strike against Dreidi as she pivoted away from the worst of it. The suddenness of Zinayn's attack would have killed other opponents, but this Zorren had considerable speed. Green light flared to life in his peripheral vision, and he quickly realized that his robe had been set aflame. At the same time, he felt the ground change beneath him. His feet would not respond to his attempts to move. Quicksand. Reacting swiftly, he flung his outer wear off and towards his opponent's face. His main aim was not to burn her with her own fire, but to hide himself from her for a second as he figured out a way to escape the quicksand.

Zinayn doubted that trying to jump out of the changing ground would work. He'd learned once (the hard way) that calm and slow movements were the key to getting out of quicksand. Unfortunately, faced with a fast and vicious enemy, the Chiss had no time to displace himself the right way. Still, he would not resort to a panicked burst of the Force, which would likely make the quicksand much more dangerous. While his cloak was traveling through the air and hopefully obscuring the witch's vision of him, Zinayn extended a free hand and manipulated the individual grains of mineral around his trapped feet. Controlled vibrations ran through the hazard, temporarily freeing him.

Then the burning clothing hit the ground, and he released his power over the sand and moved out. However, the quicksand seemed to have no intentions of letting him go so easily. His left foot planted on the firm ground behind him, but the hazard moved with great motivation to recapture his right foot. The motion caught Zinayn off balance, sending him tumbling backwards as he broke the grip of the ground. He managed to keep his calculating gaze on Dreidi most of that time, though the moments where he was facing away from her in his tumble could be exploited by a skilled, and especially fast enemy. Now, though, Zinayn felt the power of the Force enhancement on his inner robes, as if it were lightening a heavy burden.

So far the battle had been an even match. But perhaps Zinayn's full agility could tilt the scales in his favor.

 

[Kallous]

​

Tags: Quinn Varanin

It was utter chaos, numerous breaches from numerous places. Not a surprise. Kallous firmly believed that no plan survived contact with the enemy. He had a general idea of where he wanted most of the Mandolorian forces to be, and they seemed to be doing a decent enough job of at least keeping a small majority of their general forces in that area, creating a sort of killzone meant to thin their numbers quickly. Though he also knew that Mandalorians had a tendency to field a large number of the more skilled, more tactically savvy and overall more intelligent individuals on a battlefield. Which were liable to circumvent and bypass his zone of death with relative ease. And that was why he had smaller contingents of individual, more autonomous units throughout the ship that were communicating back to him and the rest of the command squad he had manning the central tower.

Thankfully for him his foresight was paying off well enough. His Storm Detachment was using their specialized gear to great effect. Beskar protected well against most weapons. But his men packed enough punch to make that advantage a painful one to have. And that equalizing factor had been proving enough to make this fight a good one. Thus far it was unclear who was winning and who was losing, the chaos of war tended to be that way, he wasn't allowing himself to stress. That did nothing for him, all he could do was focus on the task at hand, and that was conduct the battle as best he could and ensure that this station didn't fall into enemy hands.

And to destroy it if it did.

There were some reports over their communications about some squadmates supposedly turning on their fellows. Others reporting strange reactions that didn't sound like shell shock. It wasn't clear what was happening, but Kallous found himself preparing himself to deal with an unidentified foe.

"Take command Colonel. I will see to these anomalies." Kallous ordered, "My gut tells me they are something rather bothersome."

Kallous would be proven all too right. A presence that had once been a whisper grew into a scream, all of a sudden Kallous felt the woman beneath him. Her hate was palpable as she gathered the force around herself and began to crush the command platform. Kallous used the force to throw the command squad clear before the suspended area came crashing down with him still on it. No matter, it was a simple matter to twist midair and land on his feet, many long years of experience and practice had resulted in this being second nature.

After landing he stood upright, standing sideways to the woman who had come searching for his master. He brushed the dust from his epaulettes, before relaxedly clasping his hands behind him, and finally turning his head to face the woman. Giving her an appraising look with a calm that did not come naturally to anyone. A sith, no doubt, the demeanor was a dead giveaway. She appeared to be more sorceress than fighter, he was not knowledgeable about the more esteric powers of the force, but he was exceptional with the blade. By his assessment as long as he was able to close the distance and not get caught up in whatever magiks she threw his way, this fight favoured him.

He could only hope he wasn't wrong. He looked inward for a brief moment, I am one with the Force and the Force is with me. Then he addressed the woman directly, he had the impression, that he was not her real target. And he was curious if she was one of those Sith prone to monologue. Or if she was one of those more interested in actually getting the job done without much drama.

"And you are?"

 

[Cora]

OBJECTIVE 3 - VJUNHOLLOW
Allies: DIA | Enemies: ME​

Spoiler: INVENTORY

Cora's lightsaber
Her master's old lightsaber
LO-20D Rifle
LO-58A Standard Operational Gear

​

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________​

Destruction and death consumed Yaga Minor.

Thunderous booms rang out as ordnance and shrapnel rained down upon the city. New craters were being formed by the second. Buildings crumbled and fires erupted in their wake. Thousands of civilians fled in a blind panic. Leaving behind their possessions and treasures, their entire lives. Bodies of the innocent lay sprawled in the streets, those who weren’t quick enough to flee left behind to be forgotten in the fires of war.

It was the screams that got to her. They were haunting. No amount of training could truly prepare someone for that.

Cora held herself together. Stifling back the agony that welled within her, and the want to go and save each and every civilian. She knew she couldn’t, there were far too many. And her mission was clear. She was in the thick of it now.

The Ash Dogs held the perimeter on the South side of the tower. Their tight defensive formation proved difficult for the Mandalorians to pierce through. Mandalorian warriors, of House Verd from the looks of the insignia bore on their armour, were a fairly even match against the elite soldiers of the Lilaste Order. Each side traded blows.

A troop took a critical hit beside Cora and collapsed. She returned fire on the Mandalorian to swiftly avenge her fallen squadmate. Then she picked off another. And another. Each round forming a sharp, rhythmic percussion. The Ash Dogs held strong, and the opposing Mandalorians were unable to advance. That’s when the order was given. “Send her in.”

With a sharp nod of her head to her commander, Cora vaulted over the barricade she had been using as cover, weapon raised and firing at their enemy. With her entire squad providing cover fire, she was able to advance toward the group of Mandalorians. She was methodical with her movements, ducking and weaving through their shots, diving into cover when she needed to. As she came within striking distance, that’s when she holstered her blaster and revealed her lightsaber. The crimson blade ignited mid-air as she landed with a vertical strike on the nearest Mando.

Beskar armour did indeed provide some protection against her blade. But every suit of armour has a weak spot. Cora knew hers well, and was careful to position herself in such a way that it was always well protected. The Mandalorians, however, had a tendency to think themselves invulnerable in their beskar best. She adjusted her stance, redirected her momentum, and struck again. The Mandalorian before her soon fell. And then the next. And the next. The air smelt of hot iron and smoke as her lightsaber danced and they fell one by one at her feet.
Then she saw them.

Through drifting smoke and shattered structures, a handful of civilians lay trapped beneath some rubble. Twisted durasteel pinned them in place. A child cried out, clinging tightly to an injured woman as the debris continued to settle around them.

The cries of agony pierced through her focus. Cora turned immediately and sprinted toward the trapped civilians. She cut through the debris carefully with her blade, ignoring incoming fire and enraged command chatter alike.

The squad can hold their own. She thought to herself.

She worked carefully to free the trapped civilians. When she finally reached them, the woman looked up at her with exhausted, desperate eyes and pushed the child toward her with trembling hands.

“Take him,” she whispered.

Cora caught the boy and lifted him free. As she did, the full extent of the woman’s injuries became clear. Crushed ribs, internal bleeding.Cora knew what it meant. She wasn’t going to make it out of here alive.

The mother met Cora’s eyes as she took one final breath. That look. Cora had seen it before. It was the same look of acceptance her master had given her as they fell.

Stunned, Cora hesitated. The young child grappled with her grip, reaching back toward his mother. She pulled him in close to her chest, and gave a knowing nod to the woman as the light left her eyes.

Cora knew she couldn’t return to the front line with the boy in her arms, so she darted away down the next street to find a place to hide him while the fighting continued without her. Settling him into a safe spot, she radioed for a med assist at their position. “Stay here. And stay quiet.” She instructed the boy, holding one finger up to her lips to hush him as she pulled the door closed between them.

She couldn’t leave him without protection. She also couldn’t stay away from her squad for too long. It was her duty to fight alongside them and hold the line. But it was also her duty to protect the Diarchy and to its people.

She lingered there for a moment too long, lost between two sides of the same coin. Distracted and vulnerable.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

TAGS: Dral Kar'taal​

 

[Morta Izanami]

​

[]

Disobey - by ODDKO

​

Location: Vjunhollow, Industrial - Capital of Yaga Minor
Objective: Defend
Tag: Open
Allies: DIA
Enemies: ME
Direct: Mia Monroe ... Liorra

The witch tilted her chin skyward, still perched as pretty as you please upon the chest plate of the unfortunate Mando beneath her, as though he were no more than a cushioned stool set out for her leisure.

Above them the skies had turned traitor; great slabs of burning metal shrieking down through the clouds like banshees robbed of mercy. They came howling and spinning, smashing through rooftops and towers, shattering glass into glittering rain.

The trenches below, thick with Diarchy soldiers, took the cruelest share of it; iron thunder falling straight into their trenches and defense barricades, sending up plumes of concrete, metal, flame, and screaming men. Here and there a stray hunk of wreckage found a pocket of advancing Mandalorian fighters, scattering them like startled crows, collateral damage dealt by the blind hand of fate.

She gave a soft, amused hum, tapping two fingers idly against the helmet beneath her as another distant impact rolled through the streets. "More's the pity," she sighed, leaning down as if confiding a secret. Then, with scandalous sweetness, she pressed a kiss to the cold beskar brow. "Maybe we can finish this another time, love?"

Up she sprang in one fluid motion, cloak and dark locks of black and white lifting in the heated wind. Without so much as a backward glance, she stepped clean off the building's ledge; dropping into the open air with the easy grace of a dancer trusting the music to catch her.

The Force took her like invisible hands, slowing her fall, and from her descent she beheld the carnage in full; the streets cratered and burning, trenches torn open like wounds, soldiers scrambling in wild disarray as the last of the skyfall hammered the ground.

She touched down light as mist upon the broken stone, hands on her hips, eyes bright with wicked delight. "Well now," she called to no one in particular, her voice a lullaby with comic cheer, "that's rather impressive, so it is, definitely trumps the phrase 'two birds, one stone.'"

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Allies: Aselia Verd || Opp: Null 7 | 'Sentinel' Janius Everwall

Her foe was fast. Idly Adelle wondered if they were perhaps Mirialan or Kyuzo as she kept up her assault. Maybe even one of the Vampirika. But their taking cover behind the buildings structural pillars was problematic. Granted, if she took them out, she was not only taking out her cover but making the building weaker as well. And she could hear groans from the higher levels already.

So far, they hadn’t been advancing. Just ducking from cover to cover.

Adelle clicked her tongue in annoyance. Aselia had engaged the convoy with their two war droids and here she was throwing rocks at one person.

Granted, the Verd was a walking tank herself but still. The principle.

She flung two chunks of duracrete at different angles at the space behind the pillar the soldier currently took cover behind, one after the other in quick succession. Adelle called a thermal det to her other hand and threw it towards the pillar. She didn’t need it precise. Explosions weren’t made to be precise.

Adelle brought her plasma shield up over her face and braced as the shockwave blasted existing debris, shards scratching through the paint on her armor. The explosion obliterated the pillar and the structure within a 5 meter radius. The building groaned loudly, dust and more debris falling from the floor above.

She set a stasis field in front of her as she grabbed her assault rifle from its holster, intending to keep the pressure up if the enemy had escaped the blast.

The building shook again as Lucrehulk debris landed nearby. Well, she could add destabilizing a building to her list of questionable life choices.

 

['Sentinel' Janius Everwall]

Objective III: Escort the Convoy
Supporting Units: Nearby Artillery, Possible CAS/CAP, Marius Hayes, Null 7
Opposition: Adelle Bastiel Aselia Verd
Forces: The Iron Creed 1st and 2nd Squads

The fire from the Cataphracts and Mud Waders wouldn't halt, even as Verd's Mech attempted to flank their formation. Just before the Sonic Weaponry would be activated, two Gravemarks would ram into the legs of the mech from behind, firing their main cannons at the main body in sequence. The two rockets fired by the Mandalorian would be quickly removed by the Laser Defense systems mounted on these Main Battle Tanks.

"COMITATUS! AD PRIMAM ACIE CONTACTE DUM NOS MINA REMOVEMUS! DUO CURRUS ARMATORUM ET TRACTORUM RELINQUITE!"

With some afforded room, three tanks and four Triple A trucks would speed around the falling mech and Infantry formation, racing away..

"FRATRES ET SORORES! INVENITE ILLUD PILOTUM INTERFECTOREM ET EIUS EXISTENTIAM E PRAESENTIA NOSTRA REMOVITE!"

Four men from the Cataphracts squad would rush for the Mech, searching for Verd..

​

[Cataphracts]

Armor Integrity	User Health	Armor data	Weaponry Data
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-20DLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-20DLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-20DLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-20DLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-40RLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-40RLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-40RLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-40RLO-22SLO-10M

[Mud Waders]

Armor Integrity	User Health	Armor data	Weaponry Data
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-20DLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-20DLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-20DLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-20DLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-40RLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-40RLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-40RLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-40RLO-22SLO-10M

---

Objective: Avenge our Angels
Supporting Units: Nearby Artillery, Possible CAS/CAP
Opposition: Korda Veydran
Forces: The Iron Creed 4th Squad

Crusader and Iron Wall were less than a minute away from the Angels' position, then, a thunderclap would be heard in the distance..Then another, then a distress signal..Then another Thunderclap. A Paladin would approach the cockpit of the gunship.

"Vola nos super Signum."

With a small nod, the Pilot throws the aircraft slightly, aligning it with the Anti-Aircraft that was already long rid of defenders by Korda.
Though, it mattered little. Within seconds, all eight members of the Iron Walls would slam themselves into the ground as the Gunship flew over, rerouting once again to the Angels.

The Paladin of the squad would stand, look around for a few moments before locking onto Korda. A lone Mandalorian, an imposing one, one that was too close to where the Angels were.

Anger was all Paladin Kate would hold.

"MANDALORIANUS!"
Nearly every single Iron Wall would raise their weapons and fire at Korda, Miniguns and Rifles. Two Riflemen would holster their rifles and charge at the Mandalorian with a sword and pistol each.​

[Iron Walls]

Armor Integrity	User Health	Armor data	Weaponry Data
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-20DLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-20DLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-20DLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-20DLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-40RLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-40RLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-40RLO-22SLO-10M
▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮	T-6 PACA	LO-40RLO-22SLO-10M

---

Objective: Evacuate our Angels
Supporting Units: Nearby Artillery, Possible CAS/CAP
Opposition: N/A
Forces: The Iron Creed 3rd Squad

Norbert Oro
As the Gunship lands, the entirety of Crusader rush out to Norbert and his men, some setting up a basic security circle as the rest huddle around the severely injured to shelter them in Iron.

A familiar person would approach Sariel directly, Paladin Marc removes his helmet, placing it under their arm.

"Munus tuum perfectum est, fratercule, vulneratos domum reducere debemus... Decem tantum estis?"​

 

[Warpriest Prime]

​

O B J E C T I V E | Objective III
L O C A T I O N | Yaga Minor Space Elevator
G E A R | Gjallerhorn | Crown of Blades | Crownsplitting Thorn

Aether Verd | Adelle Bastiel | Korda Veydran | Aselia Verd | Itzhal Volkihar | Persephone Halcyon

Diarch Reign | Gavin Vel

O P E N​

Azure flame crawled across the shattered deck as Dima lingered at the edge of the chaos, content for half a breath to simply watch. Aether and Reign were already locked in their wicked exchange, blades and wills colliding, and for a moment the Warpriest allowed herself the indulgence of judgment. She measured their movements, the cadence of the fight, the truth beneath the posturing.

Her gaze drifted.

There, close at Aether's side, stood the woman wreathed in spiraling force, energy folding and refolding around her like a living sigil. Persephone Halcyon . The name surfaced with a faint click of recognition. Whatever she was doing, it was deliberate, focused, dangerous. Dima's eyes narrowed, curiosity blooming sharp and bright, filing the sight away for later. Power like that was never incidental.

Then she felt it.

The stare.

Not fear. Not awe. Something heavier. Angrier. Like a blade pressed between her shoulders.

One of Reign's dogs. Big. Bald. Built like a duracrete wall that had learned to hate. Dima squinted at him, head canting slightly as the memory teased at the edge of her mind. The longer they held eye contact, the more his posture coiled, violence tightening through him like a wound pulled shut too fast.

"Hm," she rumbled, voice low and amused. "Rellik? Is that you? Don't remember you being so… buff." Diarch Rellik

The moment stretched, then snapped.

Steel sang. Energy screamed. Recognition hit her a heartbeat too late and she laughed as it did, a sharp, delighted sound that bared every tooth along her jaw. Gavin Vel , Of course it was. Old pride. Old wounds. Old humiliation coming back hungry!

He leapt.

Good.

"Oh how the gods bless me with such fine flesh," Dima growled, reverence and hunger tangled together as she reached up and tore her cloak free in one violent, fluid motion. She snapped it outward just as he came down, the heavy fabric billowing wide like a matador's cape, snapping and cracking in the light. At the last instant she shifted aside, drifting her weight with brutal grace, letting the cloak swallow his sight and momentum both.

"Olé!" she barked, joy bright in her voice.

As he landed, she twisted, flinging the entire cloak straight into his face, denying him vision and balance in the same breath. Her other hands were already moving. She wrenched Haskorn free from the deck, the lance tearing loose with a scream of tortured metal, and swung it in a wide, crushing arc.

The body impaled upon its tip tore free under the force.

She sent it flying.

A broken, blood-slicked banner hurled straight toward Gavin, cast with all the casual cruelty of a priest offering proof of faith. She hoped he would bat it aside in fury. Hoped he would plow through it without hesitation. Hoped it would make him angrier.

Around her, the station answered. Azure-black thorns erupted from walls and floor alike, spiraling outward as splinters of glowing blackstone screamed through the air. Dima stepped forward into the storm she had made, shoulders rolling, stance open and inviting, daring him to close the distance again.

Come on, she thought, teeth clicking softly with anticipation.

"Show me somethin beautiful~" She cooed warmly, gesturing with her claws to lure him closer.

 

[Shyra Calipsa]

Objective: When Skies Fall - Protect the shipyards
Location: Santhe-Sienar Shipyards, Yaga Minor orbit
Allies: The Shroud Knight | Trace Xyston | Souls of the Lilaste order
Opposition: Jonah | Tessa Thayne | Avast Verd | Tyr Mereel
Direct Engagement: Hanna | Siv Kryze

The situation was difficult to assess for Shyra. Besides the cover of the "fog" there was the fact that none of the combatants appeared obviously an ally. The one thing she was sure of was that at the current state of affairs am she doubted that anyone affiliated with the Diarchy would have worn beskar onto the shipyards meaning she had one sure enemy.

Even through the eyes of a novice military mind, as things unfolded in front of Shyra it appeared she had guessed correctly when it came to the alliance of the other two. The skater and the beskar clad warrior were working in tandem and the other was their opposition. Any other conclusion would have required a grand conspiracy that would have been too much to waste on Shyra.

Her theory basically proven correct. Shyra regretted the use of a nonlethal initial volley. It wasn't as if her shots had made a clean hit anyways, but choosing stun bolts merely tickled the shields of the skater girl. At best perhaps she affected her balance.

Shyra quickly flipped her carbine from stun to kill and through silent thoughts she had her HUD tag friend and foe. As she started to position herself for further attacks the Mandalorian burst into action. They lunged between their partner and the cloaked figure and a game of strike and parry ensued. This gave the skater time to fire a volley of shots from her pistols.

It was far from the first time that Shyra had encountered slugthrowers, but each time it was a bit of a shock that a gun shot something other than energy. The time available was not enough to completely evade the shots. The hazy fog making it difficult to even tell where the projectiles were heading. At the last moment Shyra turned her body. One slug deflected off her breastplate causing a sharp intake of breath followed a moment later by a howl of pain as the other slug slammed full force into Shyra's inner left upper arm. The impact left the armorplast damaged in some capacity. Shyra would confirm that later.

The fog seemed to intensify. And Shyra decided to use that as a bit of cover. Instead of standing at her full height she crouched into the fog. Between the skates and the jet pack, Shyra didn't think matching speed of movement would be something she was able to do. And she really wasn't looking forward to testing her arm by using her vibro-lance in melee combat. That meant making herself small and taking shots from the perimeter of the action. With a deep sigh she put her sights on her enemies. She pressed the trigger in rapid succession. Two aimed at the feet of the skater and on at the head of the other warrior hoping that would not inhibit her ally's plans.

Spoiler: LOADOUT

• Formal Guard Armor
• Carbine Blaster
• Side Arm
• Orante Vibro-lance

 

[Korda Veydran]

The gunship's shadow rolled across the shattered street. Korda's laugh broke out before the miniguns even spun up. a low, throaty roar that twisted into something almost inhuman.


Rifle fire stitched the air around him. Sparks flew from concrete, twisted metal, and jagged rebar as bullets struck the street, ricocheted, and tore chunks out of abandoned walls. The makeshift shield he had grabbed from the ruins, a jagged, bent slab of steel with scorch marks and jagged edges. quivered with every impact. Metal groaned, sparks arced from point-blank hits, but it held, clanging in violent defiance.


He braced the Ashen Maw atop the shield. Sniper mode. AP-HE rounds loaded. He leaned into the recoil as the first slug thundered out, cutting the air like a cannon blast. One of the troopers went down, chest plate dented, staggered, their armor panel popping free like it had never been meant to hold against something like this. The trooper's momentum faltered, giving Korda a full, maddened grin behind his visor.


He lined up a second shot. Click. Nothing.
The spent casing had jammed.
"Of course," he growled.


He slapped the side of the receiver, tried to cycle it manually. The jam didn't budge. Incoming fire intensified, chewing deeper into his cover, rounds sparking off his shield in rapid succession.
He roared in pure frustration and set the Ashen Maw down hard beside him.


Korda didn't hesitate.
He charged.
The makeshift shield held out in front of him like a battering ram. Bullets ricocheted across it in showers of sparks. The first trooper tried to sidestep, swing a blade, and fire their pistol. All three failed. Korda's momentum was a freight train. The shield struck the first Iron Wall trooper in the chest, denting their armor and slamming them backward into their partner. The second trooper raised their weapon to fire.


Korda leaned forward, letting the momentum of his charge crush distance. He taunted as he closed, voice rising above the gunfire:
"Putasne armaturam tuam te servaturam esse?"
he shouted, each syllable harsh and sharp.
"In umbra Mandalore stas, et audes me convenire?"

The first trooper scrambled to rise, blade raised, trying to protect themselves. Korda planted the shield against the weapon arm and shoved with every ounce of strength. Sparks and metal screamed. The trooper's feet skidded, arms flailing.
"In igne natus sum!" Korda bellowed, voice echoing down the street. "tu? in eo morieris!"


The second trooper lunged with a sword, trying to flank him. The shield dented under the blow, but Korda twisted, catching the attacker's forearm against the steel. Pain flared through his shoulder, but he roared in laughter, a sound like shattering glass.
"Estan hoc totum quod habes?" he jeered. "Age nunc! Sta, aut cade, et tua ignavia cognatos tuos pudeat!"


He slammed the shield again, crushing the first trooper into rubble. The impact rattled bones, armor panels flexing violently. The first trooper went down, sprawling, gone. Korda kept the shield forward, planted his boots, and leveled a gaze at the remaining fighter.
"hic morieris, in umbra mandaloris" he snarled. "Et the in ignominia igne adere videbo!"


The second trooper circled, sword raised, pistol half-drawn, still unwilling to fire lest they strike their fallen comrade. Korda grinned inside the visor. That hesitation was exactly what he wanted. The battlefield went still for a heartbeat. Even the distant troopers behind the line froze, unwilling to risk friendly fire.


Korda's voice rose, almost theatrical now, filled with fury and madness:
"Aususne es me cum ferro in manu aggredi? Superbiam tuam e pectore avulsam priusquam finiam!"



He barreled forward, shield first, crashing into the remaining Iron Wall trooper. Steel bent. Armor squealed. Dust and ash rose around them like smoke from a funeral pyre. Korda rammed the shield into the trooper's chest, forcing them backward. He grabbed the sword hand with his left, wrenching, twisting, and shoved them off balance.


The pistol skittered out of their grip and across the rubble-strewn street.
Now it was just them, steel against steel, will against will, in a field of dust, ash, and sparks.
Korda's chest heaved, breath heavy but controlled. The makeshift shield felt light compared to the madness in his veins. His grin was feral, teeth bared behind the visor.


"Age!" he shouted, stepping closer. "Ostende mihi quanti valeat ferrum tuum haereticum! auto in cineribus amici tui defuncti the contere!"
And he pressed the charge, shield held like a battering ram, the unyielding madman of Mandalore closing the distance.

'Sentinel' Janius Everwall

 

[Norbert Oro]

The Angels of Meu
Allies - Diarchy and Lilaste forces
Support - Friendly FOB 1km away
Current Objective - Restore LO-25/AA battery, down the road
Location - Objective 3 City Ruins
Manpower - 20 Elite Infantrymen
Equipment - LO-20D, LO-44 MKII, LO-RPG20, LO-12S, LO-22S, Beskar Vibro-Bayonet, T9-XO Exo-Suit
Ammunition - LO-AP 19, LO-AVM 1
Current Element Status - 10 KIA, 8 wounded, 2 out of action.

Norbert was silent as we were lifted by his brothers. He was practically lost in a dream at this point. He felt nothing. Sariel looked at Paladin March and took a deep breath; he began to slowly remove his helmet. There was a worried look on his face that he was trying to cover up.

"Ita… possumus per rudera fodere ut alios inveniamus — sed vereor ne eis iam nimis sero sit. Octo habemus qui vulnerati sunt, et duos in ipso mortis limine. Solus sum qui vere efficaciter pugnare possim. Puto me hic manere debere tecum, frater."

The rest of the angels helped carry Norbert, Sarah, and each other into the gunship.

Allies: 'Sentinel' Janius Everwall
Opponents: Korda Veydran

 

[Lord Mettallum]

Enemies: Drego Ruus Korda Veydran Aether Verd Adelle Bastiel Aselia Verd Itzhal Volkihar Warpriest Prime Dreidi Xeraic
Allies: Diarch Reign Aknoby Souls of the Lilaste order 'Sentinel' Janius Everwall Norbert Oro Morta Izanami Gavin Vel Zinayn

Equipment: Iudicium, Mettallum's Maw, PSFE

Army Composition:

Spoiler

• 11th "Unbound" Legion/Metal Creed: 1x Legion Around 60,000 droids split into 10 cohorts of 6000 droids lead by a centurion. 70% Legionary Droids, 30% Phalanx Droids. 1st Cohort 70% Evocatus Droids, 30% Phalanx Droids.
• Body Guards: 2 GP Guardian Droids per centurion and 4 with Lord Mettallum.

Actions:

Spoiler

• 1st Cohort: Taken heavy casualties from EMP Mortar Rounds. Bayonet Charge towards the Warriors of Clan Ruus
• 2nd-10th Cohorts: Defending Positions, taking casualties from artillery
• Lord Mettallum: Disengaging from Drego Ruus and targeting his warriors.

In almost an instant hundreds of droids were wiped out, their neural cores forever wiped clean. Despite the fact Lord Mettallum's droids were all equipped with LO-VX Va'karis Shield System which had decent emp resistance there was a difference between the electromagnetic pulse of a small emp grenade and a mortar shell. Those droids that had time to react were able to take cover behind Phalanx units who readied their deflector and physical shields. Despite the bravery shown by those droids the moment the mortars rounds landed those same droids had their lights turned off permanently. Those droids that still stood charged head on towards the mandos, the droids that shield systems went down fell to the ion rounds.

Lord Mettallum had no time to mourn the loses as he increased in speed barreling towards Drego. hundreds of calculations flew across Lord Mettallum's mind as he tried to predict every possible action Drego could make. Lord Mettallum's thermals scanned every barrel of the walker to instantly alert Lord Mettallum of the moment they would start to fire while he mapped out all the angles the weapon systems could fire from. Lord Mettallum was sure nothing would take him off guard but once again Drego proved why he was becoming one of Lord Mettallum's most hated opponents.

At first Lord Mettallum thought his photoreceptors where bugging out when Drego ejected. Of the multiple of scenarios Lord Mettallum had calculated none of them had accounted for Drego ejecting before the walker was damaged. Once again Lord Mettallum was being made a fool of by this single Mandalorian. Lord Mettallum needed to think of a way to beat Drego and needed to quickly as alerts popped up warning about the incoming Ion Rockets. Lord Mettallum couldn't seem to beat Drego head on especially since Drego seemed to always have another trick up his sleeve so it was time to let go of his pride.

Lord Mettallum changed the direction he was facing, turning himself towards the Ruus warrior with the chainsaw and put his jump pack to full power. Such a sudden change of inertia didn't come without its cost as despite how well built Lord Mettallum was his body was not made to deal with such extreme and sudden movements. Lord Mettallum felt as multiple internal wires snapped free from the sudden force. It may have been better just to tank the Ion Rockets but it was now too late for regret. If Lord Mettallum couldn't kill Drego then he would kill every other warrior of Clan Ruus.