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

[Diarch Rellik]

Location: Santhe-Sienar Shipyards, Yaga Minor Orbit
Thread Objective: When the Sky Falls - Objective TWO
Mission Objective: Kill Mandalorians on the station. The tower is the main refugee and citizen escape portal.
Allies: N/A BUT I RIDE FOR MY DIARCHY
Direct Engagement: Itzhal Volkihar


The Blooded Seer Cloak snapped outward like a living thing as attacks came in from the Mando'a, black fabric flaring and curling around Pyrrhax's shoulders and the great span of his wings as they plunged through screaming air. Lightning still crawled along the Adar's scales, bleeding off into the storm of flak, blaster fire, and debris around them. With the blast the duo were wrenched sideways and down, wings buckling hard as the pressure wave tore through the void around the tower. The Adar screamed, a raw, furious sound, as the shock hurled them lower along the spine of the shipyard, the Diarch forced to clamp down with knees and reins alike.

Debris and fire rolled past in a violent wash, claws scraping briefly against the tower's outer structure before the Adar kicked free again. The blast carried them further than Rellik had anticipated but Pyrrhax's hull and Rellik's cloak were able to shield them for the most part. Only some light scorching on both.

Rellik looked up.

Above them, silhouetted against burning sky and drifting wreckage was his enemy. Rellik's screaming attack and momentum was gone but this is war, not a duel. With the piercing talons of the Adar Pyyrhax began a devastating leaping climb up. The chase was on, shadow after shadow, lightning and beskar.
The Diarch rose.


He pushed up out of his spurs, boots planting hard against the saddle as Pyrrhax stabilized beneath him, cloak whipping violently in the slipstream. He leaned forward, one hand tightening on the reins as the other steadied the Spear of the Star-Fallen King, its surface still humming with caged power.

For a heartbeat, it looked as though he meant to leap.

Itzhal Volkihar

INVENTORY:

• Single bladed Lightsaber - Conviction
• The Blooded Seer Cloak
• The Consul's Ward - Body Armor
• Spear of the Star-Fallen King
• LO-20D Weapons platform - Ammunition for the LO-20D - LO- AP/19
• Wears a Beige Tunic, Leather gloves/boots.
• Has a utility belt with some basic medical items where he sheaths his saber.
• Comlink
• Datapad
• Pyrrhax

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Lord Mettallum
Clan Ruus Personel:
30 Ruus Mandalorians in Akaanedee Walkers
​

As the droids charged, they quickly found out why Clan Ruus was drilled as hard as they were.

The simply face was, Drego trained every Mandalorian to be like him. Fearless, and brutally efficient. They met the charge head on, first by unloading their three grenade launcher rounds right into the horde to thin their numbers, followed by a heavy barrage of slug rounds, aiming for the heads of the droids that charged, before finally revving their chainsaws and meeting it head on. Bayonets met beskar, as the men called out to each other with a call in mando'a.

"At Parjai!"

All the while, their walkers, despite having no pilots, never stopped. Automatically loading mortars never ceased pounding the back line of the droid legions, as their Ion Heavy Blasters aimed for the shield wall. After another round of EMP mortars, the ion rain suddenly stopped, as a new munition was loaded.

Suddenly, the sky above the droid's defenses darkened, as airburst EMPs rained down once more.

That was, until the rain began. Artificial thunderstorms forming from the mortars, before a barrage of lightning crashed down onto the droid legions.

All 30 walkers firing in unison, slowly began to push forward.

All but one.

As Lord Metallum shifted his focus, Drego's walker tracked the hulking commander. Never did it's guns stop firing on him, as Tanya's targetting system kept a lock on him. As he blitzed towards one of Clan Ruus's warriors, Tanya aimed the side mounted cable launchers, and fired.

<Ve'ganir jaon olar!i!>

In conjunction, the Walker kicked it's right leg forward, activating it's underfoot magnets. Normally, these would be used to keep the 20 ton walker in place during boarding actions. Now it was being used to draw the droid into a massive kick.

And that didn't even take into account Drego himself. When Metallum changed trajectory, Drego couldn't help but laugh. That sort of morbid laugh you only hear from psychopaths and soldiers.

And yet, Drego never stopped. He flew his full trajectory, landed right in the middle of a droid bayonet charge, and without skipping a beat, activated his jump boots to launch himself right back at Metallum.

One. Two. Three.

Three grenades, HE fragmentation grenades, launched ahead of Drego. Right at the back of the droid commander. Impact Detonation, Enough Baradium in them to take down an imperial scout walker.

Drego intended to stomp Metallum like a stone cold killer.

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

| Location | Yaga Minor, Outer Rim Territories

High above the haunted expanse of Vjunhollow, where the atmosphere grew tenous, and each breath became a deliberate choice, the air shimmered with flickering blue and purple discharges, crackling like a restless storm. Blaster bolts tore through the tattered sky, flares of light swallowed beneath the flowing expanse of the blooded seer cloak, and pitted scales consumed in shadows that twisted and riled with the lighting that danced across the monstrous form of Phyrrax.

Searing light erupted across the canvas of night, a miniature sun drawn from its slumber in a radiant wave of shimmering heat and raw power. In the radiant haze, shrapnel descended from the heavens, pieces of the concussive missile falling to the world below, shattered by a falling colossus and the rage of an Empire that would tolerate no more.

Agony and confusion roiled through the air, a scream of pain that radiated through Itzhal's bones; yet, the Diarch's pet was not so easily killed as it spiralled downwards, claws scraping into the surface of the space elevator, alive and furious.

Itzhal stared down.

Below them, silhouetted in a ruined city and drifting wreckage was his enemy. Months ago, they'd stood united, client and contractor in a conflict against inhuman horrors—monstrous creatures and warped abominations that writhed to an orchestra of dread. This war was different. Heroes and Villains fought across both sides, lines drawn in the sand that neither could tolerate, brought to a conclusion that could only end in blood and tears.

Mandalorian souls splayed upon a feast of sin and betrayal, knives painted with clan symbols and plunged into unsuspecting backs. Did it matter that the offer had only been a test?

Mandalore's answer descended in brimstone and fire.

Itzhal braced against the footwelds, straps holding him against the sadistic grip of gravity, his arms raised as he caught sight of the Diarch's form shrouded by the stretch of Pyrrhax's neck and the breadth of their wings. His thumb pressed down on the selector switch attached to Oath and Honour's stocks, a soft click, near silent in the roar of thrusters and blistering wind that carried the roar of machine and beast-alike. A spark flared in the X-citer chambers, power flowing through both weapons, as Itzhal lined up the shot.

Titanic forces clashed in the beat of a lightning strike—flesh rended and tore from bone, metal screeched and bent inwards, mortal bodies flinched under the impact.

Itzhal pressed his body against the frame of his Basilisk War Droid, shrapnel flying past his visor and spurts of black oil; two colossi tearing into each other as one slammed into the other, a chaotic mess of metal and flesh. Tortured durasteel wailed, then tore asunder as the hull shattered under them, their twin frames pushing through the absence into the chamber of light and industrial might.

Pushing himself to stand, the straps attached to Itzhal's body broke away, the metallic clang of his boots the only thing keeping him connected to the swaying form of his war mount. He stepped forward, one step becoming two and quickly building momentum as he raised both blaster pistols and fired straight towards the Diarch's chest, the bolts crackling through the air, barely contained by the rapidly disintegrating containment envelopes.

Tags: Diarch Rellik
Inv: Basilisk War Droid Standard Inventory​

 

[Aether Verd]

Assets: Beskar'gam | Basilisk
Darksaber | Resolute Dawn​

SPACE ELEVATOR, YAGA MINOR

The opening salvo of brilliant missiles struck true, and the space elevator answered with agony. Detonations rippled through its innards in rapid succession, tearing open decks and conduits as if the structure were being flayed from the inside out. Upper levels shrieked as support rods snapped and severed, the sound carrying through the elevator’s spine like a dying animal’s cry. The monument to the Diarchy’s strength lurched, listing under its own wounded mass, hanging on by little more than stubborn inertia and failing systems. It would not endure much longer.

Aether stood amid the ruin with the Darksaber leveled, posture unbroken, presence absolute. Firelight washed over him in uneven pulses, sparks drifting past his armor as the air filled with smoke and scorched metal. Then his Executioner arrived.

Dima breached the elevator in a storm of righteous fury, her entrance violent enough to silence the structure itself for a breath. She planted her claim into the deck, turning devastation into declaration, and the space around her bent as if acknowledging the truth she carried. The gods demanded spectacle, and the elevator seemed to bow beneath the assertion.

Aether did not move to join her. He did not need to. His helm angled toward her just enough to acknowledge the moment, and he granted her the battlefield she had claimed. This was her work now, and it freed him to finish his own.

The snap-hiss of an igniting lightsaber cut through the smoke. An orange blade flared to life as the Diarch’s subordinate launched himself toward Dima in a reckless arc, intent on proving something before the gods she had just invoked. Aether watched only long enough to be certain the collision would not be his concern, then returned his full focus to the Diarch.

The Force surged.

A speeder-sized chunk of debris tore free from the wreckage and hurtled toward him, flung with brute intent and little finesse. Aether’s offhand rose in a smooth, dismissive motion, and telekinetic force erupted outward in a violent pulse. The debris was caught mid-flight and cast away, redirected with ruthless precision toward the orange-bladed attacker, its new trajectory a silent sentence passed by a king who had already moved on.

His Darksaber lifted again, poised to strike, when something else brushed his awareness.

Persephone.

Her presence touched his mind alongside the storm she was weaving above them, the atmosphere responding to her careful, solemn call. Winds gathered. Clouds thickened. The sky darkened as lightning began to crawl through the heavens, answering a gentler hand than his own. Aether remembered another moment, another sky, when they had held a storm at bay together to save Mandalorian lives.

This storm was different.

It was meant to break.

He felt her hesitation as clearly as the heat of the fires around him, felt her standing at the edge of an abyss she had never wanted to face. Her hands were those of a healer. She was never meant to be a killer, and he would not demand that sacrifice from her. Not now. Not ever.

Aether reached upward through the Force, not to override her, but to shoulder the burden she was carrying. His will threaded into the storm she had begun, infecting it with aggression and purpose, sharpening it into something final. Her light did not vanish, but it was stained with Mandalorian resolve, and the heavens answered in kind.

Thunder rolled.

Lightning split the clouds, stray bolts lashing against the elevator’s wounded form. Winds howled through broken corridors and exposed shafts, dragging smoke and ash into violent spirals as the structure groaned under the combined assault. The sky above Yaga Minor darkened further, heavy with inevitability.

Aether’s telepathic response slid into Persephone’s mind, steady and unyielding, carrying a promise forged in iron resolve.

<<You will not have to do it. I will bloody my hands so yours remain clean.>>​

His visor never left the Diarch, nor did his blade waver. Without breaking stance, he shifted his swordhand, angling his wrist downward. A single wrist rocket fired, screaming through smoke and fire toward the Diarch’s position, a compact declaration that the time for restraint had ended.​

Allies: Adelle Bastiel , Aselia Verd , Korda Veydran , Itzhal Volkihar , Warpriest Prime, Dreidi Xeraic , Liorra , Mia Monroe , Drego Ruus , Persephone Halcyon

Enemies: Souls of the Lilaste order, 'Sentinel' Janius Everwall , Diarch Reign, Norbert Oro , Aknoby, Morta Izanami , Zinayn , Gavin Vel, Null 7​

Spoiler: Summary

Directly Interacting with Diarch Reign, Gavin, Persephone, and Dima

• The salvo of missiles from Aether's Basilisk went uninterrupted, they explode within the Space Elevator, damaging it further.
• Dima arrives on the Space Elevator, Aether nods to her.
• Gavin leaps after Dima.
• Diarch Reign hurls debris at Aether, Aether redirects it after Gavin.
• Persephone begins building a storm, Aether adds to its build up.
• Stray lightning bolts and high winds begin to strike the Space Elevator.
• Aether fires a wrist rocket at Diarch Reign.

 

[Jonah]

The fog pressed in like a living thing as Jonah guided them forward, its chill sliding across beskar and cloth alike while the station trembled with distant detonations. Blasterfire echoed somewhere ahead, sharp and urgent, but Jonah did not chase it. He angled them sideways instead, letting chaos draw eyes forward while he carved a quieter path through the margins.

He glanced back just long enough to catch Tessa’s movement, the calm competence with which she tracked their route even as the world came apart around them, and something approving flickered behind his eyes.

“Good instincts.” he murmured, voice low and even, pitched only for her. “You fly like someone who plans to come home. Same rules apply on foot.”

He turned again, leading her down a narrowing service corridor where the walls gave way to exposed conduit and humming power trunks. The fog thinned here, pulled apart by ventilation systems struggling to keep up with emergency protocols, and the sound of combat dulled into a distant roar. Ahead, a sealed access door sat half-forgotten between coolant lines and armored cabling, its designation worn smooth by decades of hands that no longer came this way.

Jonah stopped in front of it and rolled one shoulder, the pack on his back shifting as his hand dropped to his utility belt. He drew out a compact security spike, its surface alive with faint, predatory light.

“This is our turnoff.” he said quietly. “Cover me.”

He drove the spike into the seam of the door with practiced precision. The metal resisted, then screamed as internal locks failed one by one. With a final surge of force through his arm, Jonah wrenched the panel free and stepped aside just enough to usher Tessa inside.

The room beyond was tight and utilitarian, racks of control hardware lining the walls, status lights blinking in anxious rhythms. The Relay Control Node hummed at its center, a hardened nexus where automated defenses whispered back and forth with the wider station. Jonah followed her in and sealed the door behind them, his gauntlet snapping controls until the locks engaged with a heavy, final clunk.

He turned, already moving, fingers flying as he interfaced the spike directly into the node’s exposed port. Streams of data cascaded across his HUD, the station’s nervous system laid bare in fragments and priorities.

“I don’t need the whole beast...” Jonah said, more to the machine than to her, his tone sharpening as focus narrowed his world. “Just the teeth between here and the Archives..."

His hands worked with ruthless efficiency. He ignored deep command layers, bypassed core authority, and instead slid into the automated subroutines that governed local defenses. Turret logic rewrote itself under his touch. Countermeasure thresholds shifted. Fire suppression protocols hesitated, then leaned toward his will.

Outside the room, systems began to misbehave. Turrets stuttered. Foam dispensers primed without cause. The station, battered and burning, could not tell the difference between sabotage and stress.

Jonah’s mouth curved into something thin and satisfied as the final permissions fell into place.

“There you are.” he said softly, a hint of heat creeping into his voice as control locked in. “I was starting to think you didn’t want to talk.”

He triggered the first layer.

Somewhere ahead, corridors filled with a sudden, violent hiss as fire suppression foam erupted in relentless torrents, blanketing armor, weapons, and floor alike in thick, ceaseless layers. Klaxons wailed over it all, declaring a cascading system error above Trace’s forces, just another failure in a station already drowning in them.

Jonah pulled his hand back from the node and straightened, the Force cloak still clinging to them like a held breath.

“Finally...” he said, voice steady, assured. “I’m getting somewhere.”

Little did the enemy know, the station’s defenses were no longer arguing among themselves.

They were listening to him.

Allies: Tessa Thayne , Siv Kryze , Hanna , Avast Verd , Tyr Mereel , Quinn Varanin
Enemies: The Shroud Knight , Trace Xyston , Kallous , Shyra Calipsa​

Spoiler: Summary

Directly engaging Tessa. Indirectly engaging Trace and his forces:

• Jonah and Tessa are Force cloaked and shielded. They move through the fog, slipping past Hanna, Siv, Shroud, and Shyra's engagement.
• They move into a service corridor and navigate to a relay control node.
• Jonah slices the control node, seizing control over local defenses and countermeasures.
• Jonah engages the fire suppression system, drenching Trace's forces in thick layers of flame retardant foam.

 

[Mia Monroe]

Spoiler: Equipment

Basilik
Armour
Shotgun
Blaster
Beskad
Knife

Spoiler: Tags

ME: Drego Ruus
Adelle Bastiel
Aselia Verd
Korda Veydran
Itzhal Volkihar
Aether Verd
Warpriest Prime

DIA: Lord Mettallum
Zinayn
Morta Izanami
Souls of the Lilaste order
Diarch Rellik
Diarch Reign
Marius Hayes
Norbert Oro
'Sentinel' Janius Everwall

Direct Tags: Liorra Morta Izanami

The force swelled around Liorra as she redirected chunks of Lucrehulk debris into the Diarchy trenches, fire and impact swallowing the front lines and giving ground for their own forces to move in. Violence thrummed in the force, death was dealt with efficiency and precision that only mandalorians could deliver. It was a steady drum in the force, a beat she had always walked to.

"Hiibir mhi daab." she murmured to the basilisk, taking her hands from the controls to reach back and tap Liorra’s arm, her finger pointing to the form of the witch dropping from a building into the midst of the smoking wreckage below. Without another word she shifted from her seat, dropping before the droid could reach the ground. The force didn’t slow her decent, her feet hit the ground hard, the ground rippled in response.

Mia stepped into the fray with calm but deadly intent, drawing the beskad from its hilt at her back. There was no fanfare, no word of warning, just a predator on the hunt, stalking through fire and smoke to find her quarry.

 

[Tessa Thayne]

Spoiler: Equipment

• Armour
• Primary Firearm
• Primary Blade
• Sidearm
• Knife

Direct Tag: Jonah
ME: Hanna Siv Kryze Avast Verd Tyr Mereel Quinn Varanin
DIA: The Shroud Knight Trace Xyston Shyra Calipsa Kallous


Tessa managed a tight smile beneath her helmet as his approval drifted back to her in a low tone. “Getting us home is my job, and I've never left a job incomplete.” Well, aside from the one Aether Verd busted her on, but that was neither here nor there.

Jonah led them away from the distant bark of blaster fire and rumbled explosions, picking a quieter route, off the main corridors and through compact service corridors that made her chest tight. She tried not to focus on it, instead focusing on him on the calm precise movements he made.

When he asked her to cover him, she turned, dropping to a knee and drawing the rifle from the mag lock on her back, its weight a comfort in her hands as she kept it and her eyes trained on the corridor behind them, trying not to think about how she could reach each wall without stretching her arms.

The hiss of a panel giving way was her signal to move, rising smoothly, rifle slipping back over her shoulder with a click as she stepped inside the compact room. She pressed her back to the wall, making room for him to get in, the door sealing behind him in a finality that made her stomach drop.

Tessa watched him work, reminding herself to breathe, the soft cadence of his voice cutting through the steadily rising panic just enough to keep it at bay. Even if he wasn’t talking to her.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

She was not going to have a panic attack in front of a Verd, if her life depended on it.

 

[Tarn Ekkard]

---

Location: Santhe-Sienar Shipyards, Yaga Minor Orbit
Thread Objective: When the Sky Falls
Mission Objective: Kill Mandalorians on the station. The tower is the main refugee and citizen escape portal.
Allies: N/A Directly
Direct Engagement: Tyr Mereel Avast Verd
​

---

A sustained torrent of plasma tore down the passage, hammering into the advancing shield wall with punishing force. Energy splashed and crawled across interlocked shields, generators shrieking under the strain. One Marine on the edge with no one behind him buckled under the strain, the impact of the bolts lifting him off his feet and throwing him backward several meters in a violent skid across scorched durasteel.

"TROOPER DOWN!" someone shouted.

The phalanx only tightened. Tarn for a brief moment shifted his head as quickly as possible to see the condition of the man and to his surprise a civilian had already begun tending to their wounds. A show of the Diarchy spirit being in all walks of life seeping through and filling Tarn with pride.

Returning his head forward his visor scanned as opponents ducked behind cover. Filtering his feed he wanted to see if any thermal readings were coming off behind the main two warriors. Only then for his eyes to be filled with the most blinding of light. His visor screen sheered in white followed by the reverberation of the banging itself. Closing his eyes and relying on his brothers as a base; he could tell all of them were trying to get their bearings.

Rattled but still in line it was only a moment later that a stun grenade hit them again. The concussive force taking the sturdy wall of troopers and giving them a slight rocking motion in their delirium.

Soft squeezes on the shoulders of the shield holders from the men in the firing line re-centered and balanced the warriors in the front. His men snapped in close, shields locking again, shoulders pressed tight. Tarn looked at the distance, the armor, the weapons trained on them.


They were outgunned.


So he changed the fight.

"They are nothing but criminals. Let us show them how we treat criminals. Hold tight, be strong, push forward, each man gets a limb."

The front line leaned in, shields braced not forward, but into the enemy. The second rank closed tight behind them, forearms planting against the backs of the shield bearers, boots digging in as one.

"MOVE!"

They surged. Toward the enemy, toward their fate together. Showing the same unified spirit as the civilian before.

---

"I am the Law."

• INVENTORY including Troopers.
• LO-VX Va'karis Shield System
• DAF Standard Legionary Combat Armor (S-LCA-1)
• DAF-19 "Vanguard" Rifle
  
  TARN ONLY:
• Myrmidon-Class Armor Phrik based with stealth plating and life-sign scanner
• "Whisperline" Breach Kit – grapple, cutter, and zero-sound detonation foam
• Vibro-Combat Knife"

---

 

['Sentinel' Janius Everwall]

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

Korda, mid-charge would feel something tug at the back of his chestplate, and before being able to register it...

"Fiducia."

Suddenly, Korda is flying through the air, then slammed into the ground, realizing he's now surrounded.
Two men grab at the shield, tearing away as four others kick and punch, within a few seconds Korda his being held up off the ground from his chestpiece, a Knight punches the Mandalorian a few times, aimed at their head, the helmet saving Korda however it'd begin to crack and break with those few punches, the Knight lets go, and just before Korda can counter, he is grabbed by his right arm and once again tossed into the air, and slammed back down into the ground, onto his side, the armor is denting, cracking, slowly being broken apart. Korda opens his eyes once again, he is kicked directly in the stomach by another, sliding him across the ground. Without time to recover his breath, he is picked up by another, gripped on by his backplate, and simply thrown away.
Korda sails at least forty feet away before landing. This strength wasn't present in the fight with the Angels, they may be slower, but one hit is enough to stun most opponents.

"Mandalore tuus, dic mihi, num gaudet sanguine Innocentis? Civis? Pueri?... Quisnam miles se tam dedecorat?"

The Mandalorian looks back, noticing he is much further away from the AA gun, the Iron Walls standing inbetween him and the piece. Two soldiers attempting to aid an already dead man, the others, practically posing with their weapons holstered.

"Oppugnas positionem quae salutem eorum qui pugnare nolunt, eorum qui in pace vivere et amare volunt, tuendam esse destinata est. Attamen hic cadis, non opus est nobis dignitatem nostram probare, dignitatem pueri homicidae, praedonis, scelerati quem ego antea in cranium tuum conficerem."

The woman in armor steps forward just slightly, enough to present herself differently among the soldiers.

"Quamquam mors tua non mihi curanda est. Alius vitam tuam habet... Itaque hoc tibi offero: fuge, discurre sicut parva muscula quae es ad gentem morientem, et veniam implora quia sanguinem purum effundere non potuisti. Aut mane, et verberare donec guttur tuum resecuisse velimus. Et cum tandem ad duces tuos reverteris, livido, cruento, et fracto. Simpliciter nescient quid tecum amplius faciant."

​

[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
The Paladin looks to the gunship, then back down to Sariel. A sigh echoing...

"Non te ex hoc campo expellebo. Sed Muris Ferreis te adiungere debebis, qui in proximo loco antiaereo sunt. Supervolabimus et tu exsilire poteris ut eis te adiungas, Fratercule."

Marc pats the Angel on his shoulder a few times, a small tear streaking down his face as he places his helmet back on. Turning to the gunship...​

 

[Laphisto]

​

Tags: Edwards Ali Kare Amelia von Sorenn Renn Vizsla


Laphisto continued to grip the railing of the holoprojector, his posture steady despite the violence unfolding beyond the hull. He turned his head slightly toward Edwards as he spoke,

"Our shield systems far outclass anything they can throw at us, The adaptive layers ensure that only severely concentrated fire has any chance of breaking through. Even then, the materials our hulls are constructed from are significantly more resilient than what they are accustomed to facing." He inclined his head toward the man, and gave a small chuckeld nod. "We will be alright, Do not fret." His lone ear twitched sharply as another voice cut in from the command pit.

"Commander," the bridge officer reported, "incoming planetary defense fleet confirmed. Two Air'mar heavy cruisers have translated in, accompanied by three Mar'zor frigates and twelve Dh'ivo corvettes. They exited hyperspace behind the Mandalorian fleet at the edge of the Curtain."

The holotable updated instantly, new friendly signatures locking into position along the outer defensive arc. "Additionally, Diarch Rellik's ship and its escorts have integrated into our formation. Their arrival has significantly increased our effective firepower." Laphisto's gaze returned to the projection as the defensive net tightened once more, layers reinforcing layers until the system resembled a closing vice. What had begun as a hard fight was rapidly becoming a controlled engagement.

Laphisto gave a small nod, his expression tightening into a thoughtful frown as he considered the new formations coming into play. "Keep the planetary defense fleet at a measured distance, Have them stay close to the outer stations and use those platforms to bolster their firepower. With the Mandalorian fleet already this close, those stations might as well be kissing their hulls with weapons fire."

The holotable responded as his adjustments propagated across the network. He shifted the projection, narrowing the focus until Renn Vizsla 's fleet dominated the display. At that proximity to the Curtain, there was no meaningful room left to maneuver. Evasion was no longer an option. Every firing line overlapped, every vector saturated. It had ceased to be a battle of positioning. It was a thermal fistfight.

The Mandalorian formation was being battered from all sides, hammered by thousands upon tens of thousands of kinetic rounds and energy bolts. Fire tore through the void in continuous streams, shields flaring and collapsing under the relentless pressure as ships struggled simply to remain intact. Then a sudden blip flared on the edge of the map. Laphisto's hand moved instantly, pulling the projection wider as he zoomed out to identify the source of the anomaly. New data flooded in as the system recalculated trajectories and threat markers.

What followed was a massive plasma detonation that tore through the heart of the defensive lattice. The blast struck dead center within a dense cluster of stations, the core platforms vaporized instantly as the energy wave expanded outward. Stations on the periphery of the blast zone survived, but not unscathed. Armor scorched, shields flared and failed, and structural damage rippled through their frameworks as debris scattered across the surrounding void. Even so, the defensive line did not break fully

targeting Amelia von Sorenn 's fleet the stations of the curtain Twould launch Thousands upon tens of thousands of rounds that converged on the mandalorians ships. Ion bolts lanced forward in dense volleys, volleys of fire that were meant to strip shields and collapse defensive screens in rapid succession. firing in waves of ION bolts, soon followed by Turbolaser fire and high-impact kinetic rounds that if they hit hull plating punched and cratered wounds into armor plating.

A low growl rolled from Laphisto's throat as he kept the fleet's status feeds in constant view. Shield levels, hull integrity, ammunition counts, and thermal loads scrolled across the holotable in layered bands of light. He tracked them all, not as isolated figures, but as a living system that had to keep moving to survive.

Ships were rotated deliberately, pulled back the moment they began to draw concentrated fire and replaced by fresh hulls sliding forward into the line. No vessel was allowed to linger long enough to become a fixed target. The rhythm of engagement remained fluid, a controlled exchange rather than a test of endurance.

He paid particular attention to the gun trenches. Orders went out in steady intervals, directing captains to maneuver just enough to shake loose unexploded warheads before they could accumulate. Firing patterns were adjusted, missile defense cycles staggered, and trench crews kept alert to anything that did not belong there. The catastrophe that had crippled the Advent Star would not be allowed to repeat itself.

Fleet Compositon

Laphistos main fleet
1 Tracyn [Lilaste order Flag ship]
3 Edaar Class star destroyer MKII
2 Vel'garoth Class Star Destroyer
29 Air'mar Heavy Cruiser MKII
100 Kor'ask Class Corvette

---

Reinforcement fleet.
1 Rellik Class Star Destroyer
1 Vel'garoth Class Star Destroyer
2 Air'mar Heavy Crusier
2 Dran'voth Cruiser
9 Mar'zor Frigate
12 Dh'ivo Class Corvette
12 Kor'ask Class Corvette

Star fighter Composition

49 Basilisk G-10 StarFighter [589 Total]
22 Pegasus D-5 Bomber [264 Total]

---

Rienforcement Star fighters
NZ Khopek-Class SSF 21 squadrons [420 total]

TLDR

• Rienforcement fleet arrives behind Renn's fleet. sticks close to teh curtain for protection and increased fire power..
• Relliks ship an dthe system defense fleet link up with Laphistos fleet adding more firepower that rains down on rens fleet.
• Laphsitos fleet also broadsides Amelias fleet through the curtain.

 

[Null 7]

Theme​

Tags: Allies: 'Sentinel' Janius Everwall || Opp: Adelle Bastiel Aselia Verd
Armor: LO-62C[ due to new factory rules remove all Force-related resistances. working on getting the armor pulled for refits]
Weapons:LO-20D, LO-22S, LO-10M [broken but usable as a dagger/ combat knife]
Ammo: LO-AP/19

Null Seven was taking notes between passes, cataloging what little the engagement had revealed so far. Force power, yes, but unfocused. Rocks torn loose and hurled here, then there, more noise than precision. Environmental manipulation without commitment. It struck him as wasteful. With a resource as vast and lethal as the Force at their disposal, one would think its users would wield it decisively, like the weapon it truly was.

He had seen what disciplined Force use looked like. He had watched the High Commander tear through enemy lines with controlled violence, seen members of the Order's Force-sensitive ranks employ it to kill, maim, and dismantle opposition with brutal efficiency. The Force, when used properly, ended fights quickly. And yet here he was, being harassed by thrown debris.

The thought lingered only a moment before a sharp metallic tink sounded against the pillar beside him. The noise was small but out of place, cutting through the ambient destruction like a blade. Null Seven's focus snapped back to the present. He pivoted immediately, planting his feet and squaring his shoulders as his armor systems flared to life.

The thought barely had time to settle before a sharp metallic tink struck the pillar beside him. The sound was wrong. Too precise. Too close. Null Seven's attention snapped back to the present and he turned immediately, feet planting as his armor systems surged to readiness. He braced, shoulders squared, and projected his armor shield outward in anticipation rather than certainty.

The Force caught Null Seven mid-step and hurled him backward through another support pillar, the impact shattering duracrete as his body punched through it and slammed hard into the wall beyond. A sharp groan escaped him as he dragged himself upright, boots scraping for traction amid the debris. Pain flared briefly and was shoved aside as his armor compensated and his balance returned.

The displacement had done exactly what he did not want. It had opened distance between him and the Mandalorian he was facing, space he could neither afford nor tolerate. Distance gave Force users room to breathe, room to shape the battlefield, room to decide the tempo. That advantage needed to be taken away.

Null Seven raised his rifle and opened fire again, the weapon bucking steadily against his shoulder as he sent controlled bursts downrange. The shots were not meant to kill. They were meant to occupy, to demand attention, to force reaction rather than intention. As soon as the rifle began barking, he moved

He broke into a forward sprint, weaving between shattered pillars and collapsed supports, keeping his profile narrow and his path unpredictable. Each piece of cover was used only long enough to break line of sight before he pushed on, closing the distance step by step under the rhythm of his own gunfire.

As he advanced, his armor shield flared outward, projecting into the shape of a full-body tower shield rather than the Buckler style design of the Mandalorian he was facing. The barrier anchored to his movement, interposing itself between him and the space ahead as he drove forward, accepting the weight and strain of the projection in exchange for momentum. Expecting his own rounds to be hurled back at him he set the shield to prioritize kinetic and energy resistance.

 

[Dreidi Xeraic]

​

Objective: 3 - Yaga Minor
Outfit: Nightsister Armour
Equipment: Lightsaber, Ichor Sword and Dathomiri Energy Bow
Opposition: Zinayn

The burning cloak was thrown her way, Dreidi batted the burning fabric down to the ground with her blade. The quicksand was working in the manner that Dreidi had desired, it was slowing him down. Letting her assess this impenetrable cloth. Her Lightsaber was unlikely going to be able to slice through it and Dreidi doubted that she would get another chance to attempt to burn away the fabric. He knew that she could control her fires and that was not something he could afford to test how intense the fires could be made. Anything handed to Dreidi would be taken and she would ensure to burn alive.

He used the Force to free himself, Dreidi studied, not seeking to counter the attempt and when he got one leg free, Dreidi nodded her head. It was interesting to see how this man worked. Hovering her free hand over the burning cloth, Dreidi pulled the flames to her. She created an intense, fiery whip with the flames that she gathered and looked to Zinayn, "I do not wish to kill you here. But you are standing in the way and I cannot allow that." Dreidi sighed.

Cracking the whip towards Zinayn, he was tumbling backwards from the attempt to free himself from the quicksand that she had created. Dreidi intended to crack the whip around his leg, burning the clothing and flesh while also dragging him back into the quicksand. Though it would not remain that consistency for much longer. It was a spell that required far too much concentrate to maintain the consistency and the idea was to liquidify the ground and then solidify it. Trapping someone permanently in a tomb.

Dreidi still held her sword in preparation for something else that could happen from Zinayn but she was hoping to make short work of this to help ensure the collapse of the elevator. Eira knew her magick could be a game changer for it. But that would take a lot of energy and a lot of focus that she did not have the time for right now.

 

[Korda Veydran]

Korda did not rise at once. His chestplate hitched with every breath, the servos beneath beskar whining in protest as they tried to compensate for warped plating and overstressed joints. His HUD was a storm of warning glyphs. fractured rib alerts pulsing amber, armor integrity percentages bleeding downward, internal temperature climbing in slow, merciless increments. He ignored all of it. Smoke filled his lungs with every inhale. It tasted like burning insulation and powdered concrete. His heart hammered so hard it blurred his vision. Then he laughed. It crawled out of him low and broken, half cough, half growl, scraping raw across his throat before blooming into something feral. The sound echoed between ruined buildings and shattered storefronts, bouncing back at him in distorted fragments.

He rolled onto one knee. Gravel ground against beskar. Then the other. Every movement sent knives of pain through his ribs, and a fresh gush of warmth slicked the inside of his undersuit, soaking into the fabric from a deep gash across his side. He forced himself upright anyway, vertebra by vertebra, spine straightening through sheer refusal. His shoulders squared despite dented pauldrons and cracked undersuit seams. Heat radiated from his armor in dull waves.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and disengaged his helmet seals. The locks clicked open. A faint hiss followed as pressurized air escaped. Cool, ash-heavy atmosphere washed over his face. It carried the coppery tang of blood and the bitter stink of burned plastics. He pulled the helmet free and hooked it onto his belt, letting it hang heavily against his thigh. Soot streaked his cheekbones. A fresh, dark rivulet of blood flowed from his broken nose, tracing a path through the grime on his upper lip and dripping from his chin. His hair clung damply to his forehead, matted with more of the same.

He coughed. Hard. Once. Twice. Thick, clotted spit, dark and stringy with red, struck the pavement. He wiped his mouth with the back of his gauntlet, but the gesture was useless. The blood from his nose was constant, a slow, steady trickle that coated his teeth and pooled in the corners of his mouth as he spoke. He lifted his head. His eyes were red-rimmed and blazing.

"putatis"he rasped, voice torn raw by smoke and impact, the words slurred slightly by the blood filling his mouth, "me recedere quia me vicisti?"Another cough tore through him, spraying a fine mist of red before his lips. He spat again, right into the cracked street between them. "I dolor" He spread his arms slightly, exposing himself, dent-crumpled cuirass, scorched vambraces, hairline fractures spiderwebbing across beskar plates. Dark, wet stains were beginning to seep through the seams of his undersuit at his ribs and thigh, spreading like ink on wet paper. "si moriar hic" he said, voice rising through the smoke, "more gloriosa erit"

Somewhere far off came the dying howl of repulsors. Then a hollow, distant boom. His Basilisk. Gone. Korda turned his head toward the sound. For a heartbeat something passed across his face, loss, fury, memory. Then it hardened into iron. He looked back at the woman in armor.

"li quos mandalore ferreus crucifixit?" Korda growled, his teeth bared in a red-stained grimace. "Partem suam elegerunt. Libenter." He took a single step forward, boots crunching glass. "quod male elegerunt"His fist slammed against his chestplate, the impact ringing hollow and loud. "Diarchia magnum eius impulit. ferre responit" His breathing began to steady, pain folding inward, transforming into something colder and sharper. "unum nostrum interficis," he snarled, "decem surgunt ut eos sustituant. hic est honor mandaloriauns" His gaze swept across the Iron Wall, slow and unblinking.


"Kad Ha'rangir sequor" Korda continued, quieter now, reverence threading through his voice. "perditor" He inhaled deeply, savoring the heat, the smoke, the ruin. "Pugno ut sanguinem iam in manibus meis maculatum expiem." A humorless laugh escaped him, a wet, gurgling sound. "et tu?" His lip curled. "In aedificiis vos latetis. Insidias turmarum in via paratis. Ignem in unum bellatorem dirigitis donec galea eius frangitur."He shook his head, sending a spray of sweat and blood from his hair. "Me inhonestum vocas?"

His eyes slid past them toward the looming silhouette of the AA battery rising above the ruins. "Illa sclopeta fratres et sorores meos e caelo vaporavit," he said flatly. "Eos ex orbita exussit antequam terram etiam tangere possent."His jaw tightened. "Deleo illud ut vivi, si necesse est, se recipere possint." A beat. "Quia probe scio te eos fugientes sclopeto interfecturum esse."

His gaze dipped briefly to the Ashen Maw lying among rubble and spent casings. "Telum illud... Redde illud" He exhaled slowly, a plume of red-tinged vapor. "Non incendam. Per Destructorem iuro." His voice softened, barely. "Meum est. Meis ipsis menibus Id aedificavi"

Silence stretched, heavy and electric. Korda closed his eyes. Then he lowered himself. One knee struck the pavement with a wet crunch. Then the other. Heat bled through his armor into his bones as he bowed his head. His left gauntlet pressed to his chest while he murmured in Mando'a, low, intimate words meant only for Kad Ha'rangir. A prayer for strength. For clarity. For destruction worthy of memory. His right hand drifted casually toward his vambrace. Inside the gauntlet, a pressure plate waited beneath his palm. A tiny rune blinked once. Green. The detonator was already slaved to his armor systems, hardwired into his gauntlet, linked directly to his neural interface. One flex of his fingers was all it would take. The sticky charge had found its mark earlier, unseen in the chaos, clinging to the underside of a boot when that same foot had driven into his ribs.

He finished the prayer. Lifted his head. Red eyes locked forward. A slow, savage smile crept across his battered face, his teeth a crimson ruin in the gloom. He rose from his knees. And softly, almost conversationally, he asked: "Dic mihi aliquidp" is head tilted. "Timesne combustionem?"

Norbert Oro 'Sentinel' Janius Everwall

 

[Norbert Oro]

The Angels of Meu
Allies - Diarchy, Lilaste forces, Iron Creed
Support -Iron Creed
Current Objective - Survive
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.

Sariel looked at Marc as he walked away and stood there for a moment in thought. He thought back to when he was growing up on Meu. He watched his fellow angels be saved by the Iron Creed and swore to return the favor. Yet, here he is being saved by the Iron Creed.

Sariel put his helmet on and quickly jogged over to catch up to Marc. He mounted the gunship and spoke to March. There was some emotion in his voice:

"Gratias tibi, frater. Tibi debemus."

He looked over at Norbert to see everyone working on him.

Tag: 'Sentinel' Janius Everwall Korda Veydran

 

[Zinayn]

OBJ3
Engaging: Dreidi Xeraic

Just before Zinayn could stop his roll and come up in a crouch, and searing pain grasped his ankle, and he saw a whip of emerald flames wrapped around him. He let out a low hiss of pain and came up to his feet, a bit lighter on his injured side. Quickly, he slashed his katana blade, bursting with Force energy, through the fire, using the Force in the blade to sever part of the whip and hopefully disrupt Dreidi's control over it.

Zinayn put some more weight on his injured left foot, testing its reliability. He had reacted fast enough to not lose all his mobility, but the pain was excruciating. His head began to swim, and the world spun for a moment. Then, he commanded the Force throughout his body, nullifying the pain and clearing his head. His gaze returned to the witch, narrowed in focus. She continued to talk, but her words were lost on him at the moment. He was too deep in calculation.

The woman had not yet seen his full agility without his outer robes. Now was the time. While she might have thought the burning of his flesh would slow him down, he was now far faster than before. The enhancement on his inner robes seemed to hum passively in his ear through the Force, ready to aid his movements. Zinayn flourished his katana minutely, as if waiting for her to make the next move. In reality, he was building up the Force in his lower body to make the big jump.

A second later, he moved. One leg pushed off of the ground beneath him, the full power of the Force directed below to propel him forward. The ground cracked slightly and Zinayn darted straight for Dreidi, gone in the blink of an eye. He held his katana out to the side of him, aiming to cleanly slice through her midsection, hoping to end the fight so he could support the Diarchy troops against the larger enemy invasion group.

 

[The Shroud Knight]

|| AS IRON SHARPENS IRON ||
Emissary of the Unknown - Chapter 1
———
LOADOUT:

Spoiler

Yellow Lightsaber
Silver Needle (Star-iron needle-like hidden blade)
Biometric Pylon
Star-iron threaded cloak

DIA: Kallous | Shyra Calipsa | Souls of the Lilaste order | Trace Xyston
ME: Avast Verd | Jonah | Quinn Varanin | Tessa Thayne | Tyr Mereel
ENGAGING: Hanna | Siv Kryze

ANESTHESIZE​

SANTHE-SIENAR ORBITAL SHIPYARDS, YAGA MINOR

The shriek of Beskar against Kyber flooded the Knight's audio sensors. Siv Kryze was a mountain of iron and Force-enhanced will, leaning into the bind with a seasoned warrior's weight. The Knight felt his own boots slide back a fraction of an inch, the Star-Iron of his gauntlets groaning under the pressure of the Mandalorian's spear.

Then it hits.

Hanna ’s Void Stone slugs arrived with the terrifying lack of warning that only the deep dark could provide. Because he was locked in the bind with Siv, the Knight had no room to maneuver. He sensed the displacement in the Force a microsecond too late.

The first slug caught him in the side of the ribs, the hypervelocity round punching through the Star-Iron plating and shattering the inner electronic lining. The second slug hammered into his left hip, the kinetic force nearly pivoting him out of his stance. Pain flared, cold and sharp, as the armor-plas beneath his cloak buckled into his flesh.

The Knight’s breathing turned into a wet, mechanical hiss. The Biometric Pylon in his ear was a flatline of warning tones.

Yet he didn't pull away from Siv. Instead, he used the Mandalorian's own forward momentum and the kinetic impact of Hanna's slugs to fuel a desperate, violent pivot. As Shyra Calipsa ’s bolts whistled through the fog, he leaned entirely into Siv's space, bringing his masked forehead toward the Mandalorian's visor in a brutal, close-quarters strike, trying to force Siv's focus into a singular, claustrophobic point.

Still in close-quarter, The Knight’s left hand, blood-slicked but steady, snapped the Silver Needle out from his gauntlet. He aimed for the small, vulnerable seal of the flight suit between Siv's Beskar plates, a strike that if successful would puncture through the muscle tissues of the Mandalorian and pump blood out of his body.

 

[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

Although Siv seemed to be moving to her position, it did not appear that he had managed to fully extract himself from the smoke. Upon realizing it, Hanna gave a sharp, frustrated exhale, pursing her lips as she glided along the edge of the fog cloud. Her helmet’s millimeter-wave radar painted the reason why as the Mandalorian’s and the cloaked warrior’s silhouettes lit up through the smoke. Siv was locked in a vicious melee with the cloaked warrior, a situation which she sensed might be difficult for him to extricate from even with his jetpack. Where Hanna’s repulsorlift skates gave her excellent horizontal movement capabilities, the jetpack was more suited to vertical, three-dimensional environments. In a confined space the likes of a space station’s corridor, a jetpack’s mobility risked being limited by the height of the ceiling.

Hanna brow furrowed beneath her helmet. None of this was going to plan.

Still, the Qilin knew her objective. She was here to disable the sensor and tractor beam control station, not to idly engage the shipyards’ defenders. In that regard, she remembered that Siv had previously told her to take her window once it came and to not wait on him.

With the smoke filling the area and her two immediate enemies momentarily stunned and injured from her shots, that window was wide open. Even so, leaving Siv alone to deal with the cloaked warrior and the guard by himself felt like a betrayal.

It was then that her HUD highlighted the guard’s silhouette shifting within the fog. The Qilin surged into motion, her skates whining as she glided to her right while two bolts lanced through the haze. One found its mark on her right leg, and a sharp sting shot up her spine as a bone-rattling impact buckled the leg out from beneath her. A cry tore out from her lips, and she crashed hard to her deck!

Although she had suffered a direct hit, her suit had held its integrity, shields flaring as they dissipated the worst of the energy. Her skin beneath the armor would certainly bruise later, but for the moment that wasn’t her primary concern. Rather, with her repulsorlifts sputtered, she was momentarily grounded and exposed.

Nevertheless, gritting her teeth against the pain, Hanna immediately snapped off return fire in an effort to suppress, rather than hit a point target. She fired six Void Stone-treated standard hypervelocity slugs from both of her pistols towards the guard ( Shyra Calipsa ) from fourteen meters away, with the aim of forcing her into cover or a defensive action. In that, she knew that the woman had already felt their kinetic savagery firsthand. A single lucky shot in an unprotected or weakened area could end the fight in an instant!

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)

 

[Liorra]

Mia Monroe | Morta Izanami​

Liorra felt Mia Monroe tap her arm. She turned immediately, visor angling toward the direction of the threat, senses sharpening as the basilisk began its descent. For a fleeting moment, Lio wondered how this would all unfold, where chaos would break, where control would hold.

Then there was no more room for wondering.

Once Mia dismounted the droid, Liorra guided the basilisk down, easing it into a stable resting position against the ground. She moved quickly after that, securing her gear with practiced efficiency before dropping down to follow the older Mandalorian without hesitation.

There was a calm about Mia, one Liorra remembered dimly from years past. Not the absence of danger, but a familiarity with it. A steadiness that didn't rush.

The beskad on Mia's back slid free of its hilt in a smooth, deliberate motion.

Instinct answered instinct. Liorra's hand went to her own blade, fingers curling around the grip of a sword not unlike Mia's, beskad in form and purpose, balanced for close work. She kept her distance, careful not to crowd, eyes fixed on the way Mia moved.

This wasn't a charge.
It was a hunt.

Liorra followed in silence, watching as Mia stalked forward with patient intent, every step measured, every movement purposeful, like a predator already certain of where its prey would fall.

 

[Zaytee]

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​

At the quiet sound of a thump, Zaytee looked up, fear widening her eyes.

With her tail flicking around nervously like a whip, and a low, almost animalistic growling and hissing erupting from her throat, she clutched her fingers tighter in her injury, watching the newcomer's figure through the darkening haze the exhaustion cursed her with, looking out for the slightest signs of bad intent in the creatures movements.

Red and white feathers, a beak, and a curious, but somehow still wary gaze... this thing looked more like the little birds whose eggs she stole out from the nests in her younger years, gulping them down with one bite. Although their beaks were always sharp, which she sadly had a chance to experience from first hand. But despite the similarities, this giant bird soon started to talk, showing signs of higher intelligence.

"Help?" She asked back quietly, the back of her head slamming against the wall with a sudden move as a random crashing noise echoed through the alley from afar, scaring her. "Oh, for the love of-!" She tried to silence her words of anger by biting into her scarf, muffling it with the soft material.

After a short slence, she sighed quietly, looking at the big ball of feather once more, now taking a better look at the faded golden lights that danced around them, quite similar to the few other she had a chance to see before.

Was this thing connected to the force too?

"Fine." She muttered in the end, taking her palm away from her injury, which now started to color her clothes with red too. "But no funny business. I keep an eye on you, big chicken."
Viari Banu

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

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

Her eyebrows twitched upwards when her opponent stood from getting blasted through a duracrete pillar and slammed into a wall. Adelle aimed down the sights of her heavy rifle and fired a burst of 6 around the edge of her stasis field she’d put up in front of her. Her foe moved from cover to cover, firing at her position in accurate bursts. The stasis field held, caught the strange slugs, kept them suspended. Adelle kept it carefully between her and the soldier.

“Recall,” she commanded in her helm. The vocal command was acknowledged and sent to her Basilisk. She tracked, led, and fired a short burst at the advancing enemy around the edge of her stasis field. 14 rounds left in the mag.

“We’re wasting time here,” she said in the private channel to Aselia. “Basilisks could have made short work of the elevator.”

More slugs caught in her stasis field. He was closing fast. She returned fire: 9 rounds left.

“Target structural supports at my location.” The command went through, her Basilisk disengaging from the convoy and approaching the shattered building she was in. The slugthrower fire drowned out the groans from the building, but she felt dangerous vibrations in her feet. The IFF tracker in her HUD showed the Basilisk nearing range.

“Speaking of questionable life choices,” she said to Aselia. Adelle blasted the soldier’s fired slugs from the stasis field back at him with a Force push. “Here’s one.”

“K’tra’cyar.”

Her Basilisk’s sonic cannon thundered as it fired on the lower structural supports of the building. The building shook, its groans becoming louder than both slugthrower fire and the sounds of battle outside. Adelle holstered her assault rifle, maintaining the stasis field between her and the enemy soldier as she now moved back to keep some distance. Her other hand pulled her dropped Firepuncher back into her possession.

The supports shattered under the sustained assault but as weakened as it was, it didn’t take much. Chunks of duracrete dropped from the ceiling and durasteel support beams screeched as the building began to collapse.

And while it was impossible to anticipate something dead in the Force, a building falling in on itself was well within Adelle’s ability.

She raised a barrier around herself and dropped both the stasis field and her use of Art of the Small to keep her presence unnoticeable. It held as the building fell around her.

Spoiler: TLDR

• Adelle lays down supressive fire around the stasis field in front of her.
• She recalls her basilisk and tells it to target the building's structural supports.
• Adelle blasts the slugs caught in the stasis field back at Null 7.
• She commands the basilisk to fire on the supports.
• She holsters the Big Ripper assault rifle, calls her sniper back to her.
• Building starts falling.
• Force barrier is raised before the stasis field and Art of the Small is dropped.
• Building collapses.

Spoiler: Equipment

Owl-type Beskar'gam
Single blade, single phase lightsaber. Permafrost crystal. Biometric panelling along handle.
785MK Firepuncher-X sniper rifle
Ori Sidaki "The Big Ripper"
WESTAR-34 blaster pistol
Beskad
Euk Siha service knife