Bucketheads vs. Trash Pandas [Mandalorian Empire Invasion of Coalition-Controlled Utapau (Hex 53-N)]

[Darth Sibilus]

To say that the Epicanthix was surprised when the man deflected the blade into his body was an understatement, but it only took him a few moments to figure what he was doing. His eyes flitted from the blade to Vorhi's blindfold, and a peculiar image swept across his vision, much to his dismay and astonishment. An army of monks marched across a flowered field, and the smell of roses engulfed him and the peacefulness of the scene relaxed him for a moment. A moment when Vorhi could grasp his lightsaber hilt and crush his hilt like snapping a stick.

Realisation quietly crept into Drios' mind, manifesting itself into doubt and eventually dismay as the Sith Lord figured that he was utterly powerless next to this man's potency at crafting spells, and his devices which allowed him superhuman strength. Anger at the loss of his weapon, fear at his vulnerability without his blade welled up within him, and he allowed the remains of his lightsaber trickle through his fingers like grains of sand.

Hesitation would not be his downfall, and within the moment that he had lost his weapon he released crackling tendrils of lightning from his wretched fingertips, aiming it at such close range to congregate around Vorhi's head, cooking his brain crudely yet potently. "What.. Are you?"

[member="Vorhi Alestrani"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Location: Pau City
Allies: [member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Calina Ovmar"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Darth Sibilus"]
Enemies: [member="Sanya Val Swift"] | [member="Ayhia Katar"] | [member="Vorhi Alestrani"] | [member="Cotan Sar'andor"] | [member="Nok-Krah-Nin"]
Gear:

• Neo-Imperator Sith Armor
• Blades of the Arch-King
• Sith Shuk'orok

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!?"

Such anger, it was clear to the Dark Lord that the aged general truly meant something to this woman. That made her anguish all the more succulent as he gingerly fed off of her rage, his lightsaber momentarily deactivated as he did so. However, his attention was momentarily diverted to another threat, one farther away and more concealed than that of the woman in his immediate view. His eyes narrowed as the fingers of his left hand flexed, conjuring a barrier of virtually invisible energy around his body in a sphere roughly four feet in diameter. By design he was incapable of movement so long as the shield was active, but he doubted he'd have move for the woman to engage him, angered as she was.

The first round sailed through the air, straight as an arrow right towards the Dark Lord's chest. Yet, instead of piercing his body like papier-mâché, the round came to a full stop four feet from his body. The impact of the round against the barrier crunched the metal of the round, but it did not fall. The other two rounds followed suit, their bodies pulverized as they impacted the shield. Then all three metallic rounds gravitated towards each other, the molecular binding that kept them solidified breaking down until they were properly fused into a singular spike of wickedly sharp metal. Then, all of the kinetic energy that had propelled them forward was turned against the shooter as the Dark Lord redirected it back towards her position with the same speed at which it hurtled towards him.

Then the feline roared again in anger, "I’M GOING TO FETHING KILL YOU! WHATEVER IT TAKES YOUR DEAD!" A variation of what he had heard countless times over, and he doubted this one would come close to being a reality.

He maintained the shield as she surged forth, letting her batter her blades uselessly against his conjured shield before weathering the Force wave that cascaded over the platform. She backed off, reciting a Jedi prayer, and gave the Dark Lord the moment he needed to verbally retort. "Are you quite done? Your incessant yelling has become an annoyance, allow me to silence you." He reached out with his left hand and placed the tips of his fingers against the interior surface of the barrier, the power of the Dark Side flowing out from his core and up through his arm.

That power manifested itself as discharges of crimson lightning across the invisible barrier, building and building in intensity until a concentrated stream of Sith Lightning erupted forth towards Sanya; intent on spearing her heart right through.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Enemies: [member="Damian Starchaser"] l [member="Joza Perl"]
Allies: [member="Aryn Spar"] RIP l Mandalorians
Objective: Stack Bodies.


He turned his head for a moment, to watch [member="Joza Perl"], in the distance- kill one of his fellow warriors. He watched the Togorian fall forward, dead. There was a simplicity to how he died, in truth. No complications. He just was killed. People died in war. Aryn, and Preliat were not the exception. He turned his head back to the Jedi, narrowing his blue eyes behind his helmet. The Jedi before him was an acrobatic sort- Ataru, he mused. That was the name of that sort of style. But Preliat had just watched his friend get murdered. He didn't have time, and he didn't want to make the time.

The Jaig eyes on his helmet remained eerily still before he moved for one of the blasters on his thigh. He was a well-practiced marksman, an even more well-trained killer. It was a simple drill, one that any practitioner with a handgun would be able to execute. And since Preliat had been one for a long time, it was a well-done execution of a failure to stop. The failure to stop drill was simple, draw, two from the hip, one well-aimed shot at the head. The idea was to breach body armor with the first two, and as headshots typically did, kill someone. Now, being that it was a Jedi he was dealing with, he was sure that at least one of the three shots wouldn't find their mark, or maybe none of them. He had no idea who the Jedi was.

He spoke briefly, in the same quiet tone that he typically did.

"Ramanar."1





1. Ramanar- Death. One of the horseman of the apocalypse- or in Preliat's case, his appointed title by the previous Mand'alor.

 

[Tryp West]

Location: Outside Pau City
Allies: [member="Jackson Singh"] [member="Bryce Bantam"]Trashpandas
Enemies: Definitely Bucketheads

Tryp paused in giving her varactyl a good solid scritch to accept the gun and ring. The critter made a small sound, shaking out its head. Glancing over at Jack she smirked.

"I'd send ya a wedding present if'n it was," she teased with a wink. "Many blessin's ta da 'appy couple an' all dat. You'd be cute tagether."

The rodian chuffed with laughter.

Sliding the ring on, noting how it functioned, and then checking over the shot gun, she nodded to herself. She had a pair of slug throwers already on her hips, but the saddle was set up to accommodate the longer gun snuggly above the pommel. Smart, that.

"Dun got much in da way a' stuff dat'd be useful fer dis sorta t'ing on da ship," she called out. "So dun gotta wait fer dat. We're ready ta ride, Marshal."

She was an archaeologist that wrote music based on the artifacts she uncovered. Tryp didn't go to war. But, when someone needed help, well....

Sometimes you did what must be done.

As soon as they were settled, the troop was off. Tryp had ridden a varactyl on a number of occasions, and she moved easily with the smooth, lopping gait of the animal. In truth, it wasn't hard to ride one- they made it easy, really, adjusting more for a rider than most riding critters she'd ever encountered.

They moved swiftly across the landscape, quickly covering the distance it would have taken Tryp and Jack all day to manage on foot. But as they got closer, the view looked more and more grim. The wind shifted, blowing the smoke from the city toward them, the acrid smell filling their noses and coating the back of their throats. Above the city, a large ship loomed, belching out black clouds of its own, though the higher level winds kept the smell of that chemically laden, burning ship smoke well above them.

So that was something right?

They reached the edge of the city, the troop slowing down for a moment- it was a big city, a lot going on- they waited for a cue from Marshal Bantam to continue forward. They'd follow him into hell, if it was the right thing to do, Tryp could see, looking around at the grim but determined faces. She knew that look. Better yet.

She knew that feel.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Location: Rekr dreadnought, rear hangar
Objective: Boarding
Enemies: [member="Vilaz Munin"]
Allies: ORC--- [member=Connory"] ugh.

He was about to rush into Vilaz again, when suddenly the audio-relay in his helmet started screeching.

Alarm.

Elijah skidded to the side, avoiding the kick and the line, instead making room between him and the former Mand'alor. Feth. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, "Damn it, Connory." Rekali rumbled before he quickly detached a 'nade and dropped it at Vilaz. He whirred around, then the flashbang went off just as Elijah retreated. It might have seemed as if he was fleeing like a coward.

Well, technically he was fleeing, but that was because a timer had started in his brain.

Ten.

He used his jetpack and suddenly his form blurred with the additional speed of the thrust. Found his way back into the hangar, the grav was still shifted here, but the jetpack was helpful here.

Six.

His form rushed past the transport they had come in. Through the hangar doors, just about, passing through into the atmosphere. Four. The explosion boomed and the shockwave crashed against him. Took him off guard, that intensity, made him lose control over his flight path. Alarms in his helmet, losing altitude, he was circling now and was losing the stability.

This wasn't good.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Location: Pau City.
Allies: Bucketheads and their Sith Empire frands. Nearby: [member="Calina Ovmar"] [member="Darth Carnifex"]
Enemies: Trash Pandas, specifically [member="Saoirse Flynn"]
Gear: Armour, Robes, Lightsabres, Tsaisibola.

Like a fish on the hook, Darth Ophidia hauled the smuggler in.

The crowd was thick as it fled. She barely saw the knife as it was thrown; normally, she would have caught it and thrown it back or at another person, this sowing guilt in her intended's mind. This time, she did not quite have the time. So when the knife came, rather than trying to avoid it, the assassin lifted the hilt of her lightsabre and ignited the blade once more. With a step forward and an angling of her wrist, the scarlet blade carved through the knife lengthwise as it came. Parts of hilt and blade were scattered to the sides.

But just in case it was cortosis - A material to which she had nearly fallen before - the Rattataki made sure she put her centre line against the knife, increasing the amount of armour between the point and her flesh. She was least protected on the upper arms and legs. However, her centre line was mostly encased in beskar plate. One way or the other, the blade would stop; either it was shredded by her blade or it clanked against her breastplate awkwardly.

As Saroirse came ever closer, Ophidia kept the top of her blade pointed at the smuggler and wagged it three time from side to side with deliberance.

"Tut tut tut"

Then, quickly she stepped forward. The extended blade dashing for the smuggler's wrist, not seeking to cut but to threaten the wrist and lock her blade out of the equation while, equally sudden, her left hand went for Saoirse's head. She was not going for a punch or a slap, but merely to place her thumb upon her forehead, the success of which would come with a full mental invasion.

She sought to tear into Saoirse's mental fortitude, feasting on her memories, her fears, her hate, her passions, her hope. Ophidia's mental presence was like a knife, bisecting all that it touched so it could be ravenously eaten up by her hungry eyes and turned on her captive like a crushed nest of hornets.

 

[Runi Verin]

Location: Highreach Station
Objective: None.
Enemies: Mandalorian Empire
Allies: Pretty much no one at this point. Y'dun killed them.
Engaging: [member="Ronan Vizsla"]

Smart move would have been to dodge, but that ship had sailed the moment she'd hesitated. A flickering second of surprise brought down by the locked rotation of her shoulder. Instead she gritted her teeth and lowered the offending appendage, wrapping it around her side as she stepped forward into the oncoming mountain of beskar and cold anger, throwing one last force-laden punch towards the center of it all before the hammer took her heavily in the side.

If her shoulder had hurt, it had nothing on the pain that blasted through her core as the weapon stuck home. Her vision searing at the edges with bright red lines as the breath was abruptly torn from her lungs, ribs battered and compacted by the force that threatened cave them in beneath the beskar. Her arm, well... That was a lost cause. The elbow joint all but disintegrating into a broken pile of wires and synthflesh.

Her mouth opened and closed in vein, the words to articulate her pain and anger in that moment failing even as her knees followed suit, buckling and sending her crashing onto the durasteel floor like a puppet without its strings.

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

[member="Davin Skirata"]​

​

Malika’s expression darkened as he deactivated the lightsaber, eyes flicking towards Mara crawling across the ground the green one in her wake, fingers adjusted on her grip. I’m not, she tried to say but her throat screamed in protest, pain that made her eyes water.
She wretched again.

Curse the wretched girl. She wiped the blood from her eye and spat more on the floor between her and Davin. Tightening her grip on the bev'kal and beckoning him again. The message was clear. If you want it, come and get it.

 

[Damian Starchaser]

Location: Near the mouth of the Kyber Crystal Caves, Utapau
Allies: [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Kaia Starchaser"] | [member="Orn Pharr"] | [member="Ijaat Mereel"] | [member="Ember Farseer"] | [member="Mishel Noren"]
Enemies: [member="Preliat Mantis"] | ?

Right so no witty banter here as the Mandalorian whispered death at him and drew the pistol. Damian knew why and didn't blame him, not in the entirety anyways. Joza was hurt and laying under the enormous bulk of a dead comrade. There was a double instinct within him, one to continue the engagement with the man before him, and the other to save his friend.

Thought ceased as reaction took over with Damian raising the umbrella and opening its canopy once more. An umbrella was meant to cover the body... from above... but Damian was damned if the armor material didn't shield the majority of him as he maneuvered it to intercept the pistol shots.

It was a well practiced maneuver that the Mandalorian had performed. He himself had practiced it in order to maintain the muscle memory. Truth was he hardly used a lightsaber in most of his little fights. He preferred, in order; guile. gadgets, explosives, blasters, and then finally his lightsaber. Damian didn't like people knowing he was a Jedi, although there was times it was needed.

Grimacing he took the last blast from the blaster and moved in a blur of speed away Joza trying for the mans blind spot and firing a charric blast from the umbrellas tip. His hope was to keep the man away from the downed woman who had a modicum of cover underneath her opponent. Besides moving her during this fight could be dangerous, Damian instead opted to keep the mans attention. "We can end this now," Damian said, "You take and tend to your wounded and dead. Perform any funeral rites you have, and I tend to my wounded."

He doubted the Mandalorian would accept. "We need not continue here."

 

[Lina Ovmar]

[member="Cotan Sar'andor"] [member="Nok-Krah-Nin"] @Vohri alestrani [member="Darth Sibilus"] [member="Darth Carnifex"]

Calina opened her mouth to reply, her response would have been curt and crisp but a resounding crack behind her, head turned enough to see the Dark Lord drop through the ground to the level below. She adjusted her grip on the lightsaber. “You can convince me to-”

A tingle ran up her spine and she moved, lightsaber swinging low to catch the first shot on her saber, back up again to catch the second. The third found its mark punching hard into her armour and sending her staggering backward. She reacted on instinct, seizing rubble left scattered by Darth Carnifex with the force and launching it towards the marksman.

“I cannot leave, but i do not want to kill you. I’d kill him though.” she jerked a thumb over her shoulder at Darth Sibilus, “but you’ll need to play dead for that.”

 

[Vorhi Alestrani]

Location: Pau City, top side
Objective: Conclude the second lesson. Hope for better students.
Gear: Hat is gone (saaaaaaaad), a few thermal detonators, a big gourd, some brawling gloves, and a whole lot of snark. Also, the gourd is filled with tea. Not alcohol, believe it or not.

New Friends: [member="Zesiro"] [member="Cotan Sar'andor"] [member="Nok-Krah-Nin"]
New Enemies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Calina Ovmar"] [member="Darth Sibilus"]



[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ModKq_dJe6M[/youtube]


Vorhi seemed gleeful as the Sith recoiled slightly. He could "see" Sibilius's aura shift. Hate still tinged him a heady red, but small violet tones of fear occurred, a scent that when mixed with the cheery blossoms, was almost heady. It had been a long time since he'd given a man true fear or vision. It had been a while since he'd *shared* his own sight, even in small doses, to another. It was always fascinating to see them react. His question was honest. It was fearful.

"What.. Are you?"

Fair thing to ask, really. Miralukians were rare in this galaxy. Ones who had learned to use their sight to pierce the veil of life and death? Vorhi may hell have been the only one. He smiled, watching the fear condense in the man's hand. Another force attack, no doubt. Aimed at the face. Well, that wouldn't do. The face was the money-maker. Vorhi dropped down, sinking as he lunged a kick forward. "Sorry, still speaking Palawan, wasn't I? Would you like some tea?" He inquired in Basic, the look on his face was demure. Cheerful, almost optimistic. It was....kind. The scents weren't visions, but the whole street seemed to smell of burnt cherry blossoms and a few kinds of tea--no doubt from the strange care packages that fell from the sky. His form had loosened into a basic Forraderri stance, ready to spring if the answer was less than kind. The dead, nightmarish man who was implacable seemed to have disappeared completely. It was a lie, though. In truth his heart was still racing. In truth, he wanted to continue. He hadn't had a man sincerely threaten his life with such intensity in a good long time. The Sith likely still had fight in him. However, things were moving, and time was on neither of their side. A Mandalorian would likely shoot them both.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

​

Enemies: [member="Damian Starchaser"] l [member="Joza Perl"]

As soon as the umbrella went up, Preliat knew that the man was going to be a one-trick pony (with the umbrella at least). He was expecting another shot, another cartridge. Preliat had a few precious moments to drop to the dirt, flat on his stomach. The shot went over his head, barely. It scraped along the top of his helmet and impacted the wall behind him. Preliat withdrew his tomahawk again and spun it several times. The beskar tomahawk gripped tight, he went to not slash him- but smash his umbrella to bits. The force moved around Preliat darkly. He was drawing power from somewhere- or something was drawing power from Preliat. It was a nexus of rage, of hate, loss and grief around Preliat. It made his eyes flash ice blue beneath his helmet. He was a walking wound in the force. Something was off. Something was wrong with him.

And it was all focused on the young Jedi.

With each blow, a vicious growl escaped his throat, formed into words. He spoke barely above a normal conversational tone. He went to smash through the Jedi's defenses. All six and a half feet, and two hundred and some odd pounds of Preliat coming down on the man's umbrella.

"You will pay for her. You will pay in nothing else but blood."

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

Location: Pau City
Allies: [member="Vorhi Alestrani"] [member="Nok-Krah-Nin"]
Not-Enemies: [member="Calina Ovmar"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Sibilus"]
Objective: Plotting

"Play dead?" Cotan replied, while he tried to thin the amount of rubble flying towards Nok by diverting some of it with the Force. He was not fond of the idea of playing dead, and letting other people do the fighting, but if it meant that one Sith was taken out of the fight and another one switched sides to help them, it'd be worth it, in his opinion. At the same time, that was a very, very large if. "Listen, for all I know, the moment I go along with your 'play dead' idea I'm going to actually get a lightsaber through the neck. Before I can be convinced to do that I'm going to need some sort of proof of goodwill here." He shifted his stance with his lightsaber to a slightly different position, if only to give the appearance to any bystanders that he and Calina were sizing each other up and getting ready for the real fight.

"If you can't do that, we can at least make this look like a believable fight, bring it down to a stalemate, and go our separate ways - I'd most definitely prefer to avoid either of us getting seriously injured." His eyes momentarily drifted over to where Vorhi was fighting the third Sith to have arrived, snapping the man's lightsaber as though getting impaled with it didn't even hurt. "Of course, I'm assuming by your saying you can't leave that you also can't join us completely? If you're worried about tall and ugly, I'm sure the ORC could help keep you safe from him. Somewhat. Big galaxy, after all...Now, look sharp." Before Calina had a chance to respond to his question, he stepped forward, twisting his wrist to give a quick overhead slash - not aimed to actually connect with Calina in any way, something she'd surely notice, but it would at least look impressive enough to convince somebody like Darth Sibilus nearby that they were truly starting to duel, feeling out each other's defenses and developing a strategy.

I hate ruses like this.

 

[Damian Starchaser]

[member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Kaia Starchaser"] (you're nearby right? I lost track)​

​

Highly resistant as the umbrella he wielded may have been it couldn't take the multiple mighty blows from a mandalorian iron hatchet. The armored material chipped and broke allowing the man a view of Damian through the transparency. For his own part Damian didn't move force against force and attempted as best he could to give a little with each blow backing up and giving ground. With luck he'd tire the man out before he himself was brought down.

There was an advantage to rage, anger, or otherwise strong emotion when it came to fighting. The adrenaline from emotion could push the body beyond its normal limits allowing for strength not expected. The downside of course was that one could get tunnel vision. Damian hoped that the man wouldn't see the subtle movements, although there was something off about him. Damian was never the best at sensing things through the force and yet even with his meager skill he was able to feel something off about the man attacking.

Counter attack came. Damian shot a leg forward with one of the blows heading at him. As his leg moved to wrap around his opponents ankle he pushed hard with his umbrella trying to take the berserker off balancing knocking him to the ground. It was a calculated move backed up by enhanced physicality granted to him by the force. Others could crush stone or shoot fists in such a rapid succession as to not be seen by the human eye. Damian would settle for knocking someone over, and knew that other feats were well beyond his capabilities.

He pushed hard as the blow came. The Umbrella diverting it from the course but a large chunk of armored fabric breaking off. The axe blade struck him with a glancing blow, the majority of the impact being delivered by the off tilt blades flat end. Damians vision blurred as he continued his forward moment, head practically gushing blood. It was strange how even the smallest wound on the head would bleed... then again this wasn't the smallest of wounds.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Enemies: [member="Kaia Starchaser"] (maybe?) l [member="Damian Starchaser"]​

Allies: all my friends are dead​

​

Preliat stumbled for several feet before ultimately losing his balance entirely, falling against the cave wall. He twisted as he fell, impacting face-first. His visor cracked. Despite what people may have thought, yes, Mandalorian iron was extremely tough. But, the design of the armor did not include tempering Mandalorian iron to be see-through, so ballistic glass was used. As far as he knew. He wasn't an armorer.

His vision wasn't entirely impaired, but the impact did dampen his ability to see out of his helmet clearly on the left side. He turned and rotated his hips, standing up with a roll-like motion, taking a breather before walking back towards Damian, and lashed out with his cybernetic leg- right at the man's chest. The force of a small speeder impacting someone, powered by the dark side of the force- came straight for Damian's chest.

 

[Asantas]

Location: Gate to the Cave
Opposing: [member="Kaia Starchaser"]

She was pleased it made contact but it only hit armor and from what she heard knocked abit of wind out of the Jedi it wasn't much as she hoped but she wouldn't care there's other combinations to try that are more deadly then simple strikes anyway, She noticed the blade coming in for her back she didn't have time to defend with her beskad so she grabbed her Fett Kal Knife and using the momentum to unsheath it and move it to try and block or bat away the blade so it cant hit properly. If all went well she twisted her foot to do a quick turn to face her and went for a literal headbutt to Kaia it probably wouldn't do much rather then give a headache and jog her brain around abit but she was working on the fly here.

 

[Kaia Starchaser]

The Mandos were definitely what they were advertised to be. Warriors and combatants. Kaia was not really ready for these people. Being a Warden of the Sky meant she was in space more often than not, dealing with smugglers, bounty hunters, and slavers. This was something new, and different. Frankly, Kaia didn’t care for it. She kept moving though, and when she knocked the Mando in the back, the next move took her by surprise.

She was just fast enough to move beyond the reach of the sword, but the knife? What were Mandos? A damned weapons factory? The block allowed the Mando to turn as they were hoping to do, but it gave Kaia and opening. Without the Force, she had to rely on her combat and smuggler upbringing. So when the opening came, Kaia did the first dirty trick she could, and fell to her knees. Taking the lightaber, she swept at the Mando’s legs, going for the spot behind the knee.

Should that fail, she’d tumble herself backwards, and away.

[member="Liset Vereen"]

 

[Tal Vizsla]

Location: Pau City - Mid Levels
Allies: [member="Malika Mantis"], [member="Yasha Mantis"]
Enemies: [member="Zesiro"], [member="Hylocereus"], [member="Davin Skirata"], [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]



Well, thank the Manda for hermetically sealed armor.

Throwing the nearly unconscious girl off him, Tal sat up as his helm's self-cleaning system cleared the contents of her stomach off his visor. The rest of his armor was going to need a good, long pressure washing when this was all over, but at the moment there was more fighting to be done. He regarded the girl again as he stood, making sure she was out of the fight for the time being, then reached out a hand to summon his hammer back to his grasp.

When his gaze found Malika she was, well... alive, at least. Which was good. Only the vitals his sensors were registering, and the pain he could feel flowing off her in waves, were not particularly promising. The enemy shotgunner seemed to be in even worse condition, however, and was being dragged off by another man he could only assume was an enemy. The biggest threat then, at least for the time being, was the other mandalorian. Moving forward until he stood between Malika and Davin, Tal raised his hammer in one hand to point the head directly at the man's chest.

"Leave or die."

His tone held a level of certainty that made the statement less a threat and more a simple statement of fact.

 

[Jak Skirata]

Enemies: [member="Tal Vizsla"] [member="Malika Mantis"]
Allies: [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] [member="Hylocereus"]

Fool.

He took a step forward, and then another. Back into the bubble. Not an issue. She was losing a lot of blood, and while he would have liked to repay her for not killing him before, she still had his Heart of Fire and as far as he was concerned they weren't getting hitched any time soon.
He cursed under his breath when another Mandalorian stepped between him and the shifter. He didn't have time for this. A loud explosion echoed down to the Mid level. Fire plumed out of the back end of the cruiser the Mandalorians had brought. Their ride was going up in smoke and they still desired to keep fighting this senseless battle. The blade erupted from the borrowed lightsaber again.

And then something strange happened. He wasn't sure if Atin recognized that someone, not a Skirata, was holding Gil's Heart of Fire or if it was acting on some other level. The wardroid landed with a crash right behind the shifter, cracking the platform beneath it. One massive claw reached out to grip her around her waist.

Davin was stunned.

"Atin!"

 

[Orn'om]

Mandalore - MandalMotors Shipyard

He looked over his shoulder nervously as the data transferred into the small datapad. Very few people had access to this room so when one of the head engineers popped her head around the corner Zeke physically jumped.

"You okay chief? What you got there?"

He sighed.

"By the Manda Harvey, you scared me half to death. You're lucky I don't have a blaster on me." She sniggered. "I'm picking up some data for a meeting. Those leeches want to see the final design of the Starbird and projected growth of the company with this contract with the Mandalorian Empire." She nodded before shaking her head.

"They just want to know everything about us huh?" Zeke laughed, Harvey laughed, the mouse droid laughed. Zeke shot the mouse droid.

"I thought you said you didn't have a blaster!"