Campaign Dawn of the Plasma Wars [NEO-RNR]

[Brent Warnel]

Brent's rifle spat death at the Naboo guardsmen. When the time came, he clamped the gun to his armor and waded into his enemies to kill with his hands. The men around him flowed through the courtyard, picking off defenders wherever they stood. The smoke had started to clear from the initial contact, and Brent got a better picture of where he and his men stood. The Mandalorians had significantly reduced the number of guards in the courtyard. The few remaining were now pulling back into the main entrance to the Royal Abode, and the Crusaders were hot on their heels.

Brent closed the distance on the retreating guards by sprinting in their direction. They fired their blasters at him, but the bolts lanced off his armor, not slowing him. He met two guards head-on, straight kicking one in the chest while activating his shock boots and paralyzing the man. The second guard attempted to strike him with the butt of his rifle, but Brent ducked underneath and grabbed the guard in a two-legged takedown, driving him into the ground.

Brent stood up, unclamped his rifle, aimed at the guard, and pulled the tri-.

BOOM

An explosion tore into him, sending shrapnel and shattered cobblestones careening into his suit and armor. Brent stumbled and was thrown off-balance; which saved his life as his helmet tracked an object whizz directly past his throat from a high angle, narrowly missing him.

BOOM

A secondary explosion from directly behind him knocked him forward a few steps.

Brent activated his jet pack quickly, launched himself in a significant leap across the courtyard into the cover of some debris, and quickly scanned the area. His HUD glowed a steady red, telling him he had taken damage in several areas of his body from the explosions. He dosed himself with stims and put his health concerns on the back burner; someone was still targeting him.

He scanned the area, but the remnants of the Naboo guardsmen were either retreating or engaging with his men, and he spotted no one actively targeting him. Someone else was here, but where? It didn't matter now; they obviously had a secured and concealed position and had damaged him, and he needed some time.

What Brent did next, he hoped, would give him that time.

"Playback, 15 seconds," Brent said. He activated his jetpack again, and again, and again. Erratically jumping around the courtyard, barely landing and then moving, making it as difficult as possible for someone to hit him. If someone did target him, he hoped he would get a glimpse of their location.

At the same time, a playback feed appeared in a small corner of his HUD, replaying the last few seconds of the battle as Brent hopped around the courtyard. "Stop," Brent said between jetpack activation as it captured the image of the device he had initially seen whizz past him. The angle was from up high, somewhere on the roof.

He activated his jetpack again and launched into the remaining Naboo guards, turning his body and landing a double kick on one of them. As his kick landed, his boots shocked them, and the force of the kick knocked them to the ground. Brent was a large man and had no problem lifting the smaller of the two men up and head-butting him viciously several times into a dazed state.

Blood leaked from the mans broken face as Brent said, "Let's go for a ride, little man."

He activated his jetpack again and launched himself and the Naboo guard onto the roof in the direction the arrow had come from. He grabbed the Naboo guard around the neck with his left hand, hiding the majority of his own body behind the man, holding him hostage. In his right, he trained his pistol in the direction the arrow had come from. The roof and surrounding areas were large, and Brent had no idea where the individual was hiding or if they were even in the same location.

Seeing no one, he amplified his voice and yelled, "Come out, little soldier. If you hide," Brent shook the guardsman roughly, eliciting a wince from him, "I'll hide."

Allyson Locke​

 

[Stevru Klamat]

⠀

Location⠀ City Streets, Theed, Naboo
Objective⠀ Defend the Planet
Tags⠀ Armel Ma'lur'kek'thwin

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Shards of glass bounced off of the visor of his helmet and armor on his chest. But he didn't have much time to react to that, or even the new passenger they'd seemed to have taken on. Warmonger zealots that they were, the Crusaders had steel in them. He felt a hand grasp at his combat webbing, and saw a helmeted head rise over the side of the speeder. On the other side, another head rose, gloved hands gripping at the interior of the open topped speeder. Two of the Crusaders they'd hit clung to the exterior of the speeder, attempting to drag themselves into the vehicle.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀For the second time in recent memory, hands closed themselves around his throat, a single, wild eye, half blind with blood staring madly at him from behind a shattered visor. Even as the hands tightened around his throat, he kept one hand on the wheel. Looking quickly to the right, he acquired a lock. A thin, mechanical arm unfolded as though spring loaded from the side of his backpack, extending the DH-17 held within it's simplistic manipulator, barrel jammed beneath the chin of the Crusader to his right. There was a sound like something tearing, as the pistol emptied it's power pack in a fraction of a second. The back of the plastoid helmet blew out in a gush fire and bone, the warrior falling away to bounce across the pavement, limp and pinwheeling.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Lurching forward, he drove his helmeted head into that of the Crusader attempting to strangle him. He saw stars, but beskar fared better than plastoid in the collision, and the warrior was shaken just enough that he could get his arm up between them.

"Jehaaty."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀His fist tightened and his plasma shield sprang to life, intersecting the warrior's neck. Their helmeted head rolled free of their shoulders a moment before their body went limp, fingers sliding away from his throat as the corpse went under the speeder, ricocheting between it's underbelly and the pavement in a series of cracks and thumps.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The speeder rocked as it clipped a section of flaming fuselage. There wasn't time to stop. Only steer. Gazing through the shattered windscreen, he spotted their one remaining option. One side of the dropship, still intact, wing wedged into the pavement. Boot met floor as he mashed it into the accelerator.

"HOLD FAST!"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Forcing as much power into the repulsors as the speeder would allow, the world tilted as the nose climbed. Sparks flew as the undercarriage slammed into wing. His view was sky, brilliant Naboo blue marred by anti-air fire and midair detonations. The speeder went airborne, pitching slightly to the right. It reached it's azimuth, and then began to fall.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The speeder didn't slow appreciably as it smashed through the second floor of an art gallery, coming to a bone jarring stop half embedded in some avant garde art installation, the hulks of old B1 droids cobbled into the shape of vast flower.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀His vision swam, fading in and out. His head had bounced off the steering wheel with the impact, and he was reeling, the blow having come so soon after the delivered headbutt. But there wasn't time for human frailty. He struck himself in the head with the heel of his hand and let out an animal growl, ripping himself free of the strapping and dumping himself out of the side of the speeder, rolling onto one knee to sweep the interior of the gallery with his rifle before pivoting and forcing himself to his feet, advancing on the speeder with his weapon trained on the rear.

"MA'L?!"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Despite the growl his helmet's speakers turned his soft rasp into, genuine concern was palpable in his ragged voice.
⠀⠀⠀

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Theed Royal Palace
Lysander von Ascania

Sibylla barely had time to register the chaos before blaster fire forced her back against the cold marble wall. The Mandalorians moved into the palace with ruthless efficiency, already blocking her path along the corridor. Her pulse thundered in her ears, but she did her best to steel herself -- panic was a luxury she couldn't afford.

"Go!" she hissed at her attendant, shoving her toward the escape corridors. The woman hesitated, but another round of blaster fire made the decision for her. She fled, disappearing into the darkened halls.

Sibylla's curled her fists at her sides, frustration igniting along with the alarm. No, wait, think! She had no weapon, no training for this kind of fight. But she had her mind. And right now, she had seconds to decide her next move.

Then movement right at the corner of her eye.

A violet glow cut through the haze of dust and smoke, followed by the unmistakable hum of a lightsaber. A Jedi? Sibylla's breath caught as the sight of a Jedi surged forward, his strikes swift as he deflected blaster bolts with practiced ease. The Mandalorians met his attack headon, one bringing his rifle to bear while the other closed in, vibroblade flashing the two now locked in a deadly grapple. Sibylla's instincts screamed at her to run -- but something held her in place. This was her chance.

She darted forward, her movements measured by swift as she attempted to act. The Mandalorian barely had time to react before she reached for the nearest fallen blaster. It was heavy in her hands, foreign -- but she did not hesitate.

A single shot rang out. The Mandalorian's shoulder jerked back, not enough to wound, but enough to throw him off balance. It was all the Jedi needed.

But now the Mandalorian's attention was on her -- and he was not alone.

 

[Armel]

Naboo

As the beskad glided through the flak vest Armel began to realize how much he dwarfed his foe. The Ssi-ruu was nearly a foot and a half taller and built like a freight train compared to the Zeltron. When Mal moved there was little Armel could do other then roll with the motion.

He withdrew his Beskad and readied for another stab when the lizards tail came crashing down onto him. A load audible crack filled the speederbed as the betaplast armour began to fracture with the first hit. As the tail raised for a second hit Armel's arms instinctively went to his chest and he gasped for air. He couldn't tell if it was lose armour fragments or broken ribs that gave the awful sensation of someone rubbing a handful of rocks against his chest.

Fortunately for Armel the second tail slam never came as the speeder barrelled towards the wreckage of the dropship.

"HOLD FAST!"

He heard shouted from the front of the speeder and Armel felt a sudden sensation of weightlessness as the landspeader went airborne. As it crashed into the second floor of the art gallery Armel was thrown from the speeder bed. Through shear instinct he keyed the control to his jetpack which sputtered to life and controlled his spinning body, softening his impact on the floor.

He lay still for a second before pushing himself to his feet with a groan, fragments of blue betaplast falling to the ground as he rose. He limped over to his beskad which was lodged in the floor and after a few tugs it came free. He quietly sheathed the blade, replacing it instead with his blaster pistol. His left arm still hung loosely, the armour had at least done its job of preventing his arm getting blown off.

He heard a ragged voice call out for the Ssi-Ruu and Armel let out a heavy sigh.

"You little shits still alive?" he said turning towards the wreckage of the speeder which was a few meters from where the Zeltron stood. He raised his blaster pistol and fired two shots at it. Armel's breaths were deep and slow.

"Nearly lost my knife ya know? Supplymaster would've killed me if I did." he fired another blind shot at the wreckage, the blaster bolt ricocheting off the speeder hull and obliterating an ornate looking pot on a stand nearby, spraying porcelain everywhere.

The whooshing of jetpacks caught the Crusaders attention as a three blue Mandalorians landed in the gaping hole in the wall that the speeder crashed through. Armel signalled with his hand that there were two enemies behind the speeder and he received a curt nod from the lead crusader. They then proceeded to spread out through the gallery blasters raised.

"Ya' know Mando, you really should be with us, no one likes a family feud." he said before taking a step forward to the speeder. "Your lizard buddy can join too, I'm sure we got some armour for... oversized Trandoshans."

One of the Mandalorians on the left flank began to close in on the speeder. Armel steadied his breathing as he aimed down the sights of his pistol.

Stevru Klamat Ma'lur'kek'thwin
Do what you want with the NPCs

​

 

[Lossa Aureus]

Skinsuit | Jumpsuit and Armor | Poncho
Lightsaber | Turmoil | Concealed Blaster | Dual Broken Core Daggers
​

The ride down was anything but uneventful. Her blade finding all the right spots thankfully as she danced along the topside of the vessel in a strange dance. Working the magnetic grip on her soles before switching to the boosters of her boote to slide across toward her next target.

A final horrid grinding hiss of mechanical systems signaling the failure of systems as she turned off the blade and scrambled to find a hand hold as the vessel spiraled and swayed violently beneath her.

All the while cackling with a mad smile as the ship crashed to the ground.

Bracing was pointless when all the tension in her body had been forced to keep her from being flung loose to force knew where. Taking a few steadying breaths as she peeled herself free from the plate momentum had tried to merge her with. A slight crack in her visor her the most obvious reward for the stupid stunt she'd pulled. Aside from being able to breath and move.

A win in her book as dust and debris filled the air. Hiding her presence for a short while as the scanner in her hud showed life signs nearby. Keeping low as her mind raced in a split second decision of how to work this to her advantage. Face settling to a scowl as she rose to a kneel, removing a Dagger from its holster on her hip and drew upon both the dark and light side of the Force.

The dust never seeming to settle as a wave of energy began to push and pull it to her beck and call. Another focus made as dark shadows began to appear in the thickening fog of war. Nothing more than shadows cast by her own mind around those coming out of the transport.

To distract and disorient as she slid down to the ground and began her hunt. Her moves slow and measured as the dust was pushed to mask her presence. Orienting herself with the life signs on her radar to find her first target raising a Blaster and leaning in to see her better.

Her hand clasping the end of the muzzle and pushing it skyward as a shot went wide. Rising to her full height while keeping hold of the weapon until her enemy released it.

Bringing it down hard and fast atop their helmet as they drew a blade in retaliation with a resounding crack as the Blaster shattered and dazed them for a sparce second at the audacity of the move.

A flash of light as the blade was thrust forward seeking a weak point. Finding purchase in the armpit as the blade was driven deeper until her knuckle plate threatened to break against the enemies armor as her other hand clasped around the mando's hand and drove their own blade into their abdomen.

A plate bending backwards against the Force enhanced press of her attack as it slipped between the plating to find its new home.

The man's feet a full head length off the ground as he struggled against her hold. Visors staring into each other as the strength slowly left his limbs. Near enough to death she could confidently leave him to perish, but far enough from it to make them listen as she dispatched more of their allies. The cacophony of battle both near and far aided her in some ways. A smattering of palace guards and other defenders taking some of the growing attention to the unknown Predator that hunted the hunters in return as she continued her careful process.

The storm of dust that preceded her getting more attention as bodies and blood began to mark a trail behind her. Comm bursts of attempted calls for help and hurried warnings beginning to make her intended prey wary.

Her next victims found nearing the entrance to the plasma refinery as the final tendrils of dust and force imbued shadows fell away. Two mandalorians taking aim at her as the white blade of her lightsaber finally ignited where her Dagger had been. Streaks of blood and scorch marks across her ensemble as her Poncho showed the plain signs of being grabbed and torn at.

There were no words as the Blaster fire erupted from the two. Now engaged in a retreating defense as her form blurred from sheer speed.

Splitting them apart as her lightsaber struck one at the knee and glancing the unprotected skin beside the plating there. A harsh gasp from the sizzling wound bringing one to a knee as she focused on the other threat. Extending her hand and winding the Force around them until they had been pulled into her grasp. Twisting once more to put momentum behind the movement until she let go and sent one body careening into the other with a satisfying crash of armor that sent both Mandalorians sprawling.

Her as her leg rose before being brought down with purpose. As if stomping on them directly, an unseen force settled atop them both as the dark side swelled within her. Overjoyed at the fighting, of the struggle from those unwilling to die.

Behind the visor her teeth were bared in a maniacal grin as she watched the two struggle beneath her power.

They had come here to plunder and kill. She would return their sentiments with gusto. Would hunt them down and break them before they could flee. Would use her bare hands if need be to end what they had started here. Would take from them their most precious treasure and wield it against them if need be.

"Perish." Her voice a strained hiss as she felt something give beneath the growing force of pressure atop the two.

A broken laugh filling the area as she reveled in the act. Breath ragged as she moved to seek out more of the filthy vermin.

Carduul Akahl

 

[Ninurta Slaabur'r]

Location: Naboo, Royal Palace Courtyards
Allies: Neo-Crusaders
War-Beasts: Zephyr
Jedi scum: Lorn Reingard Thayze Montserrat
Objective: Be the Diversion...

​

Lorn slammed into Rexus, the impact jarring his bones. "Rexus! The rider! Get your snipers on the rider!" he barked, his voice tight with urgency. "We take him out, we cripple them!" Rexus' dark eyes met his and with a curt nod was off barking orders to his men. Lorn pushed on, adrenaline coursing through him, a dark, desperate heat. He fought like a man possessed, each movement calculated, every strike precise. He was not a beacon of hope, not today. He was a blade, an instrument of war, cutting through the darkness. The air was thick with the smell of scorched metal, blood and fear. The fight was far from over.

The crimson glow of Ninurta's HUD flickered as Zephyr's advanced targeting systems synchronized with his helmet's interface. A warning icon pulsed in the corner of his vision—snipers detected. His gaze shifted, and the internal HUD auto-highlighted enemy positions across the royal palace courtyard, marking them in bright red outlines. Dozen shooters. Rooftops. Two squads more at the eastern archway. The Naboo defenders had realized the threat he posed and were desperate to remove him from the equation. Good. Zephyr's cybernetic relays pulsed a warning directly into Ninurta's neural interface. Incoming fire. Trajectory locked. Without hesitation, the cybernetic Kwi's integrated systems flared to life, activating its Xythan shield generator coiled around his reinforced spinal plating. A shimmering energy barrier crackled to life around beast and rider just as the first volley sniper rounds struck.

Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!—The plasma-coated projectile sizzled against the shield, dispersing in a bright burst of dissipating energy. Another shot followed, then another. Concentrated impact points flared white-hot, spreading the kinetic force across the shield's surface. The protective field pulsed, its power banks siphoning energy from Zephyr's core systems. The Kwi's red cybernetic eyes glowed ominously. He roared, the deep, guttural sound reverberating through the courtyard like rolling thunder. Without warning, his muscles tensed and his repulsorlifts engaged, sending both himself and Ninurta four meters into the air in a vertical jump. The sheer force of the movement shattered the stone beneath his claws, dust and debris scattering outward.

Suspended above the battlefield, Zephyr hovered—his repulsorlifts humming with raw power, thrusters stabilizing his frame. From this vantage point, Ninurta surveyed the battlefield anew. Taking out a datapad, a single finger arched and swiped down turning all the boxes from cyan to bright green. Boxes that corresponded with the cargo containers behind him!

The The familiar hiss of stervos, hydraulics and reinforced doors echoed across the Courtyard in unison. From the darkness within each container shadows shifted frantically, eager to be released from the dark and into the light! With a slam two container doors to pre-emptively forced to slam open and a alien shriek echoed above the sounds of war. A cry that could of stretched for miles. Exploding out the containers, Reeks charged into the recesses of the Courtyard directly into the fray! Then another container door slammed open and another and another and down the line it went! Each Cargo container releasing a small horde of its own planetary fauna! Reeks, Acklays, Nexus, Deathspine Varactyls, Webweavers, Katarns, Moufs, Ullers, Wallugas, Akk dogs, Minstyngars and even rancor pygmies!((Not full sized rancors))

The beasts that had been given combat adrenals and starved for only one purpose. To bring a taste of the wild to the civilized people of Naboo!!

"Hod Ha'ran, I dedicate these deaths to you! Stahya gar dalad'a olar " Ninurta reveled at the scene. Gazing down apon at the stampede of beasts and nature at tis most purest form. Chaos.


Animal Sounds:

Spoiler

 

[Zhea Nox]

ECLIPSE
FOUNDATION STAGING AREA | THEED
ALLIES: TF | RNR
ENEMIES: MNC
ENGAGING: Droz Munin

MANTICORE​

Sky-blue eyes flashed with anger.

A year ago, she wouldn't be so quick to act. She'd still try to reason. But the Galaxy has shifted. Taking the impartial approach was no longer an option. While the lead Mando'ad was still deliberating what snark to throw at her, she acted. In a flash, her free hand snaked out to fling the other marauder against a wall with the Force before he could even clamp the collar on the distraught woman.

In the same moment, she summoned her collapsible Phrik staff into her hand and with a flick, it reached full and strengthened length, mirroring the Mandalorian's invitation.

"And who are you to order us? All I see before me is a Jedi who thinks too highly of herself. I'd run while I still have legs if I were you. While you still have a choice to save as many of these pathetic people as you can."

"That's a no then." the Kiffar merely said, all diplomacy gone. There was no reasoning with a madman.

With that, the Jedi Master jumped forward in a flash-induced dart, weapons fully at the ready and senses wide open.

At least this Mandalorian wasn't a Sith.

 

[Feydrik Munin]

IF YOUR GODS WERE KIND, THEY WOULD NOT HAVE SENT ME

​

False Gods and False Prophets burned before Feydrik as the Rally Master moved forward. With the ascension of Carduul Akahl to Field Marshal, Feydrik was next in line to receive the blessing, the promotion. His savagery and violence was one of the many reasons he was chosen, but also- the deep potential for leadership, and a growing spark of wisdom.

But wisdom, art, appreciation had no place on the battlefield. There was no reason, no logic here. No waxing poetic about the state of the galaxy. The why of what he was doing. There was no time for anything like that. He abandoned reason, and knew only two things:

Fire and war.

As the city burned around him and the makeshift landing site was setup, Feydrik knew he had to seize the Plasma Factories, quickly. He gathered his men, leaving a contingent to defend the as-of-the-moment uncontested FOB. He held up his rifle, signalling the more junior Crusaders, squad leaders and platoon Commanders to form around him. A 3D impression of the terrain, and the entrances in which they were to attack, and seize the plasma inside were brought up. The plan was quickly reformed for the defender's actions, but it generally didn't change much. They needed to push in quickly, to prevent sabotage, or allow the enemy to defend the plasma refinery. So, the Mandalorians, reinforced by dropships and fresh equipment, numbering in the many, climbed aboard speeders and assault vehicles, along with the support of air assets as they began to move to the refinery.

---

The trek through the city from the FOB was quick, short, but devastating to see. The destruction that they had wrought on the city in such a short time was nothing short of extraordinary. Feydrik was riding passenger in the second-to-lead vehicle, the scout platform mostly open-aired. They bypassed burnt out defender positions, the turret gunner swinging to cover the left flank while the immediate vehicle covered the right.

Feydrik turned on his comms unit, connecting with the higher echelon of the Mandalorian Command and their mission control. He held up a datapad, monitoring his unit's progress, as well as observing passively the goings-on of the battle around him. So far-

The Royal Naboo Republic's defenses were unprepared for this level of assault, and the Palace was surely to fall soon. They simply weren't ready for an invasion of this scale.

"Command, this is Rally Master Munin. Moving to Plasma Refinery and storage now."

He wondered what the Jedi and the Naboo Defenders had setup there- surely something, but, against the aggression and expertise of the Mandalorians, not enough.

 

[Droz Munin]

[ Theme ]
​

D r o z _ M u n i n

| Location | Foundation Staging Area, Naboo​

| Objective | Pillage and BURN​

| Focus | Zhea Nox ​

​

Droz was unfazed by his comrade getting sent flying behind him as he simply clanged his blades together before brandishing them. One civilian able to make a run for it wouldn't make a difference, by the time they were done here, they'd have them by the droves like sheep ready for slaughter. The prompt response and immediate move to engage him left a smile on his lips. Good. He didn't want to hear the Jedi have a long-winded speech about morals or any of that other nonsense Jedi prattled about anyway. ​

​

Just fight; kill or be killed, that was his way.​

​

She was quick and unarmored, and had weapons that had slightly greater reach than his own, so he'd have to be able to make sure that he could get in close enough. He flourished his blades to make it difficult for her to perceive how he would respond as he shifted his stance as the Jedi master dated at him, moving to parry the incoming strikes with both blades crossed. He felt the saber and staff both collide against his defense, bracing his arms as her weapons converged before pushing off his back foot to push upwards and out to create an opening. At this point they were both in each other's optimal range of fighting, moving in for a headbutt against the Jedi's face.​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Tag: Sibylla Abrantes
Location: Theed Royal Palace

​

With the precision of a serpent, Lysander continued applying pressure around the Mandalorian's neck. The vibrations from whatever struck the armored figure rattled through Lysander's own body; however, it also heightened his alertness, and would provide the edge he desperately needed. In a calculated move, the Padawan shifted his weight right as the enemy began to recoil, wrapping his legs around the man's torso and securing the lock with his ankles.

Sweat began to form on his brow. With every passing second, he could feel all resistance slipping away. First, all jerking motions came to a halt, followed by muscles loosening.

But even then, Lysander's grip remained firm.

It felt instinctual.

It then became something more primal.

As a sharp and sickening snapping sound filled their air, he knew he had gone far beyond merely immobilizing his enemy. The blonde staggered back to his feet after releasing the body. Ahead, movement caught his eye– it was a girl, exuding an aura determination, with a blaster in her hands.

With an unseen thread of energy, the lightsaber shot from the ground into his hand.

At the end of the corridor, he saw three Mandalorians. Two were positioned together on one side, while the third was closer to him. They moved in on the girl like a pack of loth-wolves.

A flicker of anger gnawed at him as he scanned the scene— there was a battle between the light and dark waging inside. Each time he felt threatened, it was the darkness that called to him. But he fought to lose himself; not when she needed protection.

Lysander's grip tightened around the curved hilt and launched himself back into action. He slipped behind the nearest target, wasting no time in driving the purple blade through his target's back. It pierced with a sharp hiss. The Padawan quickly withdrew it, allowing the lifeless body to crumple to the floor.

He swiftly moved to her side as the blasters from the remaining two Mandalorians aimed in the direction. As more bolts crossed through the air, he redirected the energy within to create a shimmering blue barrier that encircled them. The shots ricocheted, passing into the walls. It wasn't without effort, as his breathing felt more labored now.

"You almost shot me back there!" he said with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. Lightening serious moments had become a specialty of his. "But thank you, anyway," he added.

Unfortunately, the barrier wasn't his most polished ability. Beneath the bravado, adrenaline was still pumping through his veins. "I don't think this shield is going to hold up much longer," he said, his tone shifting from lighthearted to serious. Lysander leaned closer, his voice barely cutting through the sound of nearby explosions. “I'm still awaiting word from the other Jedi. Until then, I will make sure you're safe wherever you need to go. I'll create a distraction and be right behind you.”

His emerald orbs shifted as the Mandalorian's began lifting their wrists, preparing to unleash a different kind of projectile. Drawing upon the Force, he felt its currents pulse rapidly through him; the darkness was alive with untold potential. With a flick of his hand, he summoned the debris scattered across the corridor. Scraps of metal and chunks of concrete suspended in the air before he hurled them down the corridor like a violent storm.

It cleared a path for escape.

 

[Goren Montross]

Sibylla Abrantes Lysander von Ascania
Gauntlet Shields | Crushgaunts | Crusader Assault Armor | Beskad | Kal Dagger | Mentor Carbine | Custom Vambraces

A gloved hand made contact with the head of a Naboo statue located within the Royal Naboo Palace, observing as the head detached effortlessly with a mere prod from his index finger as it smashed into the ground as pieces went everywhere.

"Yet another statue destroyed for my collection; at times, I question whether my comrades are merely uncivilized brutes." Goren exhaled deeply, noting that this marked the third statue of Naboo royalty to be defaced by the relentless advance of the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders into the Plasma Refinery.

Though the primary objective of this little incursion was to procure energy plasma from the Refinery, he harbored additional intentions including the acqusition of invaluable artifacts and weaponry for sale on the Black Market.

Based on his findings at this particular moment, there appeared to be little of value aside from the beskar armor abandoned by the deceased and there was scarcely a demand for used Mandalorian armor.

He was about to voice his fustration some more, until a rather large debris pile flew past him from the next corridor down. Either they were having a magic show within the palace or is was none other than a Jedi Knight or some force adept, it mattered very little to the Infamous Treasure Hunter.

" It is rather impolite to hurl debris at visiting tourists. I have not even completed the entire tour, and now you intend to leave me behind. I shall personally bring this matter of injustice to the attention of the Queen once we have captured her " Goren remarked with a gentle laugh to Lysander von Ascania .

Withdrawing the Mentor Carbine from its holster, and pulling the trigger to spray firepower down the hall.

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

PUT UP, OR SHUT UP​

As the warrior before her unsheathed his beskad, Briana quickly reached for her blade, unclipping the lightsaber by her side and activating the weapon in hand. A brilliant blue light shot from the emitter with a blaze, the sound of that familiar, consistent humm of revolving energy filling the space. "I guess we'll see if they answer you, won't we?"

Perhaps she should have given him the option to stand down, but, Briana had fought against Mandalorian's in the past — death would always come before surrender.

Brilliant blue eyes went wide as the Basilisk's cannons roared to life, sucking in a breath between clenched teeth as she braced, senses heightening and her quick mind filtering through the available options.

Trying to throw herself out of the way would only give him the space to continue on to the throne room and — immediate reflexes took over before her mind could follow that train of thought. Muscle memory shifted her stance into her dominate form of Djem-So. Steady footing, easy balance, wrist firm but fluid. Her blade skillfully arced in a dance of quick sweeps to parry the initial blows, sending them sailing and off to the side.

Yet, the worst was far from over, as a split second later the war droid's pulse-wave cannons unleashed their fury. A jolt of alarm skittered down her spine; no way she'd be able to deflect all of that. A shimmering Force Barrier was summoned around herself to mitigate the worst of it, but Briana felt the strain almost immediately; like trying to hold back a raging storm with the power of stubborn sheer will alone. Technically not impossible for a Sal-Soren, but definitely not sustainable.

She needed to take back the offensive, find a way to get him off that damned droid — and quickly, lest he mowed her down here and now.

As an idea formed, Briana gathered the Force into her legs and sprang off to the side, feeling the immediate burn of a glancing shot skim over her left arm. She hissed a sharp breath at the radiating pain from the burn, but managed to pull herself out of the immediate line of fire. The words of her fellow Council Members and their concern filtered through her mind, the warning for her to stay at the Temple. For days, she'd been running herself ragged, leaping from one thing and into the next, headlong without a clear destination. Were she operating at full capacity, would that shot have hit?

It was difficult to say, but it certainly did her no favors.

With a sudden leap, Briana launched herself into the air and toward the Basilisk — using the Force to amplify a powerful blast of Force energy that she shoved at Vreegan himself. Maybe she couldn't destroy the droid, but perhaps she could at least throw the rider free of the saddle and give herself a fighting chance.

OUTFIT: XoXo | TAG: Vreegan Fett | EQUIPMENT: Astor's Blade, Lightsaber, EchoStone



​

 

[Mother Askani]

"What have I sacrificed? Everything..."

FOUNDATION STAGING AREA | NEAR CIVIC SPACEPORT | THEED
Zhea Nox | TF | RNR
​

The skies over Theed were painted in shades of gold and crimson as the sun dipped behind the rolling plains of Naboo. The Foundation's relief convoy had arrived only hours ago, its transports touching down near their staging area, their hulls still streaked with the dust of crisis'. They had come for a simple mission—restock supplies, coordinate with local aid organizations, and take on fresh medical personnel before returning to the Hapan Cluster.

"Something is coming." she told Askani eventually when the hairs on her arms started to stand on end.

"What's that?" She signed off on a crate of supplies being carted through, glancing over to Zhea in confusion.

The natural, tranquil beauty of this world was a stark contrast to what they had left behind. Here, the air was fresh, the rivers ran clear, and for a brief moment, the volunteers felt the weight of the galaxy lift from their shoulders. For a moment, it was easy to believe that Naboo was untouched by the chaos gripping the stars.

Unbeknownst to her, the reach of the sun gradually felt further and further away, and then it had vanished completely behind the Mandalorian war fleet. Then the sky seemed to go grim, darkening, not with the coming of night, but with the arrival of of something much more sinister; the taste was in the air.

Then came the sonic booms, breaking the sound barrier as drop ships and fighters screamed through the atmosphere, blaster fire lancing down in precise, merciless strikes. The first explosions ripped through Theed's spaceport in the distance, turning ships, cargo, and durasteel walkways into plumes of fire and shrapnel.

This was organized warfare. The Mandalorians had come for conquest, and her blockage had interfered with her sensing it sooner. Askani watched in grim silence, but she didn't flinch.

"We hold." she said.

"This is no longer a staging area," she called out. "This is now an evacuation zone. We render aid, and get as many people out of here as possible."

Volunteers hesitated, stunned, but only for a moment. They had followed Askani across to Hapes and back, through crumbling cities and now right into a war zone. They trusted her; the had to.

"Find your leads and get what's already loaded and good to go out of here and back on route to Hapes, then start loading civilians onto the transports!" someone shouted.

The plaza erupted into motion. Engineers rerouted power to the ships, medics dragged the wounded aboard, pilots scrambled to prepare for launch. The Foundation's frigates lifted off, moving to cover the evacuation corridor, their shields sparking as fighters descended like vultures.

Askani turned to a young officer. "Patch this through and pass it along—If you can reach the Civic Spaceport, do so now. We are evacuating all we can. If you cannot reach us, find shelter. Hide."

A pause. Then, more quietly, she added:

"If you can fight—fight. But do not fight alone. For tomorrow's victory."

-----​

 

[Lily Decoria]

Location: Shiraya's Sanctuary heading to Refinery
Outfit: Jedi Attire
Equipment: Cross guard Lightsaber and Hydrangea Moonblade and Echani Shield
Tag: Valerian Calore

Her body moved like water, graceful and fluid in very movement but deadly as she struck and sliced at the Mandalorians. Making sure that the ones surrounding her did not concern the Jedi Padawan. She had been forged a warrior long before she ever stepped foot into a Jedi temple.

When the leader of the group called his soldiers off, dismissing them, Lily raised an eyebrow. It was a bold move for a Mandalorian to risk a one on one fight. The odds were mostly stacked against them in that regard. The comments on her age and the dismissive tone made Lily chuckle. It seemed that this warrior was underestimating her which was perfect. Made him all the easier to defeat.

"If I am such a weak threat, what does that make the soldiers of yours that I already cut down? Toddlers?" Lily commented back, twirling her Lightsaber in her hand as she adjusted into a defensive stance. "What will your soldiers think of you when they have to drag your crippled body back home?"

Lily trusted her many years of fighting experience and breathed in deeply, preparing for the strike from this Mandalorian as she held her ground. Refusing to run away, she was not a child in need of help. Lily was an adult and she was a warrior through and through. If this Mandalorian wanted to underestimate her, she would cut him down till he realised his error.

 

[Zhea Nox]

ECLIPSE
FOUNDATION STAGING AREA | THEED
ALLIES: TF | RNR
ENEMIES: MNC
ENGAGING: Droz Munin

MANTICORE​

Their weapons instantly met.

If it weren't for her senses already being wide open, she wouldn't have felt the headbutt coming. As it was, she only had a split second of Force warning, prompting her to lean back and bring the staff away from the crossed blades and up defensively.

The moment his helmet clanged against the staff, Zhea lifted a knee to plant a foot into his gut and shove him out of her personal space. There was a time she had been friends with Mandalorians. She still considered some of them as allies. She knew how they fought.

She immediately followed up on the created distance with a lightsaber slice directly at the neck while her staff was kept at the ready to parry if needed.

The Sage was by no means a violent person - unless innocent people were at risk.

 

[Vreegan Fett]

Briana Sal-Soren

Vreegan cast a disdainful glance at Briana Sal-Soren as they delivered a short but powerful verbal rebuke, prompting his eyes to narrow in contempt.

Who were they to challenge the might of Kad Ha'rangir and the Mandalorian deities?

However, he quickly found out that they were a Jedi Knight or Jedi Master from the sound of a double-bladed lightsaber roaring to life, its plasma blades giving off a distinct hum as they prepared to counter the swift onslaught of Laser cannons and Pulse-wave cannons targeting them.

Amidst the smoke and fire of the engagement, the blades executed the Djem-So technique with remarkable speed, appearing as though they were an integral part of the wielder's body. This would present a worthy challenge for the Field Marshal; however, he had no opportunity to strategize as he tugged on the reins of the Basilisk War Droid.

Redirecting its firepower skyward to counter the imminent threat posed by their Force-enhanced leap towards him.

"Akkk," Vreegan exclaimed in frustration as he felt the overwhelming surge of force energy strike him squarely in the abdomen, propelling him off the rear of his mechanical companion.

However, in a moment of quick thinking, he managed to press a button on his vambraces with his free hand, launching a Grappling line that swiftly ensnared the leg of Briana Sal-Soren .

With a decisive motion, he yanked his arm back, drawing himself closer to her then executed an uppercut using the elongated edge of the Beskad.

 

[Ma'lur'kek'thwin]

LOCATION⠀|	Second floor, Art Gallery, Theed, Naboo
OBJECTIVE⠀|	Get shot, maybe?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Hold fast. To what, exactly? The speeder took to the air, the upward angle first slamming Ma'lur down into the vehicle (and Armel), then going out from under her as they peaked and the speeder descended faster than her own body. Panic flashed white hot in her veins as she saw, in slow motion, the speeder moving out from beneath her. If she didn't act fast, there wouldn't be anything beneath her except the painful fall from two stories up, down into the waiting embrace of yet more debris. Ma'lur flailed in open air and scrambled to catch any handhold on the vehicle, talons running long, ragged lines across the upholstery, backseat headrests, and rear end. Finally catching a grip on the back bumper, the Ssi-ruu sailed inside the art gallery with the speeder, colliding with it in a heap.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀A shame that the cracked ribs and shoulder wound hadn't put the Crusader down. A real shame. Ma'lur blinked hard, willing away the black tendrils of unconsciousness at the corners of her vision. Passing out now would not go well. Sharing her compatriot's sentiments without seeing him, she grit her teeth and headbutt the wrecked speeder, the effort of it sufficiently putting the urge to faint to bed. Just in time too, the errant twin shots of blaster fire leaving scorched craters in the speeder's frame not too far from where she'd just been. Nostrils flaring, she tasted the air with her scenting tongues and cursed under her breath. Of course more Mandalorians would come to check on their comrade. Why not? This wasn't some backwater shootout over petty slights, this was an invasion. There would be more of them again and again until the skies were empty of ships... Or Naboo burned to ash. She sighed.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Taking a risk to glance out of cover, Ma'lur squinted. Curse her poor eyesight, she couldn't tell if those were blasters or slug throwers in enemy hands. Kark it. Throwing caution to the wind as Armel continued to monologue, she seized on the offer of switching sides and threw both hands up, bolting out of cover. "Deal! Deal! I don't even like Naboo, I'm just here for the glory."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀One of two things were likely to happen at this point, if Ma'lur had the right of these mooks. Either they'd take her at face value and lower their guards to allow her to switch sides, or- and this is what she suspected would happen- the whole lot of them would immediately open fire on her. The fact that Armel thought she was Trandoshan gave her the courage to hope it was the latter. Please pick up what I'm putting down, Prodo. Please.

Armel , Stevru Klamat

|⠀TAGS

 

[Carduul Akahl]

The fighting only intensified as they pressed deeper into the refinery’s sanctum. The fighters of the Hangar have already left, the brave pilots high above to engage in combat with the fleet. They had passed swiftly through to the vast doors behind, where the plasma being siphoned from the planet’s core through vast acceleration shafts surrounded them.

But the fight was far from won, for they were expected. Defenders lined the catwalks above, opening fire the moment the Crusaders breached the complex.

“Take the fight to them!” The Field Marshal bellowed aloud.

Squadrons of his warriors jettisoned upward, jetpacks roaring as they met the enemy head-on. Suppressive fire erupted from both sides, blaster bolts streaking through the thick, acrid air. Mandalorians rained fire from above, forcing the palace security to scatter or be burned from their perches. But for every jetpack that soared, there were those who fell—some struck mid-flight, plummeting into the abyss below.

Among them, several Crusaders bore strange apparatuses upon their backs, their purpose yet to be revealed.

Then, it returned. That gnawing sense of wrongness.

Comm chatter fractured with cut-off screams of pain. Warriors vanishing from the HUD, their signals snuffed out mid-report. The uneasy instinct from before now sharpened into certainty. Something was moving within the chaos. A flicker of motion — a shadow amid the fire and ruin. A blur that struck one Crusader down, then another. Smoke coiled like a living thing in its wake.

Without hesitation, his arm snapped up, wrist blaster primed. A single, precise shot cut through the din, aimed for center mass — just as the figure aimed to latch onto their next unfortunate target. A calculated interruption. A demand for attention.

The chaos around them did not cease, yet his voice carried through the storm.

“I should have known Jetii scum would be lurking here.”​

The words were cold, steady. The poleaxe remained firm at his side, unwavering as his second shot cracked through the air towards the same target as the last.

“Another fool, another parasite sapping this world’s strength of self. And like all parasites, you will be torn away.”​

The battle raged around them. Crusaders pushed past like a tide parting around an unmoving rock, their objective still clear. But Carduul could not allow this wretch to skulk in his shadow, bleeding his warriors dry from the darkness. The weapon shifted in his grip, setting into both of his hands in preparation.

“Come. Let us see if war deems thee worthy of its fire.”​

Then, the surge. A burst of flame ignited from his back, propelling him forward with blistering speed. The poleaxe swung overhead in a brutal arc, crashing toward the Jedi’s right shoulder with all the force of a warhammer.

Lossa Aureus

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Ninurta Slaabur'r | Thayze Montserrat

​

Lorn's charge faltered, his momentum slamming him to a halt just shy of the monstrous Kwi. He'd been so focused on the kill, on the rider, that the sudden, shimmering barrier erupting around them took him completely by surprise. The snipers' precise shots, meant to end the Beastmaster, simply vanished against the crackling energy, harmlessly dissipating into white-hot sparks. Then the beast roared, a sound that wasn't just loud, it was guttural, primal, a seismic wave that vibrated through Lorn's very core. The ground trembled, then the Kwi launched itself upwards like a disturbed demon, its repulsorlifts blazing. Lorn, caught in the aftershock, was thrown backwards, his back hitting the hard stone with a sickening thud, air exploding from his lungs.

He scrambled back to his feet, spitting out dust and cursing the sudden shift in the battle. The Kwi hung suspended in the air like some vengeful god, its red eyes glowing with an unsettling intelligence. The snipers, momentarily stunned, seemed to hesitate, their carefully laid plans in disarray. Lorn knew he couldn't hesitate. He had to adapt. He had to survive. He wasn't a hero. He was a soldier, and survival was now the main objective. He sprinted for cover, diving behind the wreckage of a blown-out transport, the debris a weak shield against the carnage unfolding. Mandalorians, still locked in close-quarters combat with his men, were now a secondary concern. The Kwi was the threat, its rider the target.

Once he'd caught his breath, Lorn gathered his Vanguards, his closest, most trusted soldiers. They were battle-hardened, but even they looked shaken. "We go for the rider," he barked, his voice hoarse, his eyes fixed on the airborne beastmaster. "The shields won't last forever." But then he saw it, the rider, hunched over something in the air, a datapad glowing in his hand. Lorn's blood ran cold, what was he doing? Then the click echoed all though the courtyard, a series of mechanical sounds reverberating through the chaos of the fight. Lorn felt a prickle of unease, a sense of dread that had nothing to do with the enemy soldiers.

His unease was justified. A container right next to his position erupted, its doors slamming open with a mechanical screech. He had barely registered the sound when a pair of Nexu beasts exploded out of the darkness, their sleek bodies gleaming with feral energy. Their eyes, glowing with predatory hunger, locked onto his Vanguard, their growls low and menacing. The courtyard was a cacophony of roars, screeches, and the terrifying sounds of unleashed nature. A warzone just got a lot worse.

Lorn barely had time to react before a Nexu launched itself at him, a snarling, clawing mass of muscle and fury. It struck him square in the chest, sending him tumbling to the ground. One claw tore deep into his arm, the pain sharp and searing. He could feel the beast's hot breath on his face, its fangs snapping inches from his throat. Lorn rolled, frantically trying to dislodge the creature, the smell of its rank fur filling his nostrils. His lightsaber, his trusty gold blade, was in his hand in an instant. Fueled by adrenaline and a primal rage, he swung blindly, the crackling blade severing the beast's head from its body in a single, brutal stroke.

He was battered, bloodied, and shaking, but alive. His eyes scanned the carnage around him. His Vanguard was struggling with the other Nexu, the creature's claws tearing into their armor, its teeth ripping at their flesh. Enough. He wasn't going to watch his men die. He sprang to his feet, his lightsaber a beacon of furious light. With a scream that felt ripped from his throat, he engaged, his blade moving with a speed and precision born of desperation. He cut down the creature with a brutal efficiency.

"Enough!" he roared, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Forget the Mandalorians! Focus on the beasts! The beasts are our priority now! We let them roam, we lose the battle!" He knew it was a gamble, a desperate roll of the dice. But they had to get a grip on this nightmare. They couldn't be fighting a war on two fronts, with beasts and Mandalorians. The beasts were a force of chaos, a wild card he hadn't planned for.

 

[Toby Perris]

ROYAL PALACE ARCHIVES
THEED, NABOO

"Come along, Mr. Perris."

He blinked. Did she just…? Toby opened his mouth, fully ready to refute how the Avian Librarian had chosen to address him, but he glanced to the cylinder in her hand, his mouth closed, and his lips resolved into a line. Now was neither the time nor the place.

"Let's not see this place overrun."

Toby gave the knight a short nod and followed after her, weaving around palace staffers and visitors, his own lightsaber still dangling from his utility belt. If you’ve met a Jedi, you’ve met one Jedi, and he fully believed in a tenet that seemed to be woefully uncommon in practice: that the ancient symbol of the Jedi was a last resort.

Soon they arrived at the location of the battle between Naboo Security Officers and… Wookiee Mandalorians? And Echo was quick to silence their noise with a greater noise of her own. Toby saw the intake of air, felt the coalescence of energy, and waited until just the right second to cover his ears - he had read about this, but had yet to see it in practice, until now.

People, tiles, plantlife, wookiees, and anything else in the path of the wave was unable to withstand it, and were knocked about, if not sent flying. Once the bellow died down he slowly removed the hands from his ears, feeling impressed, but not awed. Toby glanced over the mess, until his gaze settled on what appeared to be the leader of these invaders, just as Echo ignited her blade and the wookiee leveled his bowcaster at the Padawan and the Knight, loosing two metal quarrels at them.

Time seemed to slow for Toby as he observed their speed, trajectory, and air resistance, predicting and calculating angles in his mind until he had a targeting solution… and flicked a narrow push at each quarrel in tandem, just enough to veer them off-course and into the walls, where they exploded.

“Oops,” he said with a mildly cheeky shrug, “I hope I don’t get billed for that.”

Echo Athoth • Spayyghen​