Junction [GA/NEO] Battle of Onderon [junction of Onderon and Vjun]

[Careena Fett]

C a r e e n a _ F e t t

| Location | Sky Bridge, Onderon​

| Objective | Seize the Sky Bridge​

Careena cracked a smile from underneath her helmet as she watched the two Mandalorians in front of her exchange small talk. She could tell they were close and worked together often. She gave them the time to recuperate themselves and get back on their feet rather than strike while they were down; had they not been Mandalorians though, she would not have offered that as a decency or show of respect. Seeing that Atin was seeking around for a weapon she reached down to her thigh, unsheathing a vibroknife as she tossed it in Atin's direction as it skittered across the gap betweeen the three of them. He by no means had to accept it if he preferred to swing a piece of rebar at her, but the gesture was offered all the same.​

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She had no need to test her own strength as Atin called out to her. She knew well what she was capable of and the lengths she would be willing to go for her people. It was their mettle that she would be testing this day.​

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When the two finally got back up and seemed ready to come at her again she widened her stance and prepared herself. She steadied her breath as she started to breathe in slow, deep intervals, calming her senses to let her mind be more clear. She often boasted the benefits of fighting as a group, considering the solitary nature of most Fetts and Mandalorians; it was time to prove that point as she came to clash with Atin Tracinya and Anna Carden , the latter making the first move to charge her, coming at her after circling to split Careena's attention.​

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She saw the whipcords being launched at her, raising her foot up to avoid it getting snared knowing that full well if she ended up on the ground it would end poorly for her. Her arm however got caught as the cable wrapped around her forearm and binding it. Her foot came down as she braced and anchored herself from being pulled and brought to heel as she strained to pull back against the cable.​

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Based off their brief encounter so far, she came to the conclusion that the smaller was more prone to bold and flashy maneuvers from range while the larger seemed to prefer a more stealthy and up-close approach. It was a good combination.​

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[Vulpesen]

Loadout: Battlefield (Fennec Pistol replaced with a VSF Shiba)
Enemies: Mandalorians
Allies: GA
Objective: Raise the Roof


Domina Prime 's rage and fury was something to behold. Her passionate words were something all together different to hear. The Valde couldn't help the crack that broke off in his heart as he listened to the sorrow and pain. It was a story he knew too well, something he himself had lived. She wished for love and acceptance. And she sought it the one way she knew how. By being a weapon for others. But she had yet to learn, no one truly loved a weapon. Like the shiba at Vulpesen's hip, or his lightsaber in his hand, Dima could expect to be treasured. But love was reserved for people.

Despite the heart wrenching speech, Vulpesen's hands shot up, still with a job to do. With a growl, he focused himself on the stone and rubble above, twitching fingers and tail sending spears of stone across to connect itself to other bits of masonry, working on a latticework of support that could hopefully keep the place from coming down on everyone's heads. "Yes yes, she's an absolute dear. Miss Dima I would find you far more charming if you weren't presently trying to DROP A ROOF ON MY HEAD!"

Through the corner of his eye, he saw a bolt of red head towards the monarch. Stuck where he was, keeping the place from collapsing on them, Vulepsen could do naught but growl as Sig Dryggo made his move on the queen. Vulpesen however, was not alone. Shadow, a beast of a creature had much earlier left her master to his own devices, having followed his command to stay near the queen. The chaos made protecting her difficult. Avenging her would be far less so. Five tails, each with enough force to break even the strongest bones were swung at the mandalorian, aiming to either smash through his armor or send him careening towards the wall like a laserball. In his haste to proclaim his victory and issue his speech, there had been an error in considerations... gloating to and jetpacking off was to be done after escaping the kill zone of a giant angry battlefox.

 

[Haliat Kryze]

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| Location | Throne Room Adjacent
| Objective | Endure. Prevail.

Crushgaunts. Well, of course. His enemy seemed to have every other gadget he'd ever heard of hidden away among his kit, so why shouldn't he have expected those as well? Well, Haliat could berate himself for that oversight later. Right now, he was paying for it. Thankfully, Haliat's helmet extended low enough to complicate the task of solidly grasping his neck, and it was even more luckily composed of one of the few known substances capable of resisting the overwhelming force of the miniaturized servos now bearing down on him. Neither the inflexible metal of his helmet, however, nor even the durable armorweave underlayer, could protect him fully against the pain of that helmet being pressed relentlessly into the top of his spine. And while that on its own was manageable, his HUD soon made him aware by way of a bright angry red warning signal that this wasn't the true threat.​

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The jetpack was taking damage. He didn't bother to waste any further time on specifics. He didn't really have it to waste in the first place, and in any case, it didn't matter. Any damage could potentially mean it was out of commission, and if Haliat survived this encounter, he may yet need that. Besides, it had done its job, helping to land a blow that would hurt this Crusader through the armor and maybe, if he was fortunate, neutralize Trajan's own ability to fly depending on how well the invader's gear had weathered that impact against the wall. And so, Hal's response was as immediate as it was no doubt jarring to them both. No sooner than Haliat became aware the jetpack was being attacked, the maglock securing it to the back of his cuirass was disengaged, leaving the battered bit of kit to clatter down to the floor.​

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Meaning, of course, that there was no longer anything holding either Mandalorian aloft, and they would be joining the discarded jetpack very promptly. Between that and the extremely close proximity which robbed kicks and punches of their full force, Hal was able to weather the rain of blows landed on him well enough that he elected not to retaliate directly. Instead, he brought up one leg and lashed out with the strongest kick he could muster...not at Trajan, but at the wall behind him. In this way, with the two warriors still latched together, they were both pushed off from the wall as they fell, allowing the Nite Owl some small influence over their descent. Using the momentum, he twisted such that, while he couldn't quite get them fully turned around, they both at least suffered the same impact with the hard stone floor.​

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The impact knocked the wind out of him. But he still had enough left in him to move, so he scrambled to his feet with all possible haste. And while his left shoulder screamed in protest at the impact, his right had no such issue. He'd put that to good use.​

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Haliat's blade was not quite so handy as that of his adversary. An older weapon, an heirloom, it would not collapse for easy storage and use. It had rested in plain sight, the mythosaur engraved wheel pommel rising proudly out of the hip scabbard. But now, as the beskad's blade was pulled free to glint off the sun in the open air, it would do far more than just look pretty. An opening thrust served as a feint, intended to disguise a hard punch right to the face of Trajan's helmet. It would do little harm beyond ringing the man's bell, even if it landed solidly, but it WOULD perhaps force a lovely opening for a quick underhand slice aimed at the neck gap between helmet and breastplate.​

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| Friendly | @
| Hostile | Trajan Fett ​

 

[Jonyna Si]

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TAG: Yuri Maji Jenn Kryze

Carbonite was a nasty thing. While it wasn't much, all Jonyna could do in that moment was twist and rely on her guardian armor to protect her. And yet, she could feel it, the freezing of her chest. The Cathar winced as she disengaged, her repuslor boots allowing her to float backward before she switched options. She needed to keep the pressure on, even if it meant using some underhanded tactics.

Not that Jonyna was above that. She was a Rebel at heart after all.

With her tail, she drew her secondary pistol, firing a foursome of ion bolts at Yuri, before once more flashing forward to follow them, this time channeling her mastery of flame through her saber to enhance it's cutting potential, and strike not at his chest, but right at his arm. She'd done it before, and she'd do it again. Disarm, not kill. Jenn would forgive her in time.

 

[Yuri Maji]

ONDERON | IZIZ
ALLIES: MANDOS | Sig Dryggo | Domina Prime | Trajan Fett
ENEMIES: GA | Jenn Kryze | Jonyna Si | Haliat Kryze | Vince
ENGAGING: Jenn Kryze | Jonyna Si
GEAR: In bio

SCHISM​

The Kryze’s words had weight to them, it drew Yuri to a pause for a brief moment. He could argue with her standing, but it began to sound more and more selfish in his mind. The raging fire in his heart steadily began to diminish as he felt his throat tighten up. At the end of the day, he couldn’t care much about the Jedi, but his own people?

Even if most of them pushed him away, he still cared about them. But there was one word she mentioned that had him reconsider her otherwise honeyed words. A word that reignited that fire, bolstered by his proximity sensors flickering in the corner of his HUD. The Shistavanen hurled himself away and blasted aside with his jetpack to avoid the Jedi’s shots, but a shot still clashed with his armour.

His HUD flickered and his suit functions were offline for the moment, but it didn’t disable his ability to fight, nor his weapons. With a flick of his thumbs, he opened fire with both pistols at both of his targets and sent pairs of highly unstable particle bolts in bursting succession. ”When have any of you called me ‘brother’?” He snarled as he leapt back to avoid the Jedi’s strike and fired a few more shots at her.

His armour was going to take a few more seconds to reboot, but his jetpack seemed to be fine. He activated his jetpack and took off once again, only for the device to sputter and cut out. ”Oh kriff…” He blurted out as he was sent down to the floor beneath him.

The crash left him dazed, but he kept scrambling to get onto one knee while he raised a pistol to fire at the oncoming adversaries.

 

[Jack Sandrow]

Armor don't fail me now.
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---

Jack watched the Mandalorian catch the slug - barehanded - and his opinion of the man rose by two notches. That had to have hurt, he could have sworn he heard something crunch just now. The arm was clearly out of commission, but that hardly meant the Mandalorian was; in fact there he was now, catching the shell in his other hand before igniting it and preparing to sling it back.

"Are we suddenly buddies now?"

He laughed at that, and the armor's helmet split open in a ragged toothy maw as he did so. The laugh came out as a raspy choking chuckle, the sound of bark splitting and paper shredding. "Haw. Another time, perhaps, when the battle lines have smeared another direction." He eyed the conflict still clashing around them, doing some quick mental math. Unless the GA had some ace up their sleeve, this was going to very quickly draw out into a slugfest.

The crack of a sonic boom overhead drew his attention briefly. Were his walkers dropping already? His armor moved before he even realized the danger - the Mandalorian had drawn a saber and had decided that Jack's neck was the target. The armor had already processed the danger, made a decision, and with an inhuman burst of speed had boosted to the side. The saber barely scratched the neck armor, and the follow-through didn't even connect, with Jack skittering away on the multitude of feet that lined the base of the armor's legs. And that would have been that for the strike, but for one deep flaw - while it had not connected with Jack directly, it had sliced through his armor. And his armor was alive.

The plasma firestorm that had been raging around them was a cool breeze in the wake of the searing excruciation that washed up and over Jack's neck. The armor around him screamed in the Force, rippling and warping dangerously as it tried to purge the blood-crystal toxins with a primal fear. Jack cupped his neck, hissing loudly as the armor around him screeched in pain. His mind was beginning to overwhelm with the sensory overload, and he could barely think.

Compartmentalize. The armor's 'blood' stopped flowing, holding still for just a moment as the biological auto-repair paused. The toxin had already seeped into the helmet, down the arm, and over the chest; a radical fix would be needed. Triage. The armor wasn't a lost cause, but it needed to be exsanguinated immediately. Microscopic pores began to poke open along the affected plating, and Jack took the next moment to fire two more Buloke shots at the Mandalorian. Maybe he would catch them again, maybe not. He just needed to put the pressure on for now. Restore. The pores began to spew the tainted fluid from the armor - the bilious mixture could be filtered later, but in the immediate it would make for a fantastic chemical buffer to keep that Mandalorian from getting close.

Counterattack. With fresh Chyme surging through the armor, it began to ripple and regenerate anew, the scratch on the neck entirely gone now and the pain almost negligent. Jack took the moment to properly assess the Mandalorian. He had tossed inhibiting grenades - probably had more stuffed somewhere in his belt. He had launched inhibiting fire - a classic, with Jack being a plant. Jack thanked his lucky stars that he had the foresight to prepare for fire. The Mandalorian had also followed up with a nasty inhibiting blade. Couldn't let that touch him again - if it did, Jack would have to purge again, and that would take up even more precious Chyme. So keep him away.

The pauldrons on Jack's armor began to adjust, the weighty bulk of them shifting and streamlining a bit to form into multiple nozzles. "My turn." With a six-barreled blast of pressurized fluid, the armor began to fire streams of potent Noxii fluid at the Mandalorian, aiming at him and around him - if he dodged one spray of nice hot chemicals, hopefully he would end up flying right into another stream on his way out.

---

Sahan Dragr

 

[Trajan Fett]

R E T R I B U T O R
CRUSADER
MANDALORIAN NEO-CRUSADERS
CRUSADE | Sig Dryggo | Feydrik Munin | Yuri Maji | Domina Prime
ALLIANCE | Jonyna Si | Jenn Kryze | Haliat Kryze Vince
The Hunter's Quarry | Haliat Kryze
Armor | Gun | Side | Blade

PUSH IT​

When the two had even footing and Haliat released his jetpack from his back- Trajan did much the same. His had been all but crippled to be naught but dead weight on his back. The two were locked in a clash of blades now- steel measuring steel with every blow. They delved into the engagement with much the same willingness to eliminate.

There was little in the name of baubles and gadgets weaved into the cold steel of their second skins which would win either of them the day. It had to be won with mettle. Haliat was senior to Trajan, undoubtedly. In relativity- Fett had only been a Mandalorian for a very short time. But to Kryze? He was unmistakably trained and brought up in their ways. If he had any gap in his time wearing the Beskar, he hid it well.

What was moments ago- a brutal contest, a hand on the back of one another's skull before the proverbial saw blade had elevated into a more methodical dance. When he went for a swipe only to accompany it with a jab toward Trajan's helm- he brought his left arm up from the hilt of the blade- catching him in the wrist with his vambrace- using the momentary bind to lunge forward and plant a Keldabe kiss unto the man's Beskar plated skull, reeling back a strong kick toward his core.

He had a moment, a break in the clinch where he could've quickdrawn another volley or delivered some gadget of war from his vambrace. He relented, offering a faint respite before delving in once more with the blade- starting with the point levied toward him above his shoulder- clutched in both hands with a duelist's start, more akin to teachings less Mandalorian but otherwise, still effective. He snapped the blade up and delivered a downward cut, giving one hand free before he slammed his fist toward his stomach, firing out his plasma caster again with direct contact to the armor in the hopes of at the very least, jolting his nervous system, causing a break in his actions where he could press the advantage further.

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
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| Location | Iziz - Throne Room
| Objective | Enough.
| Focus | Jonyna Si Yuri Maji

Jenn Kryze, they said, was a wise and patient woman. Where others ruled by strength of arms first and foremost, she had earned her place through her singular vision, leading her people towards the horizon with courage and honor as their guiding principles. When the light became too much for them to bear, she offered them respite and purpose; through her kindness, those who chose to follow her became greater than they were before. ​

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Her fury was all the more terrifying to behold for it. ​

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The Crusaders were a rancorous lot, thumping at their chests and howling like the maddened beasts they were. Their wrath was a formidable thing to behold indeed... for a time. Those who survived their onslaught came to regard their boisterous displays as naught but that; a display, alike a lion's roar. Impotent and sad, to those who came to know their quarry, dressing down the arrogant murderers as nothing more than raiders in beskar giving themselves airs.​

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Deeply buried in a vain attempt to forget the past, the sheer extent of the Alor's animus was all-encompassing. One could almost see the glow of her eyes through her visor, so fierce did it become; each and every syllable she uttered carried raw power within it, cowing all those who heard her voice.​

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And yet... even her wrath spoke of the mastery she held over herself. Of control. This was no momentary lapse of judgement, nor the weakness to one's own emotions that too often lead to the Dark Side and the damnation it offered. No, this was a conscious decision on her part to give a voice to her recriminations, trading wisdom and mercy for overwhelming strength, applied surgically against the soul.​

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"Perhaps I was wrong. You may be nothing more than a lowly mutt after all."​

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The Mandalorian reached out through the Force, honing in on the Shivastanen's own presence within the Great Sea as a shriek-hawk descends upon her prey. Why was it she had deprived herself of this for so long? Absolute power was hers to wield, if she dared to reach out and use it for her own... and now, she would make an example of this pathetic waste of her mercy. There was no nobility in Yuri's struggle, in how he sought to kill that which had transcended mortal flesh and become an icon around which the righteous gathered, his projectiles slamming against her shield and beskar alike.​

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With but a dismissive gesture of her hand, Jenn sent him soaring through the air, crashing into the rubble. No grin pulled at her lips, and neither did she take a perverse joy from the powerlessness she imposed upon him, rendering his training all but useless in the face of the sorcery at her disposal. The Alor had naught but cold indifference to give this bothersome fly.​

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"Naught but a child throwing a tantrum, thinking himself a Mandalorian."​

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This time, she pulled her hand towards herself, forcefully dragging him towards her, using the momentum to slam her energy shield against his helm. With prenatural grace, the siren then reached for his helm, pulling his head back for her to smash against the ground.​

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"Unworthy of my mercy."​

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The Duchess drew her beskad once more, pushing the tip against his throat, where helm and breastplate could do little to protect him. ​

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"Yield."​

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The suggestive power of her siren's song reached its climax, then, sinking into the Shivastanen's mind with the surety of her claws. She had no more time to spare for a mourning child. Not with the palace coming down all around her, and the battle yet raging besides. ​

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Slight godmodding done with the approval of Yuri's writer.​

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| Friendly | Caelan Valoren Haliat Kryze Herrel Eldar Jonyna Si Rayia Si Varys Amun
| Hostile | Domina Prime Ninurta Slaabur'r Trajan Fett Yuri Maji ​

 

[Jonyna Si]

Tag: Jenn Kryze Yuri Maji
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A jedi padawan might try and deflect a flurry of blaster bolts. A Knight might attempt to absorb them with the Force.

Jonyna was a Master. She knew better. She had worked with particle blasters as part of her company. Built them for the GADF. She knew better. She knew what they looked like when fired, how they differed from your standard blaster bolt. The slight shimmer of the plasma, vibrating within the casing of the bolt, a tell of the unstable kinetic potential. Waiting to explode on the edge of a saber blade.

No, instead the jedi master used her greatest skill. The skill she had honed for years.

Right, then left, then right, then left. Bursts of flame and speed. She watched as Jenn charged forward, the Shield to her Sword. In that moment, Jonyna focused elsewhere. The room was coming down, the queen was dead. Jonyna did something any sane jedi would scoff at in the middle of combat. Her saber extinguished, and she rushed forward, wooden and steel tube slipping back into her coat, and she drew Liz once more, taking it with both hands. She wouldn't let Jenn rush forward alone. As the Alor held the blade of her people to their opponent's throat, Jonyna did the same. The blade of her people, the jedi. A blade embued by the Force, discarded in favor of technological advance, but remembered by people like her.

The old ways were never forgotten, and still just as deadly in the hands of a master.

"You best listen to her." Jonyna warned, a low growl in her voice. "I'm running out of patience for this, pup. Stand down or I'll have to bust out the Storm."

 

[Yuri Maji]

ONDERON | IZIZ
ALLIES: MANDOS | Sig Dryggo | Domina Prime | Trajan Fett
ENEMIES: GA | Jenn Kryze | Jonyna Si | Haliat Kryze | Vince
ENGAGING: Jenn Kryze | Jonyna Si
GEAR: In bio

NEVER FADE AWAY​

Yuri felt himself suddenly become weightless before being flung around like a toy. By the first rushing smash into the rubble, he realised the source of the power, but there was nothing to be done before the second hit disoriented him completely. The bludgeoning crashes left him bloody and battered when he finally landed on the ground, completely knocking the air out of his lungs. There was only so much his armour could do to cushion such punishment.

He was splayed out on the ground, one knee raised and both hands open. His pistols were lost somewhere in the flinging session. But even in his battered state, with the taste of blood heavy in his maw, he knew that he had to move. His suit systems were green, he was still in the fight. With a flick of his wrist, he fired a knee dart at The Kryze’s more exposed centre mass before immediately blasting at her with his repulsor. He needed to get rid of her before the Jedi could react.

But he was too slow. Even in his scramble to get to his feet, she was there already with a blade drawn. Sitting upright, his left arm stretched out to block her blade while his right vambrace spewed blazing hot plasma at her from a very close range. A sharp pain drew through his shoulder and his vision went blood red from the pain. She must have gotten through the gaps somewhere. Regardless of the injury, the Shistavanen scrambled to his feet and fired his Whistling Birds at his attackers from his vambrace and boots while he stepped away from them.

When he tried to raise his left vambrace, however, he realised that something was very wrong. His arm was supposed to be aimed at the Kryze, but there was no input… or weight, for that matter. There was nothing but agonising pain, and the red in his vision gave way to a black tunnel vision. His hearing deafened as well as he dropped to one knee.

Through the blackened vision and waning consciousness, he noticed his arm laying on the floor, along with an unhealthy amount of blood. The Mandalorian finally crashed to the ground as his body felt cold and numb. He could barely see ahead of him, let alone hear anything as an order rang through his comms, but one goal stuck in his head. He stretched out and, with a weakened grip, took hold of the severed arm and depressed a button on the vambrace.

:: Baby… help. ::

His vision went black and his body shut down as the pain finally claimed him.

---

The moment the transmission reached him, the Basilisk turned his attention to the signal of his master as well as the emergency warning of his vital signs.

Merely a moment or so later, the crumbling palace suffered more destruction as the Basilisk crashed through the roof with a mechanical, droning roar. It took very little time for Baby to locate his master and land over him in a defensive stance.

Two life forms were studied by a series of red eyes. One showed as green, an Enclave Mandalorian. The other, a Jedi, was painted red. The Jedi wouldn’t be a problem. The Mandalorian, however, was practically immune from his attacks. It didn’t matter that the two targets were evidently responsible for his master’s distress, the hard wiring prevented him from raising his guns at them.

But this fight was over. His master needed aid. His rotary cannon opened up with a stream of bolts by the Jedi and Mandalorian’s feet, along with a flurry of concussion missiles to push them back and suppress their advance.

A giant claw took hold of the wounded master and his ion engine flared up with a piercing whine, propelling the enormous droid up and out of the palace in an attempt to escape.

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: Jenn Kryze Yuri Maji

Two now.

Two mandalorians, she had sliced the arms of. Jonyna had given Yuri the warning, she'd given him a chance to surrender. Maybe that was wishful thinking. She knew well enough that Mandalorians would never surrender. It's in their nature, their culture. But it was also in her's. She was a rebel at heart, and not one to give up.

Yuri had been given a chance. And Jonyna would continue to give those chances. She had to. These crusaders, they needed to understand. Understand that there is another way.

All she could do was lean on Jenn in that moment. The fight was over, as she watched the massive war-droid picked up the disarmed mandalorian and whisk them away from the battle.

She was tired. Tired of the fighting. Tired of the destruction. She would help rebuild. She would help restore the palace for what it once was.

She just needed a nap...