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

[Vulpesen]

Loadout: Battlefield (Fennec Pistol replaced with a VSF Shiba)
Enemies: Mandalorians | Domina Prime Sig Dryggo Yuri Maji Trajan Fett
Allies: GA | Minerva Fhirdiad Varys Amun Rayia Si Herrel Eldar
Objective: Take on the Crazy one.

The first sign that things weren't going as planned was the sudden darkness that surrounded Vulpesen as the cloak fluttered around his body. The second was the tether of webbing that caught his ankles just as he shook it off, now wildly off course in his attack. The third sign was the yelp that escaped him as he slammed into the ground, quickly getting dragged towards the ferocious mandalorian and her slashing claws. "Keep the guard!" he shouted as he rolled to narrowly avoid Domina Prime 's claws, feeling one of them grate against the long hilt of his saber staff, getting a bit closer than he'd like to the squishy bits inside his chest cavity.

In response, Shadow stayed her course, keeping her defensive position around the queen while her master did his best to deal with the new less than ideal situation he had found himself in. "Aight crazy lady!" The Valde barked as he kicked himself from beneath the xeno, sliding across the ground with the action while swiping at the web with his saber. "Lets dance!" His legs kicked up, rolling him backwards and onto his feet in a crouched position. With a flick of his tail, Vulpesen send a trio of daggers from his belt rocketing towards Domina, each one aimed in turn at her center of mass, just as her own attack had been. It wasn't the first time he had met Domina, and he knew that even in a social setting she could be bent to wanton destruction. This was not a foe that he could afford to underestimate. Particularly, not when he was not the only one struggling to hold her down in the closed area.

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

arm bar

LOCATION: Onderon | OBJECTIVE: 1 | POST #: 3
TAG (ALLIES - Nearby) : @ | @
TAG (FOES) : Feydrik Munin | Nearby: Careena Fett | Hakon Fett​

.

“Sometimes you have to eat one, to give one.” - a young Caltin Vanagor’s Teras Kasi instructor on the subject of “hits”​

The takedown worked, and while he didn’t really bank on it, the jab at the knee was a miss. It also served another purpose in that it gave the big man information. He was getting under the skin of the fighter and Munin was starting to fall to his base instincts. That could be exploited. As the Mandalorian shed his backpack and much of his gear, Caltin cracked his neck so as not to snort at the threat just levied against him,

If this is such a bad place… He said, unable to complete his thought, having but a moment to shield his body through the Force to the best of his ability from the rib shattering power of a crushgaunt. It was not enough as he still took a serious hit that knocked the wind out of him. Luckily breathing control training allowed him to keep his wits, grasp the fighter's arm and drag him over and to the ground, only this time falling into an arm bar.

... then why haven’t you run like a hu'tunn yet? Caltin was by no means fluent in Mando’a, but he knew some insults.

​

 

[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​

Trajan offered up a low, gravely and pained groan upon the impact of the pair into the wall. The blade trembled from his hand, leaving both Eempty handed. He wrapped one arm up and under one of Haliat's, grasping at his neck from behind, between his helmet and the protruding rocket of the man's jetpack. The servos in his crushgaunt flexxed to life and he grasped at the back of his neck to try and wrench him away as his other arm- pressed the activation of his wrist mounted vibro blade and he swung out and wide for a violent jab.

He might have been able to slice at his neck or another dead spot in the armor- but instead, no, the jetpack. He tried to slice open the electornic compartments and control boards of the machinery, slice at the fuel lines, anything to stop him from being crushed and pinned against this wall before he delivered a violent slam of his knee into Haliat's abdomen to counteract the sudden loss of perpetual force pinning him against the wall.

A spittle of blood emerged from his lips, the productive cough barely heard past the vocoder of his helmet as he slammed his knee again, grasping both hands into Haliat's sides- betting on the force of the crushgaunts even grasping into Beskar steel being enough to toss his weight around enough to push him off of his form, allowing him to break from the compromising position of the wall.

He went to whip his leg out to deliver a kick into Haliat's knee, swinging his hips with leverage in the opposite direction, curling his first to deliver a punch upward into the chin of his helmet as he sough to break the clinch between them. No weapons. No gadgets or trickery. The pure, unrbridled song of rage and primal will evoked by hand-to-hand as he grit his teeth beneath the helmet. Ever indomitable as this Mandalorian warrior before him may be. He would cut him down. He would be the victor.

 

[Atin Tracinya]

Allies
Anna Carden | Minerva Fhirdiad | Others

Enemies
Careena Fett | Others
​

Atin would not keep the Ghost waiting for long. His distraction had seemed to pay off, as the woman's wrist mounted flamethrower detonated his whistling birds. It was an impressive technique, Atin admitted, but it also obscured him from view. Just what he needed. His cloak reduced him to little more than warps of light, and moving quickly, he repositioned himself. In the chaos of battle, Atin was less concerned with being quiet, and more with staying out of sight, and being unpredictable.

Atin circled the Ghost like predator and prey. But the Ghost was no prey. She did not stand like one. Did not behave like one. She was alert, and poised to strike back as soon as Atin made his presence known. A perfect stillness, calm, but full of violent energy.

But Atin was not one to be back down, or let fear or uncertainty hold him back. He didn't come from directly behind the Ghost. It would've been too easy, expected. Instead, he chose an off angle, neither behind nor to the side, and aimed to remove the blaster from the equation. His rapid swing came down, aimed at the unarmored joint of her elbow.

The Ghost was quicker, and Atin's axe never tasted flesh or bone or blood. Not that it did not still try. Swing after swing, blow for blow, the two were locked in combat.

Until the bridge was ignited.

The sudden burst of flames, the expansion of gasses sent molten substance high into the air, and shockwaves rippling up and down the bridge. Those closest to the explosion were dead, from the explosion, or being melted within their own armor. Where Atin and the Ghost were though, the shockwave was strong enough knock them both to the ground, their armor skidding across the ground, wind knocked from them both.

Then there was the flaming globs of napalm to contend with, descending like meteors after having been launched high in the air from the initial explosion. One was coming right for Atin. The Mandalorian rolled out of the way, narrowing avoiding having his face turned into an Atrisian barbecue.

(OOC Note: Minor control of Careena Fett taken with permission from the writer.)

 

[Feydrik Munin]

Feydrik grunted as he was pulled into the armbar. A rather unpleasant look and scene- and place to be caught in.

But, to a fighter that trained all of his life, an easy enough thing to escape. He pulled his arm in- actually pulling Caltlin up slightly with the motion. He clasped his hands together, interlocking them.

Caltlin may have been stronger than sin, and perhaps more durable in some capacities thanks to the force, but body mechanics was just that. He pushed both of his hands on Caltlins leg behind his head- and scoot his hips on the ground, eventually turning over towards the Jedi.

And normally, in a grapple, he would try and escape and go for his own submission. But they weren’t grappling for sport.

So- with his left hand preventing the big Jedi from securing the arm bar still- his right hand went to the side of the Jedis hips, a flurry of punches being sent. Crushgaunt punches, from Feydrik Munin himself.

Like he said. A bad place to be.

Caltin Vanagor

 

[Ninurta Slaabur'r]

THE BEAST MASTER

Location: Palace 2nd Floor
Equipment: Beskar'gam, Main, Sidearm, Polearm, Belt of "goodies"
Beasts: x1 Oggdo's
GA: Caelan Valoren Vince Jonyna Si Jenn Kryze
Vode: Sig Dryggo Trajan Fett Domina Prime
Hunting: Caelan Valoren

​

As Caelan landed gracefully on the other side of the Oggdo, thinking himself in the clear, Ninurta was already reacting. A subtle hint that Ninurta may be more than his form shows. In fact there were not many species that could keep up with a Jedi's enhanced movements. Ninurta just so happened to be one of them. To be considered the apex predator naturally. A falleen. His left arm shot forward with the speed of a coiled viper, the vambrace expelling a sudden burst of flames, erupting in a controlled yet fierce torrent. The fire surged towards the Jedi with an intense heat, meant to force Caelan back or burn him outright.

But Ninurta wasn't done. As the flames danced in the air and searing over the Oggdo's corpse, his repulse boots activated with a mechanical hum, sending him airborne with the torrent of flames. He rose above the battlefield, his superior vantage point allowing him to survey the room and his opponent. Hovering a meter above the fallen Oggdo, Ninurta looked down on Caelan, his vibro-ax still poised for sudden use or possible counter attack.

"Why dont you just accept it! Adversity has the effect of eliciting talents that may otherwise remain dormant, boy! And right now im dying to know what yours are. Maybe you will take my life, my arm, legs, there are so many possibilities!" Ninurta's voice boomed from the helmet's speakers, enthusiastic and thrilled, "But dont tell me you need a reason to fight. Your fighting to live!"

 

[Herrel Eldar]

| Location | Onderon Throne Room, Iziz
| Tags | Domina Prime Varys Amun Rayia Si Vulpesen

Herrel was still as Dima removed her furred cape. He didn't move nor speak. He kept to his stance. Yet nonetheless as he watched her Herrel felt a nervousness creeping at the edge of his mind, looking for a way in. It nearly did get in when she began to grin.

"Fine then..." she hissed, her voice dark and dripping with venom. "Prime will show you something beautiful…"

She was different now. The stance she took bore no resemblance to the more traditional one Herrel had taken. When her fifth eye rolled into the back of her own skull Herrel felt a chill run down his back. She spotted her sneak attacker before he did. Their attack caused Dima to erupt into a mad medley of motion. It was difficult to track what exactly she was doing, but easy enough to identify the important part. She was charging.

She went for the Padawan first and Herrel was focused so much on that that he nearly missed the attack that came for him. Just in time he saw the tail and quickly straightened his right arm While bending his knees. The tail slammed into the shield and Herrel had to dig his claws into the floor so that he would not be pushed back. The tail would go no further. In fact, the brief contact with the ray shield would cause a quite irritating surge of pain for Dima. Usually the pain touching the shields caused came up when Herrel used them for a shield bash. This is the first time in his life it had ever come up in a defensive context.

Unfortunately for Herrel the tail was only the start of Dima's violent assault. The speed with which she moved and attacked was frightening to behold. Within an instant she went from attacking the newcomer to attacking him once more. There was no time to block, the most he could do is take a few steps back. Dima’s talons slipped into the gap between his knee plate and shin guard. The few steps he had taken were the difference between bone rending injuries and relatively shallow cuts. Nonetheless unpleasant to experience, but at least he was still standing as he weathered the ongoing storm.

Finally, an opening seemed to present itself. Dima had turned his back to him and he couldn't waste this opportunity. Herrel stepped forward with a fist drawn back. But he had been tricked. Dima's tail and her lashers abruptly slammed into the ground. Stone was sent flying by this and Herrel had to abruptly halt his attack to bring his shields up. Several pieces of debris were deflected, but Herrel had obstructed his own vision. When he lowered his arms, he saw Dima’s heel descending.

Herrel heard her roar as Dima’s foot impacted his helmet. If he wasn't wearing beskar his skull would have been instantly shattered and he would be dead on the spot. His knees buckled, his arms went limp as she drove him to the ground. He could hear the very floor beneath him shattering. As his helmet hit the floor his vision went dark. He couldn't feel his limbs, couldn't command them to do anything. All he could feel was pain.

He heard a voice. Dima? It was all he could do to turn his neck and tilt his helmet so that he could see. She was standing above him talking to the others. The others? His vision was still blurry, but he saw a series of blobs. One of them was short and holding something. A spear? A javelin! The foundling!

He felt something inside him roar in turn, as if a great fire had suddenly ignited. His left arm refused any commands to move, the damage from his impromptu shoulder charge and Dima’s strike were too much. But his right… his right could move. That would have to be enough. He lashed out and seized one of her legs, pulling it out from under her. She had been saying something. What was it? Ah yes .

"C'mon now. Are sneak attacks and cowardice REALLY the BEST that ANY of you can do!? Prime is not impressed~"

He blinked his upper left eye twice and then his lower right eye three times. This was a command for his helmet's vocoder. Normally it would transcribe his voice honestly. If he was tired it would sound tired. If he was wounded it would sound wounded. That feature was now disabled and it would now sound like his normal, somewhat stoic, somewhat dull voice regardless of his condition. In other words it would now lie.

“Gar akaan. K’atini,” he said in reply as he let go of her ankle and pushed against the floor. Through force of will he compelled his legs to move as he rose back to his feet. His movements were slow and deliberate, perhaps even relaxed. This was a farce, meant to conceal the fact that he couldn't move any faster if he wanted to. His left arm was still limp, nothing could be done about that. But his right arm rose to a defensive position, shield still active. The foundling. He had to keep attention on him and away from the foundling.

“Ni motir tug’yc. Mhi n’ani. Kebbur tug’yc.”

the tripping was described as successful with the approval of Domina Prime's player

 

[Sig Dryggo]

"Death is inevitable. Those who fool themselves into believing otherwise are only causing more pain in the future.” -Mandalor the Ultimate
The Crusade: Yuri Maji | Domina Prime | Trajan Fett
The Opposition: Jonyna Si | Haliat Kryze | Caelan Valoren
Direct Tag: Vince

​

Sig could hear the fighting above. Beneath the ever evolving chaos and destruction in the throne room, Sig waited. This was the central safe room which was roughly the same size as the throne room above it. It was meant to be the Queen’s last bastion of safety, with multiple tunnels leading out into various possible escape routes.

Above him the metal ceiling vibrated as the fighting continued. Between the room he was in and the throne room above was just a few thick segments of metal. He didn’t know the extent of the damage above and could only judge based off the obvious clues that were presented to him.

If he was right the Queen was likely near the throne, with her Nite Owls and Jedi defenders spread about around her. Whether he was right or not didn’t matter. He stood at the center of the metallic safe room and eyed the far end where the throne above likely sat.

He was taking a massive gamble, but it was one he was willingly to make. Kneeling down he brought his torso forward and down, his jetpack now aimed towards the back of the room. A second later the missile attached to it had shot forward with a gust of air following behind. It would only remain in the air for a moment before it impacted the ceiling.

The back of the throne room exploded and hurled massive heated chunks of rock and metal in every direction. From the place of impact the floor cracked and collapsed outwards with nearly the back half of the throne room now submerged into the safe room below.

Standing still as it all unfolded, Sig took his two pistols out and readied himself. The Queen and whoever was nearby defending her, as well as attacking her, was likely down here now. The smoke and dust still filed the air, allowing Sig to fall back temporarily to a nearby tunnel, using the inside of it as cover.

His target was near. His destiny was near. But he still had a fight to get there.

 

[Biala Prahl]

Location - Iziz, Onderon. Approaching Sky Ramp.
Beskar'Gam - Main- Side
Hakon Fett Ran Serys Mahsa

​

Biala’s helm snapped to and from, tracking the rupings break neck speed. The Jedi atop the beast's back had something up their sleeve as she tracked them but Biala couldn't figure it out. Blaster bolts were growing useless and with a flick of her palm she dropped the spent powercell-reloading the pistol with a heavy hand as the basilisk droid followed each swoop and dip of the winged beast. Weathering each explosive round, Biala mulled on the next move as the fight raged.

Just get close enough she silently egged the rider on. Biala wasn't wisen on the way of the Force, but she frowned as the shield-like essense surrounded her quarry deflecting blaster fire. The whirl of the cannons deafening as the droid doubled down, though agile one of two purple blasts of energy caught the edge of the droid's cannon and caught her mechanical mount. Sparks flew from the internal wiring, likely fried and Biala's attention fell to the war droid, trying to over-ride the controls as the droid's movements halted and jerked. One cannon powered down, the barrel smoking despite all efforts.

“Kriffing..bantha-” Biala raised the butt of her pistol knocking on the dome of the droid’s ‘head’.

The war droid wasn't unsalvageable at least as she resorted to pulling the reins back hard, forcing an automatic turn of the droid toward the flighty reptile. One canon still online as it hummed back to life as the Jedi dove with the ruping for them again-she fired down her sights. One boot rose to stand in the saddle as her quarry streamed past. It wasn't ideal but this rider was more of a problem then expected and Biala's jet pack burned to life in a split second as she shot up in the air passing over the rider and beast. Twisting in the air as the jets burned at her back, her vambrace shot out as she activated the wire cord. Shooting out to anchor herself to the rider, throwing her legs out in front of her as she navigated the height-trying to pull the rider off with her counter weight. The motor in the brace strained and threatened to snap at the load put on, her jets sputtering. Biala's heart hammered and she grinned, laughing practically, her pistol holstered as she gripped the metal cord, diving back toward the Sky Ramp to take her with them.

“Get down here!” Biala screamed over the surrounding explosions, she wanted bloodied fists not a game of chicken.

​

 

[Caelan Valoren]

ATTIRE: Link
EQUIPMENT: Borrowed Lightsaber (Real one this time, not a training saber)
ALLIES: Jonyna Si | Jenn Kryze | Vince | Haliat Kryze
ENEMIES: Ninurta Slaabur'r | Sig Dryggo

"You're an idiot!" Caelan yelled at the mandalorian as he sprayed fire toward him.

Using the Force, he did what he could, creating a barrier between them that pushed the fire off to either side so that it wouldn't burn him, or anyone else. He could have directed it right back at his opponent, but he didn't want to do that. He didn't want to kill the man, didn't want to burn him alive inside of his own armor. That was the difference between them. The mandalorian sought to kill and Caelan sought to protect. The whole fight was a stupid waste of resources and lives.

He kept the barrier up even as the Mandalorian hovered above the corpse of the Oggdo, his eyes not leaving him.

"Some things are better left undiscovered! Life is better lived in peace than in constant search for death! Nobody benefits from this!"

Not least of all him, as suddenly the floor beneath him rumbled and parts of the floor of the throne room exploded outward. It was a good thing that part of the floor gave way, pulling him downward because in the commotion his concentration was broken and the fire nearly burned his face to a crisp. So close was it, that he felt the searing heat before he disappeared into a cloud of dust and debris, falling to the floor below, much as the Queen and several others did.

He grunted when he hit, but rolled over quickly. Thankfully, he'd managed to keep hold of his lightsaber, though the blade had disengaged. The debris cloud made it hard to see as he stood, trying to get his bearings. Somewhere in the mess was the queen as well as whomever had set the charges off. He had to find her before they got to her, so he moved in the cardinal direction she'd been from him, searching for her as best he could.

 

[Mahsa]

Mount: Rupert the Ruping

---

"Yes!!!" Their efforts had paid off and, as one of the canons began to produce a thick plume of smoke, the young Kazelrrian couldn't help but vocalize her excitement—accompanied by the high pitched thrill of Rupert as the creature began to climb back into the skies.

The warning through the Force came a second too late, the sound of jet pack blasters burning to life causing Mahsa to look back just in time to see the Mandalorian take flight as well.

Being lighter than the ruping meant she overtook the beast with ease, and the wire cord quickly found purchase as it tangled with one of the leathered boots the padawan wore. "Aaah…!" Mahsa barely managed to grab onto her saddle as the unexpected weight pulled her back, a distressed croon escaping the ruping as he twisted his flight path in a vain attempt to help his rider.

“Get down here!” The Mandalorian was determined to have her, using her weight and the thrusters as counter balance for Rupert’s movements. The padawan kicked that foot wildly but, try as she might, the anchor refused to loosen its hold on her leg too. "R-Rupert!"

Teal irises turned to look at the little one that clung to his saddle, a warbled protest echoing in the ruping’s throat as a silent conversation flowed between them with the help of the Force. "It'll be alright." Determination shone in her eyes as Mahsa nodded to the beast and, when the creature banked upwards, Mahsa finally released her hold when she was located feets above from Biala.

Gravity did its work then, accelerated by the wire that continued to tug the padawan in the Mandalorian’s direction, as Mahsa chose to greet her opponent with a drop kick.

Not far the ruping continued his flight path, his attention focused on the unmanned droid left behind. He circled around the other, wary of confronting it head on, before the sturdy hind legs of the ruping finally crashed against its side. Claws gripped the second cannon firmly before a tug of war began as the ruping flapped his leathered wings—attempting to rip off the functioning weapon his rider hadn’t been able to target on their first pass.

---

Apparel

Devices

Weapons

【✶】⋆【✶】⋆【✶】

【✶】⋆【✶】⋆【✶】

【✶】⋆【✶】⋆【✶】

Allies

Hostiles

Ran Serys

Hakon Fett | Biala Prahl

​

 

[Ninurta Slaabur'r]

THE BEAST MASTER

Location: Palace 2nd Floor
Equipment: Beskar'gam, Main, Sidearm, Polearm, Belt of "goodies"
Beasts: x1 Oggdo
GA: Caelan Valoren Vince Jonyna Si Jenn Kryze
Vode: Sig Dryggo Trajan Fett Domina Prime
Hunting: Caelan Valoren

​

As the Beastmaster hovered in the air, watching the Jedi scramble below, the sudden rumble of the ground beneath him was unexpected. For a split second, his visor registered instability in the floor, but before he could process it fully, the palace floor gave way with a deafening explosion. Massive chunks of debris and dust shot into the air, the room collapsing beneath him in a wave of chaos. Even Ninurta, as seasoned a warrior as he was, couldn't help but feel a flicker of surprise and was forced to activate his jetpack to not pinwheel on his repulsor boots. His senses barely gave him a moment's warning as the floor beneath where he had stood moments ago disappeared into a gaping void. His Jedi prey and several others were pulled down into the rubble below. "Tch... close one," he muttered, his heart pounding, grateful that he was already airborne, his repulsor boots and jetpack keeping him steady. Had he been on foot, he might have fallen victim to the same fate as the Jedi. But fortune favored the prepared...

His mind recalled earlier... watching Caelan repel the flames with the Force, and what had initially sparked a flicker of respect quickly turned to disappointment. The Jedi's ability to wield the Force with such mastery only to defend—to push fire away rather than turn it into a weapon—was a waste. His disappointment deepened as he saw a figure rummage down below. His helmet's visor HUD zoomed in on the chaos below. Even with all the different modes of vision, the Falleen could still see the Jedi clearly with his own shifting into ultraviolet. For a moment, the he thought the rubble had been pinned Caelan, but Ninurta knew better than to assume this. He had already proven difficult to kill.

He reached for the two fist-sized cylinder tubes attached to his belt—Dioxis grenade and Smoke Screamer, They would do nicely to flush out anyone down below. Lets see how well you can focus your previous force now. As his gloved fingers grazed their textured buttons, he activated them with a subtle flick. For a moment he held them to let them cook and then tossed them down below.

"I thought jedi were powerful," he whispered to himself, his voice full of contempt. " Run while you can, boy!" he shouted below. With another thought he leaned to the side to scout for his Oggdo.

Where did Butch go off too?

 

[Rayia Si]

Location: Throne Room
Objective: Defend the Queen
Domina Prime Yuri Maji Trajan Fett Sig Dryggo
———
Jenn Kryze Jonyna Si Varys Amun Herrel Eldar

---

Rayia hadn’t expected the vehemence in the javelin wielder’s words or the anger with which she shoved her. It was fortunate that she could sense them moving, reaching out to shove her away. Rayia staggered as she felt their hands glide across the knotted, whorled scars down her back before the infusion of bone, muscle, and fur that poured into her frame to defend her covered it.

But it was the words more than anything that cut the deepest. That she was in the way. They were familiar. Rayia had heard them before many times. The memories surfacing grew turbulent as the little barb pierced the wall of stoic passivity that Rayia had built up with regards to the past.

It dragged something jagged and raw to the forefront of Rayia’s mind. A voice, distinctly imperious and royal in affectation. One that Rayia had heard many times. The kind that expected to be heard. ‘Still not doing what you must? You’ve dissapointed me, Rayia. Why must… you always… insist on getting in my way?’ The shock of this phantom was like the stab of ice water dumped over Rayia’s head. And yet, the dredged up memory offered Rayia liquid clarity. A relief from the broiling storm surging in her veins.

A small, sallow smile graced her lips as she hauled herself to her feet and turned wordlessly to pursue Domina Prime . With her rage momentarily quelled, she could properly assess Domina’s movements and vibrations. Given the lack of intensity in Domina’s axe kick, Rayia guessed that it was a feint. ‘Give a kitten a scratching post…,’ Rayia chuckled internally as she surged forwards to topple Domina whilst her weight was balanced on one leg. She moved to take advantage of that when she felt the tail whipping around towards her. Instead, Rayia dropped to the ground, rolling away from Domina’s immediate reach. Her cheek brushed against the floor as Domina’s tail whistled overhead.

The mandalorian who had first fired on Domina was also caught in the attack. However, his actions soon proved Rayia’s instinct correct as he interposed himself between Domina and the younger mandalorian who had levied curses at her, managing to topple Domina after she had stomped hard enough to fracture the floor.

Dusting herself off, Rayia started to laugh in the face of Domina’s demand that they stop with their so called cowardly acts. “I… really can’t tell if this is funny or sad. You still think you’re a brave warrior here, don’t you?” Rayia asked, fixing Domina with her golden stare. Her laughter died away and she gave Domina a genuinely inquisitive look. Rayia wasn’t normally one to try talking to her opponents but she did have to wonder at Domina’s insistence at fairness.

“Come on, Domina. I know you’re smart. You see what’s happening here. What you’re really doing here, acting like a lapdog assassin. Or, do you really think you Crusaders will benefit by murdering a defenseless woman?” Rayia barged forwards, forearms held close defensively. She aimed a punch at Domina’s side, sidestepping around the lashers in the way. As she did so, Rayia shifted her weight to her other foot and swapped the direction she was facing. Flitting off the ball of her foot to recover from the punch, she jabbed a short, savage front-kick towards the inside of Domina’s knee.

“Tell me I’m wrong!”

 

[Vince]

Battle of Onderon

Tags: Throne room defenders, Throne room attackers ​

Heavy was the crown. On most days, the Onderonian Monarch carried on well enough. Hard choices had to be made and decisions impacting the population of a planet were taken on a regular basis. But this was rare. Her eyes had not been drawn to the destruction of an expensive vase or an ornamental pillar being destroyed throughout the fight. Not once. But she watched with dismay as her protectors put themselves directly in harms way to keep her safe. Jedi, Mandalorians and Royal Guards gave it their all, with the Nite Owls picking up the task of shielding her once her own guard fell to the Crusader onslaught.

The collapse of the very floor on which her Throne sat, however, was impossible to defend against. Any measures against such an attack would have needed to be taken during the last major renovation more than four years ago. Her eyes managed to seek the proud armour of her Knight Commander as the throne and its immediate surroundings started to fall.

Before long, she found herself on the ground. The Throne which she had made at the early years of her reign, had been half-crushed under a large piece of rubble. The explosion and following destruction had caused dust to fill the air, making it hard to navigate the unfamiliar new environment. Coughing, she tried to get back up onto her feet but soon noticed that her ankle refused to carry her.

Old lips that had parted as she coughed soon clenched together as intelligent eyes looked around for more information. Her left hand brought deep purple shawl to cover her mouth and nose. The right hand had found the Royal Scepter. With a look of determination, she pressed it against the floor as she slowly rose to get back up onto her feet. Intense pain coursed through her - but even then, she raised her chin high.

"Guards, Nite Owls" she called out, her voice low and weak. Eyes looking around, unsure of what to expect from the thick cloud of dust "Young Jedi" her voice continued, remembering the young Caelan Valoren who had been by her side previously. Then, she heard the light metallic pings from high above her. It was the sound of the grenades tossed by Ninurta Slaabur'r making their way down

 

[Vince]

Battle of Onderon

Tag: Sig Dryggo ​

The secret tunnel. Of course he would take it. Sig was lucky - for if he had taken the other route into the secret tunnels running underneath the Throne Room, a trap would likely have blown him to bits, despite all the beskar he had collected over the years. It was a moot point now. Vince had to keep running.

When Vince finally got around the last corner, his cousin was kneeling down. Without realising what the Mandalorian was doing, Vince fired off his weapon, causing a light blue cryo beam to target the center mass of the armoured man. As soon as he saw the first missile go off, the young Royal quickly redirected the beam in the hopes of managing to hit one of the following missiles as they left the jetpack. It would likely not be enough to prevent the Sig's plans - but if lucky, it the impact against the missile might cause it to explode prematurely.

It was all he had time to do before large chunks of the ceiling started to fall down into the chamber they were in. Vince kept the cryo beam on Sig as it did until he saw a glimpse of the Queen. "Mother!" he called out whilst rushing forth. Locating her would be tricky, however, for it wasn't possible to predict precisely where she would land and dust quickly filled the room.

Instead, he found Sig. Both of them had taken a beating already. Exasperated, Vince yelled out a distraught "What did you do" whilst putting his right hand on the Mandalorian's shoulder pad to shake him. Sig would soon find out that Vince had learned a lesson or two already. In situations like these, Sig had gone on the offensive in the past: This time, it was Vince's turn. With his free left hand, he produced a knife to stab into the assailant's center mass.

 

[Caelan Valoren]

ATTIRE: Link
EQUIPMENT: Borrowed Lightsaber (Real one this time, not a training saber)
ALLIES: Vince
ENEMIES: Ninurta Slaabur'r | Sig Dryggo

In the dust and debris strewn area, he could barely see. What he could do, regardless of his lack of vision, was feel and hear. So he easily heard when the queen asked where he and the others were. This helped him to pinpoint her location without the need to see her. The few Nite Owls that had fallen into the pit seemed disoriented at best, injured at worst. They weren't in much of a place to do anything. On top of that, the Prince was engaging someone nearby them. Probably the person that had blown up the floor.

"I'm here, your majesty," Caelan said as he drew near to her and helped her back to her feet.

When he did so, he heard two distinct sounds over the din of battle. Clinking, and hissing. He knew neither of those was a good thing, and he didn't know where the canisters were. He heard an absolutely ear piercing scream, which shattered his ear drums in an instant, causing him to cry out in pain, but he saw gas rising as well, which meant the hissing had not been good. He took a deep breath and held it, utilizing the breathing techniques he'd learned in training in order to protect himself.

But those techniques wouldn't help the queen.

Without saying a word, he grabbed her hand and pulled her away to the walls, feeling about until he found a passage which he pushed her into. It wasn't the best idea. In fact, it might put her into danger, he couldn't be certain. But the gas was more dangerous. He used the Force to temporarily seal the passage with a partial bubble, then activated his saber and moved towards where Vince was fighting the unknown assailant. The other Mandalorian was still up there, probably hoping he'd succumb to the gas, but he had to prioritize immediate threats.

 

[Sig Dryggo]

"My legacy will be death and misery, children will awaken in the night screaming at the thought of me, of my Crusade!” -Sig Dryggo
The Crusade: Yuri Maji | Domina Prime | Trajan Fett
The Opposition: Jonyna Si | Haliat Kryze
Direct Tags: Vince | Caelan Valoren

​

While his cousin had valiantly tried to stop him, the deed was done. A small portion of the cryo beam impacted Sig’s shoulder, causing him to roll forward and let out a cry of pain as the freeze spread along his shoulder temporarily.

He didn’t let that stop a sinister smile from falling upon his lips as the chaos from above spilled into the safe room below. As the smoke filled the air and dust began to settle, he could hear the footsteps of someone approaching from the rear. His suspicions were confirmed when Vince spoke, demanding to know what he had just done as his hand rest upon Sig’s shoulder.

Before he could speak he saw the approaching glare of his cousin’s blade. Anticipating him from the moment he first arrived in the safe room, Sig’s hands shot up and grabbed Vince’s wrists. Throwing his head back he would attempt to head butt him- regardless if it hit he stood and turned around to face his younger cousin.

Though he was impressed Vince had opted to strike him instead awaiting a response, he foolishly has closed the distance between them. Bringing his foot up, Sig launched his leg forward with all the force he could muster. The kick was directed at Vince’s chest with the intention of both knocking him back and keeping him down, knowing any air in his lungs would quickly evacuate his body.

“What have I done?” Sig questioned in return. His flamethrower ignited once more, a small wall of flames separating Vince from Sig and whoever else was on that side the flames. “You can’t run from destiny.”

Turning he quickly moved towards the back of the room. There, through the dust and smoke he could see her. Accompanied by a Jedi no less. Sig smirked. As he walked forward he could see other figured beginning to rise from the field of debris: the Nite Owls.

Sig wasted no time sprinting forward, letting out a war-cry as he did so. Grabbing the head of the closest foe he used all his force to throw them into the next. As they fell he removed his carbine and used the butt of the rifle to swing wildly in a large circular motion; striking anything and anyone in his path with extreme force.

As he finished his attack he dropped the final smoke grenade on his belt, using the cover of it, and the larger slabs of ruined metal, to sneak away from the rest of the Nite Owls.

It was then that he has finally saw the Jedi and Queen. He had thrown the Queen into the closest passage in an attempt to shield her from himself and the other Neo-Crusader forces.

The Jedi had their saber ignited and seemed ready to fight. Sig was no stranger to warfare or combat with Jedi. Using the Force was like adrenaline to them. Sig knew the force field the Jedi was generating was surely draining. An advantage he’d exploit.

Stepping forward he drew his duel pistols and began firing, one toward his upper torso and one to at his legs. As he got closer, however, he stopped and planted himself. He was about six feet from the Jedi, nine from the force field, twelve from the Queen.

Twelve feet was that stood between him and his prize. It was time to collect.

 

[Careena Fett]

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

| Location | Sky Bridge, Onderon​

| Objective | Seize the Sky Bridge​

Dha Prudii seemed to have vanished from the battlefield without a trace, lost in the chaos of smoke and the dogfights in the surrounding airspace.​

​

Adrenaline pumped through Careena's veins, her senses pushed to their limits as she drowned out everything else around her to focus purely on her immediate surroundings. She was at the eye of the storm, a serene calmness that stood amidst the chaos around her, serene and at peace; the battlefield was where she felt closest to being at home than any planet or frontier she had ever been on. A slow inhale of breath from beneath her helmeted face and a slow exhale, a smile set upon her lips. Her eyes snapped off to her periphery, spotting the slightest shimmer in the air like a mirage as Atin Tracinya finally made their move.​

​

Pure instinct took over as she shifted her body, twisting and swinging simultaneously to parry the incoming swing of the incoming axe, sparks flying as blade met blade, skittering off their deadly edges as the brief shower bounced off of Atin's cloaked form. Using her blaster from up close wasn't as effective, but she still attempted to weave it between parries and swings, trying to aim her blaster only to feel the resistance of an arm stop her muzzle from being aimed directly at him, occasionally blaster bolts flying as the two were locked in close combat, shots whizzing past Atin's helmeted head.​

​

The younger Mandalorian had an edge in defending himself since she couldn't properly see and anticipate his movements, working off of only what made the most sense when it came to following up after he blocked one of her attacks and the brief moments when sparks danced across his armor to reveal his form and stance whenever blade clashed against blade. She was impressed to say the least, but then again she had high expectations for those who took the title of Mandalorian. Hope remained for the wayward and lost amongst their brothers and sisters yet.​

​

Their fight was interrupted by the intense tremors as she glanced up to see the bridge above them erupt in flames, feeling her footing give out from beneath her as she was sent to the floor, tumbling as she hit the ground hard. She groaned and cried out as she slammed into the ground, her blaster skittering away from her grasp. She took in a sharp breath as she swiftly moved to regain her footing, getting her hands under her as she pushed off one foot, rolling forward and letting the momentum get her feet planted firmly back on the ground before standing back up, narrowly avoiding the incoming napalm. She quickly flicked her wrist as a vibroblade extended from her knuckle plate, her fingers curling into a fist as she raised both her arms up, the beskad still clenched tightly in the other.​

​

A trickle of blood leaked from the corners of her mouth from beneath her helmet, her eyes darting from one end of her HUD to the other as she called out, <"Show me your resolve young warrior! Show me how worthy the cause you fight for is, and I will show you the true ferocity of our people that I fight for!">. Her tongue slipped out as she licked and cleared away the taste of copper from her lips.​

​

She was enjoying herself despite all things. The gruesome death of her comrades only fueled her vigor and strengthened her resolve as well as the reinforcements coming to fight. They fought with the memories and burdens of their fallen comrades, to honor their deaths by continuing their battles; that was their way - not to lose sight or faith in the direst of circumstances or battles but to fight with an even brighter flame. Only then could they truly honor the sacrifices made and the lives given to the Crusades - their songs would continue to be sung by those who survived and succeeded them.​

​

Those who sided with the Alliance chose to side against their people, but she did not hate them for it. Perhaps this battle would enlighten her. Through this engagement perhaps she would understand them better, and perhaps someday find a way to bring them back to where they truly belonged; Home amongst their own people.​

​

​

Atin Tracinya | Anna Carden​

 

[Domina Prime]

​

If You A Demon Show Your Damn Claws
And i'll Introduce The Blood To Flame~
◈
I Was Evil From The Damn Start
I Would Dance on Your Bloody Grave
​

LOCATION: The Throne
ATTIRE: Primes Beskar'gam
OBJECTIVE: Capture The Queen UNLEASH HELL

ALLIES: Sig Dryggo | Yuri Maji | Trajan Fett| Ninurta Slaabur'r |

ENEMIES: Haliat Kryze | Jenn Kryze | Caelan Valoren | Jonyna Si | Vince

CHOSEN CHAMPIONS: Rayia Si | Varys Amun | Herrel Eldar | Vulpesen ​

As Domina Prime stood amidst the chaos, the ground fractured beneath her heel and her opponents staggered. She basked in the raw power of her onslaught, her might unwavering, but in the next moment, Herrel Eldar , bruised and bloodied but still defiant, surged forward with what little strength he had left as Varys Amun ducked away from the chaos. His armored hand shot out, grabbing hold of Domina's leg just as she was about to launch another attack. Her movement halted, caught off-guard by Herrel's last-ditch effort. She snarled, her tail whipping in fury as she glanced down at him, but the distraction was enough.

Another figure emerged from the smoke. The warrior Vulpesen , agile and precise, hurled three blades at Domina with deadly accuracy. Her alien reflexes kicked in, two of her four arms rising instinctively to block the first two knives, sending them clattering to the ground. But the third knife, small and perfectly aimed, slipped through her defense, embedding itself into the tiny gap between her thick scales at the base of her neck.

Her eyes widened in shock as a burst of her glowing azure blood sputtered from the wound. She gasped, her breath hitching, and choked on the metallic taste that filled her mouth. Blood dribbled between her sharp teeth as her powerful body faltered, her stance wobbling. A violent, gurgling cough escaped her throat, her immense form heaving as she struggled to keep her balance.

Seizing the opportunity, the Padawan Rayia Si , lunged forward. With a swift, precise kick to Domina's inner knee, the massive alien warrior crumpled to the ground, falling to her knees with a thunderous crash that shook the throne room. The Cathar, fueled by desperation and hope, climbed atop Domina’s broad shoulders, clawing at her face in a frenzied attempt to subdue the beast.

"I… really can’t tell if this is funny or sad. You still think you’re a brave warrior here, don’t you?" the Padawan shouted, confused by the motives of the mysterious Primarch. “Come on, Domina. I know you’re smart. You see what’s happening here. What you’re really doing here, acting like a lapdog assassin. Or, do you really think you Crusaders will benefit by murdering a defenseless woman?”

Domina's many eyes blinked rapidly, the world around her blurring as the pain intensified. Her head hung low, the Cathar's words piercing through her fog of anger. Her arms, trembling from the pain and exhaustion, shot up and grabbed the Padawan’s wrists in a vice-like grip. The would struggle, but Domina held Rayia in place, her eyes suddenly wet with tears. Those five dilated pupils, once filled with rage, now shone with a deep, wounded sorrow.

"Because…This One…doesn't know how to do anything else~" Domina whined lowly, her voice breaking as she coughed violently, more blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. The tears streaming from her eyes were alien and luminous, reflecting the deep hurt she had carried for so long. "This is all Dima was made for! All This One ever wanted was to be precious, to be beautiful...beloved. Like you godling~" She spat the words, bitterness clinging to her every syllable.

Some may look in disbelief as for a moment, the Xeno showed just how vulnerable she was beneath all that primitive instinct and thirst for domination. Domina's grip tightened on the Cathars wrist to attempt to hold her into place. Her voice grew more desperate, more raw. "But Dima wasn't good enough! No, you godborn only ever saw a monster! Abomination! Just some…stupid THING!" she snarled, her voice trembling, "Godlings wanted Dimas blood, Dimas soul—but you can't have it! It belongs to the Manda now! Only The Allfathers understand Dimas heart!" Her pain and rage intertwined, her voice hoarse with agony and frustration. "Prime was made a villain from the start... And now you want This One to stop? Why? Because some old…woman? Prime already made you a deal…and like the gods you are you refused~"

The words hung heavy in the air, the brutal truth of her existence laid bare. Her towering form shook, but not just from rage—from the heartbreak of her fate.

"You aren't wrong kitten...Dima is just...another monster that needs killing...yes? Maybe one day...you'll be the one to do it~" She sobbed, sealing her eyes as her breath hitched. Breaking apart as teared streamed down her five eyes. "Maybe then...Dima can be just as beautiful as you~" she purred before snapping her eyes back open, pupils dilated to fine pins of fury and anguish.

She roared, the sound feral and guttural, as the weight of the assault on her finally pushed her to her breaking point. The combined efforts of the four attackers, each trying to pin her down, unleashed something primal within her. With a sudden, wild surge of strength, Domina threw her arms out, her tail whipping violently as her entire body writhed in fury. Her four arms, her twin lashers, and her massive tail flailed and lashed in every direction, forcing her attackers to struggle holding her down.

"If Prime cannot be loved," she growled, her voice low and dangerous, "Then Prime will be FEARED!"

Her words were a promise, one she would keep. Her body convulsed as something deep within her began to stir, a powerful chemical reaction brewing in her core. Azure embers and smoke billowed from her nostrils as her teeth sparked with crackling light. The very air around her seemed to sizzle with energy as the volatile mixture of methane and ionized plasma ignited within her chest.

Without warning, Domina opened her segmented jaws wide, and from the depths of her maw, she unleashed a devastating blast of explosive plasma. The searing blue-white fire exploded from her mouth in a furious torrent, aimed not at her attackers, but at the ceiling above. Stone and marble columns crumbled as the plasma blast ripped through the structure, sending debris crashing down upon the throne room in a cascade of destruction.

Her attackers, would of course be FORCED to scatter despite their current advantage, forced to flee from the falling rubble as the ceiling collapsed around them. Huge chunks of stone fell like meteors, threatening to crush anyone caught beneath them. Domina, in the midst of her blind rage, fired another blast, obliterating the debris and turning most of it to dust and ash.

She leaped to her feet with a swift, powerful motion, her tail flicking violently as her claws dug deep into the marble beneath her. Blood still oozed from her wound, but her fury overpowered the pain. Her five eyes gleamed with a terrifying intensity, and she roared again, spewing azure flame at Herrel Eldar , Rayia Si , Vulpesen and Varys Amun . Her neck twisting and flicking from one target to the next as her lashers whirled around her like a defensive whirlwind of talons.

Her raw, girlish cries echoed through the chaos, each one more heart-wrenching than the last. She fought like a cornered animal, a primal being stripped of everything but its most basic instincts. And yet, even amidst the rage and destruction, her tears continued to flow—a heartbreaking reminder that beneath the monstrous power, there was still that lost, lonely foundling with a dream.

But in the end, the world had made her a monster. And now, it would face the full wrath of Prime.

 

[Anna Carden]

Allies
Atin Tracinya | Minerva Fhirdiad | ???

Enemy
Careena Fett | ???
​

The Alderaani guards were starting to get overwhelmed as more and more Crusaders slowly advanced and outfought them, and the Raven's sniper could only take out so much before she started to run out of gas canisters. Swapping her last piece of ammunition, she watched from the distance as the napalm wave hit, instantly immolating the Crusaders far back and forcing the others to scatter into the skies. She called out to Minerva Fhirdiad from her comms "Good hit, their advances are halted."

Turning her attention somewhere else, she noticed the duel was still continuing as napalm globs spread to where the pair were fighting. Wasting no time, Anna quickly abandoned her sniper rifle and flew towards Atin. His armor would absorb the force of the blast, but not prolonged exposure to napalm fire.

He rolled just in time to avoid the napalm spread. Still, she grabbed Atin's collar and dragged him several meters to safety before landing. "You expect me to just stand and watch?"

Turning to face the Ghost, she extended both of her arms, and flames began to shoot out of both of her armored wrists. Perhaps intruding on the duel like this was disrespectful. But honor and tradition won't save the people she cared about — action does. And right now, thousands of soldiers are risking their lives for this battle; the battle that won't end unless the key leaders are dealt with.

As she slowly walked and closed the distance cautiously towards Careena Fett while leaving two flame trails with her wrist flamethrowers, Anna nodded slightly towards her enemy, acknowledging what she was doing right now was an insult to their own people's culture.

Knowing her close-combat capabilities aren't as great as both fighters, she opted for something she's good at; her jetpack fired at maximum output, propelling Anna toward the Ghost of Clan Fett with incredible speed still with flamethrowers active, aiming to deliver a tackle obscured by the heat of flames.