Faction [GA | NEO] Keshi Raid

[Roman Vossari]

Tags: Corazona von Ascania

​

Roman's expression shifted from concern to cautious determination as he watched Cora fight through her pain. The way she favored her left side sent a fresh wave of worry through him, but he knew better than to voice it now. She had made her choice—to push forward for the sake of the villagers trapped in that chaos, and he would stand by her side.

With a firm nod of understanding, Roman turned his gaze toward the square where terrified screams sliced through the air like blaster fire. Families huddled together, their faces etched with fear, while Mandalorian sentinels stood like statues, a grim reminder of the power they wielded. He took a breath, steeling himself for what came next.

Suddenly, Cora held him back. He caught the glimmer of a plan forming in her eyes and felt a rush of urgency that she radiated. "Wait, what!" he whispered, but she was already bounding away.

He stood still for a moment, heart racing as the weight of her absence pressed upon him. How could he distract those warriors without exposing himself to their lethal fire?

Then an idea ignited in his mind—a risky, but possibly ingenious maneuver. Roman clenched his jaw, taking slow, deliberate steps out into the open, the eyes of every Mandalorian now sharply trained in his direction.

"Hey! I surrender!" he shouted, lifting his hands high in mock defeat, his voice steady despite the trepidation that threatened to bubble to the surface. The Mandalorians turned, confused.

But he didn't stop there. He extended his reach through the Force, feeling the remnants of one of their fallen brethren lie nearby. With precise focus, he nudged the corpse, making it twitch unnaturally, as if it were being compelled by some unseen force.

Gasps sounded from the Mandalorians, and he could see how their postures shifted in alarm. Their moment of surprise was just the crack in the dam Roman needed. "What was that?" he called out..

The distraction worked—if only for a moment. Some of the Mandalorians hesitated, their eyes darting back and forth between him and the twitching corpse. Some investigated, others moved toward Roman. It wasn't a long time, but hopefully it was enough.

 

[Ninurta Slaabur'r]

Tags: Down below
Beasts: x2 Webweaver Spiders Nos Voros
Rynka [Dead]
Skrel [confused/disorientated]: Suffocating/Wounded
Ninurta engaging: Diogo Talon
Equipment: Blaster Carbine, Sidearm, Vambraces, Electrostaff, Vibroknuckler, Beskar'gam [upper half removed], Boots
Music: Mastermind
​

The Mandalorian's armored fist found flesh, muscle, and bone, and after a sharp crack, sent the boy sputtering on the ground. The Padawan managed to lash his lightsaber out again, like a wounded predator, which could've hit the attacker's fist if he didn't retract it out of the way in time...

Pain blossomed in Diogo's battered body. His breathing was raggedly staggered, made worse by the noxious fumes. Concentrating, he surged whatever reserves of Force energy he had left to numb himself and flush the toxins. As he did so, he crawled backwards, away from the Mandalorian and his spewing mixture...

Fighting through a series of coughs, Diogo rose to his feet. He fumbled around on his NJO utility belt, quickly finding the rebreather that was contained in the standard survival kit portion, and attached it to his face. The blue blade of his lightsaber continued to hum as he shifted to an offensive stance.

"Bastard. I told you to leave," he hissed, voice thick with barely restrained anger, glaring at the shirtless Fallen. The Anzati boy's proboscis sprang to life, flailing in the air. "Now I'm going to kill you."

It wasn't a bluff, but Diogo was running on empty. One or two more attacks, and he had nothing left in the tank. So, better make it count. Diogo sprinted to the Mandalorian, lightsaber flashing. He pretended to slash diagonally across his body, but feinted and aimed for a horizontal slice across his adversary's legs instead, hoping to cleave his legs off while avoiding the lightsaber-resistant gauntlets.

The feeling of the blow was pure ecstasy. The Falleens cyan serpent eyes followed the Padawan as he crawled back in retreat and slowly followed. Shrugging his shoulders and rolling them back, his torso flexed displaying a vast network of vascularity that was akin to durasteel cords and fibers across his form. Both pectoral muscles lifted up and down in a controlled motion and the alien chuckled mockingly as he came to a slow and squinted his eyes preparing for his foe to recover and come to him in offense.

An animalistic display of dominance.

When Diogo Talon finally charged, Ninurta settled into a his fighting stance briefly before taking a half step forward to meet the lightsaber. Initially his left forearm and vambrace was positioned in front of his chest, as if it were a shield, but when the the strike fell below his guard, his left knee rose up to intercept the strike with the bone armor plating of his shin guard. Torquing his upper body with the momentum of the strike, naturally his left leg followed and pushed the lightsaber away from the beastmasters figure. A graceful fluid motion that seemed to occur as fast as the attack was dished out. A movement born of unorthodox adaptation and seeking to expose the Jedi's torso for what came next.

Following through, Ninurta shifted his center of balance and was primed to given yet another forceful pulse off the ground with the assistance of his right Grav-boot. With a sudden snap of his left leg he poised his boot to make contact at the Anzati's solar plexus in the form of a snap kick, while leaning back and twisting his upper body to the side, rocketing his right boot to connect under the jedi's chin in the form of another snap kick. A potential double strike.

If all went as planned then the Falleen would end up on landing on his back or in a crouch if his twist completed the motion.

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Valery Noble | Kahlil Noble | Gil Horn | Rakkon Yomaget​

Smoke and fire cleared through the application of their wretched magic. He had gotten close amidst it all, weapon braced in both hands as the Rally Master prepared to launch himself into the fray once more. Just a handful of steps away from Kahlil’s position, about to jettison forward with a raise of the poleaxe and a bend of the knees.

Only to hesitate - for the first time the entire fight, he had finally, at last, noticed what truly caused the fervent battle to break out. Not the other Jedi, but rather their condition.

It was said, once, that even Mandalore the Wrathful wondered;

‘How many children would my war claim?’

There was a long, tense silence that settled. The sounds of war still echoed in the background, but for just a moment, the air surrounding them had stilled.

“CEASE FIRE!” He called out then. The last frozen shots were sent towards the ground. The blaster fire had slowed. Then halted.

Just this once. Mercy.

Then explosions roared aloud somewhere to his side.

His gaze lingered on the pair, before it peeled off to turn his attention to the new scene. “Kill the other one.” Was a simple, brief statement. And so attention shifted, as desired. Kahlil and Valery were seemingly ignored by the undisputed authority of the Rally Master - though that was not to say stray blaster shots could not have found them as the new target was pursued.

Wrist aimed, and he fired a new rocket - which when close enough, would explode in a shockwave of shrill sonic energy to disrupt concentration. Amidst the crowd of other Crusaders, it would be difficult to adjust defense to account for them all. Flamethrowers, blaster fire, whatever else - their trick at the beginning had only worked due to their distraction, and now further manipulations would only be all the more difficult.

They had thrown themselves into a hornet’s nest. Not to mention any lingering rivals they may have still giving chase. Mandalorians being denied a kill would not have gone over well for Carduul - thankfully, the new figure had just provided an easy solution.

With a shift, the ruined shell of armor had propelled forwards through the jetpack - the poleaxe adjusting as grip went further down the shaft. Bursting from the crowd, the bladed edge was sent curving downwards towards Gil's left leg from a long range- aiming for either the saberstaff to contend it, or their body to dodge it. A single eye glared with cold determination from behind the cloven visor.

 

[Jack Wright]

(Tags: Eloise Dinn , OPEN. PVE focused.)

A rocketing explosion scraped the Knight back on both feet; Jack huffed whilst lowering his reverse-gripped lightsaber, the shiny blue illuminated growing beads of sweat, courtesy of this battle. For these thugs, just. Won't. Stop. Coming.

More incendiary grenades chucked in his direction, the Knight was forced to use both hands, halting the projectiles midair. The resulting cascade of fire that sung the air harmed no one, but it did leave the man wide open.

Getting a clip on his right shoulder for his troubles, thankfully the armour tanked the blow. Jack re-ignited his azure blade, batting and deflecting moreso, pushed by the wave of... What, twenty Mandos?

At least give me a challenge, Jack contemplated with a sweatdropped smile.

Beskar armour endured a deflected blast right through the chest, knocking the Mandalorian staggering for a few moments, Jack followed up with thrusting his left hand, sending debris of vendors into his wave of opponents. Panting softly by the continuous onslaught, wondering if their bloodshed for Jedi remained as virile as it'd been before the Dark Times.

Or they were just following that idiot Pre Vizsla's code of slaughtering everyone, pointlessly.

Either way, Jack could do the best he can, flipping into the air with the next usage of Niman, cutting down through one, Force-shoving another with a malfunctioning jetpack, and gutted another attempting to strike behind with a vibroknife. The explosion of the jetpack above tussling already-dishevelled brown locks. Pulling out his saber, the young man panted, relieved at seeing the final citizens reaching the transport ships.

When hazel eyes widened at three jetpack missiles launched for the transport ship still grounded, awaiting its people. The Knight breathed in some air, rushed straight after the projectiles, mind now single-focused in the matter of preserving life.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Hearing Roman issue his mock surrender had the little hairs at the back of her neck standing to attention. It was a ruse, of course, but it still made her feel odd.

Cora brushed that feeling aside as she crouched beside a tree, hiding among the thick greenery. Climbing would've given her a better vantage point, but that would've taken her further away from what she was after.

There was the glint of several T-visors catching the sunlight as they turned to Roman. That too, made her nervous. She didn't catch his subtle manipulation of the corpse as her eyes fell closed. Though there was tension in the air, no shots rang out.

Cora pressed both hands to the bark, then slid them down until they were pressed firmly against the ground. Trees like this had a tangled network of roots below, and she sought to trace their path.

Then, she encouraged them forward. It might not have been their natural growth pattern, but the Force leant its aid as she guided the roots to silently snake beneath the town square.

Roman's distraction had worked, as most of the Mandalorians had their attention on either him or the twitching body. One warrior, not fully convinced of his surrender, leveled his blaster at the young Jedi's head.

At that moment, the roots surged upward, breaking through the tiled ground and catching the brute and his allies in a snarl of wooden vines. They wrapped around torsos and limbs, snapped weapons and held others firmly within their grasp. It was sudden and unrelenting; a trap wrought from the earth beneath their feet.

The roots continued to twine and twist; though they did not seek to kill, their grasp was tight enough to break bone and restrict the breathing of those not clad in beskar.

Cora let out a shaky breath and leaned against the tree for a moment's rest. Her concentration had been poured into manipulating the roots so thoroughly that the pain in her abdomen began to flare anew.

After a few moments, she stood and paced her way closer to the square, where she could hear shouts of surprise and the staccato of blaster fire as some of the Mandalorians tried to free their brethren.

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Tags: Corazona von Ascania

​

Roman's hand clenched tighter on his lightsaber, the Mandalorian's blaster a cold, unwavering point against his chest. Most of the warriors were buying his charade – the feigned surrender, the carefully staged "zombie" – but this one… this one was different. His gaze, sharp and suspicious, never wavered. Roman almost lost his carefully cultivated composure, the urge to bisect the blaster with a swift lightsaber stroke almost overwhelming. He was a hair's breadth from reacting when the earth itself seemed to rise up against the Mandalorians.

Thick, woody roots erupted from the ground, ensnaring the warriors in a chaotic, organic net. It was brutal, efficient, and utterly unexpected. Cora. It had to be her. The Knight continued to surprise him, pushing the boundaries of what he thought she capable of.

He signaled to the townsfolk, a silent command amidst the chaos. The villagers, emboldened by the sudden turn of events, scrambled to collect the discarded blasters of the trapped Mandalorians. A hastily formed militia, armed and ready, confronted the still-struggling warriors. A few foolish shots rang out, desperate attempts to free their comrades, eliciting a flurry of return fire from the villagers, now fueled by righteous anger and adrenaline. The air filled with the sharp crack of blaster fire and the grunts of struggling men.

Roman moved through the fray, his lightsaber a reassuring presence, guiding the villagers, ensuring they didn't escalate the situation unnecessarily. His gaze scanned the scene, assessing the situation, ensuring no one was seriously injured. "Take them into custody," he commanded, his voice cutting through the cacophony with quiet authority. "Secure their weapons. Bind them, but do not harm them further." He directed the villagers, establishing a semblance of order amidst the chaos.

His gaze darted around, searching for Cora. Roman needed to make sure she was alright. He spotted her then, stumbling towards the square, her face pale, a sheen of sweat on her brow. He saw how she struggled walking in. Abandoning his efforts to consolidate the situation, he broke free from the struggle, the villagers capable enough to handle the remainder. He raced towards her, his heart pounding a battle rhythm in his chest.

"Cora!" he called out, his voice hoarse with relief and concern. He reached her side in a few strides, his eyes scanning her for injuries. He took her by the arm, his touch gentle but firm, his gaze intense but full of worry. "Are you alright? Are you hurt? That was… amazing!" he blurted out, a mixture of relief and sheer astonishment coloring his words.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora wondered if she should've remained in the grove, resting against the tree to gather her strength for a little while longer.

Roman's leadership abilities shone through as he guided the villagers to take control of the turned tides. As she hobbled her way back to the square, she caught glimpses of the villagers between the tangled wooden thicket as they rounded up those still standing. The remaining Mandalorians were stripped of their visible weapons and herded into the wine cellar.

"Remove their armor," she rasped. A few beats passed as she fought to regain her breath. Raising her voice had taken more effort than anticipated. "But leave their helmets."

She was no expert on Mandalorian beskar'gam, but had seen enough to know that many of them had weaponry built within their iron skin. Leaving their helms untouched was made out of a small sign of respect - not for these raiders, but for Jenn Kryze . There was no reason for them to intentionally inflict shame on the defeated that way.

"I'm alright," she croaked, shifting some of her weight to Roman's arm. The wrinkles of her brow began to ease now that she wasn't straining as much. "I was grazed back there. Nothing fatal."

Her hand cupped just above the singed hole on her tunic, certain that the skin beneath was red and angry.

"Plant surge," she forced a weak smile, stopping to lean against the wall of an intact home. "Comes in handy for more than just growing flowers."

Her gaze passed over the snarl of roots.

"Is anyone injured severely? Do we need to call for a medevac?"

Roman Vossari

 

[Roman Vossari]

Tags: Corazona von Ascania

​

Roman's voice boomed across the square, cutting through the lingering tension. "You heard her! Leave the helmets, take the rest!" He punctuated her command with a sharp nod to the armed villagers, ensuring his message was clear and unwavering. Then, his focus shifted back to Cora, a deep furrow etched between his brows. He gently guided her to a sturdy stone wall near the edge of the square, carefully helping her to sit down and lean against it.

"Plant surge, huh?" he echoed, a hint of wonder in his voice. He'd always thought of it as a gentle magic, a gift for nurturing life. Anneliese used it to help his mother's garden. Even the gentler male padawans used it to summon flowers. He'd never associated it with anything so…powerful. "I thought that was just for gardening."

"Stay here." he said, his voice firm but laced with concern. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and raced back into the heart of the village, his strides long and purposeful. He moved with a speed that belied his worry and barked orders to the healers, his tone urgent. He returned a few moments later, a trio of elderly women hurrying in his wake, their faces etched with concern.

"Everyone is fine," he reported, his gaze fixed on Cora. "Just minor injuries. Let these women help you though." He gestured towards the healers, his expression softening slightly, only the sharp lines of worry around his eyes betraying the tension he still felt.

The sounds of the village were a chaotic mix of securing prisoners and murmurs of relief, but in the distance, the lingering echoes of the Mandalorian raid on all around Keshi still reverberated - a constant reminder of the battle they had just survived.

 

[Vynara Rylthar]

​

5th Fleet
Mando LZ. Engaging
Keshi Atmosphere

OOC: GA feel free to make use of the two flights of T-65 X-Wings.

"Fire and adjust!"

Captain Cortans words boomed heavy over the thunderous din of battle on the bridge. Still filled with smoke, it was a scene of tight lips, hunched shoulders and sweaty brows. Vynara took it all in sweeping her brown eyes left to right. The Resolute Dawn Fired again, releasing a fresh wave of missiles, this time concussion warheads, to devastate the enemy infrastructure on the LZ.

A priority distress call rang in her ear. At the same time she watched as surface to air projectiles tore the rest of their shielding away, penetrating the lowest dorsal deck. The Resolute Dawn rocked, and then began to list ever so slight.

"Captain, I'm receiving a priority one, standby......"

Her eyebrows raised half an inch and then an inch.

"One of our sister fleets vessels, Silent Dagger has been hit. They are burning in hard....."

She paused, re-listening to the call.

"Right there, see em?"

Cortan locked his eyes on the view screen to see an old refitted frigate the size of an Acclamator I, plunging down past them into the ground. It was wreathed in a crown of fiery tendrils, blue, red and white. As it struck below them with the force of a small asteroid the over-pressure from the blast buffeted their bow, pushing them out of formation, unleashing a shock wave of dust a mile high.

They were operating purely on sensor data now, shooting in the dark.

"Lessen fire, quarter cycle."

It was a good call on her Captains behalf. If they couldn't make positive identification, they needed to slow fire, but not enough to remove the suppression effect on the surafce to Air heavy weapons.

Taking us to ground may have been a mistake....​

She weighed her options fast. They could stay on station and absorb the missile fire from below. They could save some lives.

The other option was to break off and save the Dawn from the damage, then rescue them from afar. Time was certainly a factor. She glanced at the burning wreckage, then her chrono on her wrist, and then to the damage readout. Within the space of two minutes the young Commander had calcuated the factors, and made her decision.

She turned her head to adress her XO, Captain Cortan.

"Pull us up to 2000 AGL Captain. I need Vigilant Star to cover us from below with her shields. Stalwart Spear is to land and deploy her garrison of Soldiers immediately. We need to secure that crash site ASAP."

"Aye aye."

Cortan relayed the orders. The smaller Frigates moved into position, and began to execute their missions. Vigilant Star moved to cover the Resolute Dawn's belly as the ramps on the Stalwart Spear dropped, troops handing onto cargo straps in anticipation of their landing gear making solid contact with the ground....

 

[Gil Horn]

Location: Keshi | Unknown at this point
Tags: Valery Noble Kahlil Noble Carduul Akahl

The heat of battle raged on, the chaos a palpable storm that Gil thrived in. His saberstaff whirled in a defensive arc, emerald blades casting sharp shadows across the smoky battlefield. Valery's words of gratitude reached him through the cacophony, anchoring his focus.

"Hold that thought, Valery," he called back, his voice calm but edged with determination. "I'll take the thanks after we're all breathing easier."

As the Mandalorian Rally Master barked his command to cease fire, Gil's sharp instincts caught the tension in the air. The pause felt unnatural, like the eye of a hurricane, and he braced himself. His opponent's shout, "Kill the other one," sent a ripple of urgency through him.

"Typical," Gil muttered under his breath as he adjusted his stance. His connection to the Force flared, every sense heightened as the Mandalorians turned their attention toward him.

The incoming rocket screamed through the air, its sonic pulse threatening to throw him off balance. Drawing on his training, Gil leapt into the air with a burst of Force energy, twisting mid-flight to avoid the explosion. The shockwave rippled below him, but he landed gracefully, spinning his saberstaff into a ready stance.

The Rally Master surged forward, poleaxe gleaming in the hellish glow of the battlefield. The downward strike aimed at his left leg was fast, precise, and brutal, but Gil was faster. With a sharp spin, he brought one blade of his saberstaff down to intercept, the plasma clashing violently against the Mandalorian's weapon. Sparks flew, and the air between them crackled with raw energy.

"Not today," Gil growled, pushing back against the weight of the attack. His mechanical hand gripped the saberstaff's hilt with unyielding precision, the servos humming as it absorbed the shock.

"Your fight's with me now, I hope you won't be too disappointed," Gil said, his voice steady, his green eyes locked onto the Mandalorian's visor. The ferocity of battle reflected in his stance, but underneath it, the calm focus instilled by Master Ohognh guided his every move.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kahlil and Valery moving, retreating to safety. Good, he thought. Keep them safe. I've got this. He squared his shoulders, ready to face whatever came next.

Turning back to the Mandalorian, he began to wade into a series of twirling and constantly moving strikes, intent to probe his new opponents defenses and see if he might be able to find an opening. So far today, though, he had not been having the best of luck with Mandalorian warriors. They were certainly some tough opponents.