Junction [GA/NEO] When the Stars Betray Us | GA and NEO Junction of Manaan and Kashyyyk

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Objective II
To the East Square​

Acknowledging Grandmaster Noble's words with a nod, Minerva was about to head out when her ally deflected incoming plasma bolts. Acting on instinct she lifted her rifle toward the direction of the shooter. Upon seeing him the daughter of Jorel was about to squeeze the trigger when Valery stopped her, insisting that she'll handle this fight.

Reminded that there are people who need help restrained from her attacking Valery's challenger right then and there. Time was of the essence. Saying nothing Minerva sped away via jetpack to the east, leaving the two combatants to their duel. Soaring fourth she searched for the city square until spotting the location. An explosion ignited on the northside of it as Cathar bodies and pieces scattered in brief flight.

It was a Basilisk!

The war machine roared before firing its laser cannons on a pair of locals shooting at it from a window. Riding on top of the Basilisk was a crusader who was hollering in triumph and searched out for new victims. Likely her first battle from the way she was acting.

It's too heavily armored for my missiles. Need to bring in Tyatr again.

At the conclusion she transmitted the target data and the ship AI clicked twice in reply via comms.

Seeing the rider and its metallic beast had spotted another group of survivors at a ruined shop Minerva without hesitation opened fire on the Basilisk's backside. Roaring once more it shifted around and the rider was shocked to see a Mandalorian shooting at them.

Angered, the crusader shouted. "Dar'manda!"

Rolling her eyes inside the helmet Minerva kept shooting, as the Basilik returned fire. The Mandalorian exile dashed out of the way of the barrage that cratered another building.

The Basilisk lifted off the ground in pursuit of its new target, with the rider urging the former on.

"Come on Victus, tear this traitor apart!"

Just as those words were shouted, the Basilik was hit by twin discord missiles creating a new explosive eruption and rendered the machine into a crashing, burning wreck. Minerva's gunship flew by, making a hard left bank before ascending to the clouds.

The warrior descended to the shocked Cathar, exclaiming to the ruins nearby.

"Come on, let's search for survivors and get out of here! I'll cover you."

The defenders looked to one another uncertain about their unexpected ally. She didn't blame them but they had no time for issues right now. They knew it too and ran for the rubbles to get people out. Minerva took up the rear, guarding them in case more Neo Crusaders show up.

 

[Anchat Anura]

Mandalorians were streaking through the sky with jetpacks, Basilisk droids, and in fighters and Dropships. The attack on Cathar was a gasp of power, suddenly lost by the events that had thrown the Galaxy into so much chaos. The Cathar were a complex people who lived simply, and they had proven themselves to be heroes of the Galaxy when the time came.

And Anchat Anura and his Droid squad were here to return the favor.

As another Basilisk Droid flew in to hunt the Cathar, a GADF Dropship came to a hover over the East Square. Reinforcements were here. Instead of normal Troopers, however, a variety of Droids dropped down. One was a massive behemoth, armed to the teeth with Heavy Weapons: An AT-XV in its anti-Vehicle, anti-Air Aurek Pattern. Flanking it in the air was a pair of GARD Raven II Droids, designed and built on Cathar itself, using their large companion as cover as they flew about, keeping an eye out for enemies that got too close.

The more unusual Droids, though, came down next. A Jedi Securitron was next, holding a Heavy Blaster pistol in one hand, and a Repulsor shield in the other, scanning the area for hostiles, and quickly finding cover. A new, unfamiliar Battle Droid with a large Repeater Blaster in its hands was the last out of the Dropship, with a companion Droid pulsing with electromagnetic power floating just behind it. On its back was a large box with a set of thrusters on the bottom. From the head of the Droid was a Hologram projector, showing the face of a Slug-like Zilkin.

The AT-XV fired at the Basilisk with its Magna-Caster - not quite enough to destroy it, but certainly enough to dissuade the Basilisk from sticking around too long. A squad of Mandalorian troopers had to abandon their position as the unidentified Battle Droid laid down heavy fire on their position.

The last of the Droids was the oddest of all: A Protocol Droid, unarmed, landed in the middle of them, giving quite a fuss.

"Captain Anura, I do not see why my presence is necessary!" the Protocol Droid objected.

"This is an evacuation, and Droid Squad is in the middle of a fight. We need YOU to get people assembled so we can EVACUATE!" the hologram of the Zilkin shouted.

"I'm a Protocol Droid-"

"Which means your job is to facilitate. So go off, and facilitate the evacuation!" Captain Anura ordered it.

"Captain, I have identified abnormal behavior from a Mandalorian. Confirm identification," the Securitron announced, pointing to Minerva Fhirdiad with its blaster.

"Yes, I know who that is. Designate as friendly, Droid Squad - That Mando is one of ours," Anchat declared, "My name is Captain Anchat Anura. This is Droid Squad. We're here to secure this square. You've got the lay of the land - you point, we'll shoot."

 

[Vreegan Fett]

Alicio Organa Dracken Pryce Zarion Threx

The voice of the former Vice-Chancellor, Dracken Pryce , a distinguished war hero, commanded some respect. He was the only individual in the room worthy of acknowledgment from the Field Marshal, as who better to engage with warriors than one who had firsthand experience of battle?

Pryce understood that true conflict occurs on the ground, not in the opulence of high offices, luxury yachts, or distant star systems, but in the gritty reality of a planet, where every strategic objective is fiercely contested. He represented the old guard of the Alliance, in stark contrast to the current government, which he viewed as bloated and ineffectual.

Therefore, Vreegan would respond in a straightforward and unembellished manner.

"It proceeds as planned." he stated, as the tactical map transitioned from the battlefield of Taris to the slaughter of the Cathar, whose aspirations for independence would be ruthlessly suppressed by the Mandalorian Crusade.

He chose to keep the massacre displayed for the Alliance to witness, just as Chancellor Alicio Organa entered the room in a manner typical of politicians, hoping that a few gentle words and possibly some threats would be sufficient to coerce him into compliance and to agree to lenient terms that might alleviate the suffering of the occupied populace.

"Let us proceed then, Chancellor Organa," Vreegan remarked as the Mandalorian Delegation took their seats across the table. He chose to disregard the Alliance envoy, Zarion Threx , considering them unworthy of his attention due to them being a diplomat not a warrior.

 

[Strix]

Bellum Contra Omnes​

S T R I X​

| Location | Low Orbit, Cathar​

| Objective | Send a message​

​

With the Galaxy having shifted, numerous planets had found themselves scattered in unfamiliar regions. Adversely this applied to planets that once belonged to the Galactic Alliance such as Taris now within the borders of the Mandalorian Crusaders, and the Alliance had deemed it prudent to cross into its territories, perhaps not expecting any consequences. This was unacceptable, and the Alliance had to be made aware the consequences for such actions.​

​

The shifting of the Galaxy had thrown several planets outside of the borders of the Mandalorian Crusaders, Cathar being one of them - but not out of the reach of its wrath. Strix's optic scanned the viewport as it stood on the bridge of one of the many warships now in low orbit over Cathar. Blackened smoke filled the sky as the vessel Strix was aboard hovered over one of the larger concentrations of Cathar's native populace, swarms of fighters and bombers flooding the sky like angry hornets, all vessels present given orders to shoot down any neutral or hostile vessel attempting to evacuate the planet.​

​

The droid commander warbled to itself as it monitored the Mandalorian battle network, sifting through reports and data as it began to compile a firing solution to avoid hitting the Mandalorians and maximizing the carnage inflicted on the people of Cathar. The Alliance was busy trying to evacuate who they could en masse, but such salvation in reality was fleeting and a mere illusion. They were merely herding the sheep and guiding them to their doom. When the Mandalorians had stolen Strix, they had also liberated it of any restrictive programming - there would be no mercy nor restraint. ​

​

When the time came, retribution would come swiftly and without remorse. ​

​

Judgement day was upon them.​

​

 

[Saverok]

Objective II
Tags: Aadihr Lidos Azurine Varek
Equipment: in Sig​

The wind howled through the shattered bones of the village — buildings cracked open like eggshells, smoke trailing from rooftops where homes once stood proud. Fires danced in the distance, casting long shadows across the broken streets. A group of Cathar children stumbled through the rubble, wide-eyed and breathless, their small feet kicking up ash and dust.

"Monsters! Monsters! Run!!" one of them screamed, his voice breaking with fear as they rushed past a broken fountain and the pair of Jedi hidden behind its remains.

Then came the sound — not of boots, but of something heavier. Relentless. Unnatural.

The children vanished down an alley as a hulking figure stepped through the haze, smoke curling around his Beskar-plated frame. One swipe of his boot sent a speeder tumbling out of his path like a toy. Saverok stood tall among the ruins, his red skin faintly glowing beneath the cracks of his damaged armor, thick Gen'dai musculature writhing and healing beneath the surface.

Behind him, young Cathar Neo-Crusaders followed — some hesitant, others hungry for purpose, their gazes bouncing between the destruction and the warlord who led them.

Saverok turned, voice booming low and hard like distant thunder.

"Look at what they brought you." He gestured to the ruins around them. "The Jedi came with words and ration packs, promising peace and aid. The Galactic Alliance came with tents and blankets, like that could fix the chains they helped fasten around your necks." He let out a short, humorless laugh. "They didn't come to save you. They came to bury you in soft lies. They wanted to keep you weak. Tame. Quiet."

He pointed to a banner trampled in the dirt — the Alliance crest stained with soot and ash. "This is the price of begging cowards for protection."

Saverok took a step forward, the weight of his body causing the cracked duracrete beneath him to groan. "But this is not the end of Cathar. This is the beginning. Tell them to join you, and you will all reinforce your homeworld in time." He turned his helmet slowly, scanning each recruit. "Spread the word. Let every den, every hole, every last soul know .. we are taking Cathar back and giving it to the strong. And only the strong!"

​

"You just can't help but be a hero, can't you?"

Two heavy footsteps and the Gen'dai was well within earshot to hear. Not to mention the new sensation of his physiology picking up on two new lifeforms. Resting his rifle on his shoulder with one hand and heaving a large piece of debris out from his way. Saverok's helmeted visage tilted down toward one of the two new individuals in his path. The backside of a white robed and white haired man and beside him the figure of a iridonian female?

What came next was the only greeting the Gen'dai knew to be appropriate. " Ah what do we have here?! You KARKING WURMS!!" He shouted aloud and growled, but made no such movement to thwart the two jedi.

 

[Brent Warnel]

Brent stormed forward, hatred pouring from every fiber of his being for this jetii. Blaster bolts continued to erupt from his rifle toward this figure, but to his eyes, it appeared she blocked every single one. Her blade whirled through the air, dancing a violet song that Brent's tune could not match.

Brent felt the fire rise in him, the berserk rage, knowing that in front of him was a being who wanted to wipe out his Culture, wipe out his lineage. Wipe out everything he had worked for because they were afraid of it. His fury roared within him as he continued forward, but it blinded him.

He saw too late her stance shift: a foot forward, a hand snapping out in purposeful movement. The environment erupted around him, stone cracked, dirt erupted, and debris from the battlefield exploded in all directions as a wave of force energy hurled toward him. Brent's jetpack roared, launching him to the side in a quick burst of fire.

His movements came too late, and the wave of energy still hit him as he tried to rocket out of the way. It impacted him and sent him spinning at a perpendicular angle away from the jetii. Brent came tumbling back down and impacted the side of a building, cracking the outer wall as he hit it, rifle flying from his grip as he was dumped unceremoniously onto the ground.

Pain. Pain lanced through him. Ribs had snapped, and potentially other injuries he could not worry about yet. But something also pulsed through him: determination.

"Stems," he said as he rolled away from the building and came to a knee, medication flooding his system. He faced the last known location of the Jedi, whipping his pistols out of their holsters and roaring fully automatic blaster fire back toward her location. He would not go down so easy.

Valery Noble​

 

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Objective II
Defend the East Square​

Tag: Anchat Anura

Just as a new Basilisk with infantry was about to intercept them when reinforcements arrived. Most unusual type of reinforcements but Minerva didn't complain. Especially when the enemy machine was forced to retreat along its supporting troopers. Minerva took a knee aiming down the sights to shoot in short controlled bursts toward the latter. Targeting the jetpacks to be precise.

The third particle round struck a Twi'lek Crusader's pack, causing him to spiral out of control, flailing his arms before slamming into a wall, most of his bones and including and fatally his neck. Soon she shot down another crusader, a Bothan whose pack burst into flames consuming her. The zealot screeched in agony until silenced when hitting the ground. There was time years ago Minerva would've regretted killing fellow Mandalorians.

But not with this filth.

They chose to be mass murderers and slavers and she refused to have kinship with them. In her eyes they're just as monstrous as Sith and as she was concerned those two got off easy with quick deaths however brutal it was. Her next burst missed the human crusader but made him bump into his comrade and in turn they were shredded by the droid with the repeater.

Then noting the other more giant droid's aim toward her Minerva was cautious and ready to fly in case it got trigger happy. Fortunately the mech with the Zilkin face on a projector intervened. Inwardly relieved, Minerva paid attention to the captain's introduction and that of his Droid squad. Quickly she answered.

"Thanks Cap. Make sure your Giant over there keeps its optics out for more Basilisks and gunships. We're going need that firepower."

Meanwhile the Cathar militia members in front were digging through the rubble for kin. Minerva would've run over to help but every gun hand counted right now. The best thing she could do right now is help secure the perimeter with D-Squad. Soon enough her sensors picked more hostiles, coming from the southwest.

Soon the allies would detect in the distance two enemy gunships leading the way with more than dozen crusaders flying in protective formation. Without hesitating Minerva exclaimed while switching to her dual pistols.

"Pick your targets boys, I'll play as bait!"

Roaring in defiance, Minerva rocketed upwards toward the flying enemy column. She made sure to call Tyatr, her own gunship, for assistance once more.

The two enemy craft opened up with laser shots toward her and Minerva swerved and rolled out of the way. Many of the accompanying crusaders broke ranks to pursue the Mandalorian who dared to defy their holy mission while the rest made a dive for the square only to face D-Squad. Just before one Crusader gunship could fire targets on the ground when it was hit in the engines by a salvo of Tyatr's guns. The second hostile ship dived away but in the process making a possible target for one of Anura's squad members.

Simultaneously Minerva engaged in a hit and fly chase with the several crusaders after her. Blaster bolts were exchanged while jet engines whined.

 

[Jonyna Si]

​

TAG: Trajan Fett

Catching the jedi off guard wasn't in the cards today. She moved like lightning, but she thought at hyperspeed. After impaling a Crusader, she pulled the black blade from his chest, then turned to her next target a hundred meters away from her.

She could sense it. Ysalimari. Cheap tricks by cowards looking to level the playing field.

Her voice echoed from every direction at once, carried by the wind and rain.

"You rely on gear. On creatures not of this world, on parlor tricks and technology. It won't help you against Mother Nature, Crusader."

Her words were punctuated as a crack of lightning came down to strike the cradle upon the Crusader's back. Then again. And again.

Jonyna had learned from fighting the Imperials, reliance on those cradles only weighed you down. She commanded the skies. The storm. A lizard wouldn't help against that.

 

[Koda Fett]

T A R I S

Tags: Vera Noble Rann Thress​

Thoom.

Their lightsaber rolled from their meaty palm, finding itself kicked up and snatched. A once-over determined its worth.

The weapon of a Jedi always fetched a hefty price.

The other one's, however... no one needed a purveyor to determine it was worthless, shot to pieces with a destroyed hilt, fragmented emitter, and a crystal missing. A more desperate man may well have gone digging for kyber.

Koda was decidedly not desperate.

The battle lines were drawn. The Mandalorians claimed their sectors and the Jedi were stuck with theirs, with the civilians largely trapped in Mandalorian territory. They would come, Koda knew, they always did.

The sounds of anarchy were ever-present and yet distant all the same, with blaster fire and missile fire giving the air the taste of spent tibanna and ash. Flashes of explosions lit up the sky as much as the streaking bolts and turbolasers, interrupted only by the coming and going of transports and starfighters. It all reflected in the still T-visor of Koda Fett.

He roamed one of many main roads into the heart of the city, pacing, and waiting.

​

 

[Korra Kast]

The punch landed like a hammer, slamming into Korra's chestplate with enough force to knock the wind from her lungs—and the sonic discharge? That sent her reeling.

A burst of static shrieked in her helmet as the shockwave overloaded her auditory sensors, rattling her teeth and making her ears ring with a sharp whine. She flew back a few meters, scraping across the pavement in a spray of sparks. Her HUD flickered. Breathing labored.

She coughed, hard, pulling herself upright. The chest plate held, but she felt the thud of it in her ribs.

"Alright. That's new," she muttered, her voice raspy.

But then she saw him. Helmet half-off, yanking at it with frantic fingers. Not a power move. Not a taunt. Distress. Korra's stance lowered, coiled like a striking vexis.

When he removed his helmet, in the heartbeat that followed, instinct surged. Korra lunged, hand balled up in a fist, going for a strike to his unprotected head.

Nos Voros

 

[Connel Vanagor]

Sabotaging the Saboteurs
CATHAR
OBJ 2

Objective II — Trouble on Cathar
(PvP/PvE)​

Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Seraphim
[Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]

The crimson sun bled across the Cathar horizon, painting the burning wreckage of a once-proud city in shades of hellfire. Cathar, a world yearning for freedom, now choked on the ash of Neo-Crusader vengeance. Mandalorian dropships, like metallic locusts, swarmed the skies, disgorging armored warriors who unleashed a storm of blaster fire on the fleeing populace. Hope, so recently ignited, flickered and threatened to die.


Amidst the chaos, a flicker of blue, a flash of violet– the lightsabers of Jedi Shadow Connel Vanagor – cut through the darkness. He moved like a wraith, deflecting blaster bolts with effortless grace, his face grim underneath the mask, one of intimidation and fear. The atrocities he’d witnessed on Kashyyyk at the hands of these very Neo-Crusaders fueled his every action, lending a deadly edge to his Jedi skills. He was here to protect these people, a bastion against the encroaching darkness.


At his side, a tight-knit unit moved with practiced precision: Omega Squad. Led by “Michael”, the calm and calculating pathfinding weapons expert, they were a force multiplier, transforming Connel's individual brilliance into a wave of coordinated destruction. Clear! Michael barked into his comm, his voice steady above the din of battle. Landing zone neutralized. Azrael, you’re clear to plant the detonators.


Connel acknowledged with a nod, seamlessly transitioning from deflecting blaster fire to covering “Azrael” who was priming thermal detonators. He trusted Omega Squad implicitly and they trusted him. They didn’t see him as "just another Jedi," a detached overseer. He was just another member, fighting alongside them, sharing the same risks, the same grim determination. They were brothers in many respects.


“Gabriel”, the team tech specialist and second in command, was already hacking into the landing zone’s command network, scrambling communications and feeding false landing coordinates to incoming dropships. Almost there… just need to re-route their birds to that lovely patch of quicksand… ah, there we go! Enjoy your mud bath, bucketheads! he chirped, a hint of dark humor lacing his voice.


Quicksand? Really, “Gabriel”? How cliché are you? Azrael, the demolitions expert, scoffed, expertly wiring explosives to a fuel depot after priming the detonators. His knowledge of explosives was encyclopedic, his demeanor… less so. I had a much more explosive surprise in mind, something with a bit more… oomph.


Just make sure your ‘oomph’ doesn’t ‘oomph’ us, please. “Raphael”, the heavy weapons specialist, rumbled, his voice a soothing contrast to the explosive energy of his comrades. He was a walking armory, carrying enough firepower to level a small building, yet his movements were deliberate, his focus unwavering. He stood as a bastion of calm in the storm.


Relax, Raph’, I know what I’m doing, Azrael retorted, his fingers dancing over the detonator, before faux-fumbling it jokingly. Besides, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you guys… even you, Gabriel, after all who's going to find the best buffets?.


That’s strangely touching, coming from a pyro, Gabriel quipped back.


I would never do that to kids!


”pyro” you idiot!


The banter, seemingly frivolous, was the glue that held Omega Squad together. It was a way to diffuse the tension, to remind themselves that they were more than just soldiers, more than just weapons.


From a concealed rooftop overlooking the chaos, “Sariel”, the team sniper, scanned the battlefield through his scope. His gaze was cold, calculating, and utterly merciless. He was a ghost in the machine, a silent reaper who dealt death with surgical precision. Incoming Crusader patrol, bearing 270, he reported, his voice devoid of emotion. Two heavy troopers, four standard infantry. Engaging.


Before anyone could respond, two crimson-clad figures crumpled to the ground, neat holes appearing in the hex between their helmets and their chests, yes, the necks. “Sariel” didn't waste a breath. He was already tracking his next targets. “Jeremiel”, the team’s secondary sniper and corpsman, watched “Sariel” with a mixture of admiration and unease. He was a skilled healer, driven by compassion, but the brutality he witnessed here fueled a simmering anger. He was ready to use his skills to defend the innocent, whether with a blaster or a bacta patch.


With the landing zone compromised and the fuel depot primed for destruction, Connel and Omega Squad moved deeper into the city, their mission shifting from sabotage to rescue. The cries of the wounded echoed through the ruined streets, a constant reminder of the stakes.


They reached a plaza where a group of Cathar civilians had barricaded themselves inside a shattered government building, desperately trying to fend off a Neo-Crusader assault. The Mandalorians, driven by their bloodlust, hammered at the barricades with relentless ferocity.


Omega Squad, move to engage! “Michael” ordered, his hand instinctively reaching for his blaster pistol.


The team sprang into action, a whirlwind of coordinated violence. “Raphael” unleashed a torrent of plasma fire from his heavy repeater, shredding the Neo-Crusader ranks. “Azrael” lobbed concussion grenades, momentarily disorienting the attackers, while “Gabriel” scrambled the Mandalorians' helmet comms, turning their tactical advantages against them. “Sariel”, perched atop a neighboring building, provided lethal support, eliminating key targets with cold precision.


Connel, lightsabers blazing, leaped over the barricades, meeting the Mandalorians head-on. He moved with the speed and grace of a seasoned warrior, deflecting blaster bolts and cutting down his foes with elegant strikes. He was a force of nature, a whirlwind of righteous fury. A Jedi Shadow, trained in Special Forces tactics, a deadly combination.


As the battle raged, a hulking figure emerged from the shadows, a large Mandalorian could be confused with a Basilisk War Droid by the size of him. The Elder loomed over the battlefield, easily a match for any warrior. The juggernaut bellowed a Mandalorian war cry, his eyes burning with savage cruelty. His target: a group of young Cathar children huddled together in fear.


Seeing the danger, Connel abandoned his current opponent and charged towards the Mando, his lightsabers a beacon of hope in the encroaching darkness. The two warriors clashed, their weapons meeting in a shower of sparks. Connel was not his father, he could not match the strength of this monster, but his agility and Force-enhanced reflexes, initially gained the upper hand driving the warrior back.


However, the Elder was a formidable opponent, his brute strength and unwavering tenacity compensating for his lack of finesse. He unleashed a furious barrage of blows, forcing Connel to fight defensively.


Seeing Connel struggle, Omega Squad shifted their focus, unleashing a coordinated assault on the Elder. “Michael” unleashed a barrage of blaster bolts, while “Raphael” rained down plasma fire from his heavy repeater. “Azrael” lobbed a strategically placed concussion grenade, momentarily disorienting the juggernaut. “Sariel’, from his perch, aimed for a weak spot in the Elder's armor.


Seizing the opportunity, Connel channeled the Force, focusing his energy into a powerful surge. With a mighty roar, he unleashed a Force Push, sending the Elder crashing into a nearby wall. Stunned but not defeated, the Mandalorian struggled to rise. his rifle, cutting through the enemy ranks. “Gabriel” flanked from the right, his blade slicing with deadly precision. “Jeremiel” stood firm, his shield absorbing incoming fire. Together, they fought as one, a perfect blend of skill and strategy. The battle raged on, but Omega Squad pressed forward, undeterred.


Connel advanced, his lightsaber held high, as he jammed the blade of his lightsaber into the ground momentarily. This ends now, he growled. Your reign of terror ends here. Connel unleashed a final strike, his lightsaber cleaving through the weakpoints of the warrior’s armor as his free hand balled up into a fist. The Force flowing through him crumpled, and crushed the armor.


With the Elder defeated, the remaining Neo-Crusaders in the immediate area were scattered, their morale broken. The Cathar civilians erupted in cheers, their faces alight with renewed hope. Connel deactivated his lightsaber, his chest heaving. The fight was nowhere near over, this was just one section of a large board. Connel took his weapons, slung them and climbed a nearby tree to get some sense of a view of the landscape as the team continued to move throughout the streets and pathways.


[Connel!] came a whispered voice through the comm-feed, crackling with urgency. It was “Michael”, the young but experienced leader of Omega Squad. [Status report?]


[Position clear,] Connel replied, his voice steady despite the chaos below. [Mandalorian patrols are moving through the northern quadrant. We need to proceed with caution or we’ll be caught under their gaze.]


[Copy that. We’ll sweep in from the east, hit their supply trucks, and cut off reinforcements,] “Michael” commanded, his focus sharp as a vibroblade. [You’re with us in spirit, but keep your eyes peeled. You know how they can be.]


As the squad bounded into action, Connel followed closely, feigning the stillness of a shadow. “Gabriel”, the tech specialist, hacked into the Mandalorian communications, listening for any tactical insights. Let’s see what the uncouth beasts are planning, he joked, only half-serious, despite the tension that crackled in the air.

Valery Noble • TAGS • ARE • WIDE • OPEN • !!​

 

[Vera Noble]

Taris

​

Tag: Rann Thress Koda Fett
Tag not nearby: Jackson Lesan

​

Vera looked up from adjusting the wrist clasps on her gloves, her multi-colored eyes narrowing just slightly as Rann paced and rattled off his speech like a man already preparing his last will and testament. She didn't interrupt — no, she waited, perfectly silent, perfectly still. Until that last, almost pleading, "Please say we're agreed."

That was when she blinked once… and smirked. Her head tilted with the theatrical innocence of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. "…Are you this nervous because you're worried something might happen?" she asked sweetly. "Or are you just scared of my Mom and Dad?" She let that hang in the air a beat too long, then slowly widened her eyes with mock realization.

She grinned, full brat mode activated. "It's okay, I get it. I'd be scared too. You should've seen the time my Dad went after people who scared me when I was little." She adjusted the strap on her backpack, the grin fading just slightly into something more genuine.

"…But alright. I promise." Her voice was softer now. "I'm not going to do anything reckless. You say stick close? I stick close. I know what this mission is."

A pause. Then she added, "I don't want anyone else getting hurt just because I wanted to play hero." She offered him a firm nod, then turned as the hangar doors began to rumble open.

The dropship awaited.

—

Taris.

The transport jolted hard as it breached the atmosphere, turbulence kicking in with violent lurches as fire licked across the viewport. The world below was fire and steel — towers silhouetted by explosions, blasterfire streaking across the skyline. The voice of the pilot crackled through the comms.

Vera braced herself, her hand gripping the crash strap tight. And then it hit her — A flash. Not of fire — but of presence. A Mandalorian. His armor was scarred, battered with age but clean with purpose. He didn't speak in the vision, but she felt it: a quiet storm. Calculating. Watching. A predator on the move.

She blinked hard, breathing in sharply as the vision slipped away. Her head turned toward Rann, her expression now serious.

"…There's a Mandalorian warrior coming this way," she said, her voice quiet but certain. "Not just some raider. Someone… dangerous. I think he's close."

Her eyes met his.

"I saw him."

​

 

[Caelan Valoren]

"Fate," Caelan said as he watched the form of the Neo Crusader moving through wreckage. "Catch up to Azzie and Aadihr and assist them in locating survivors."

"Dweep-bwoo bwee-dwoop beep-beep?"

"Just go on."

The droid looked at him, at the Neo-Crusader approaching, and then back at him. Caelan wasn't watching his droid companion anymore, though. His eyes were fully fixed on the Mandalorian that was approaching his friends. Fate, taking this as a sign not to speak anymore, beeped in exasperation, and then trudged off towards the two Jedi that were busy rescuing the young Cathar children that were trapped within the wreckage. Fate could help them locate more with his scanners, and also get them other assistance if they needed it.

Monstrous was a good way to describe the creature that easily lifted large pieces of debris and tossed it aside. It stood easily taller than him, at least a foot of difference between them. The heft of the armor didn't help, either. Not moving his eyes, Caelan reached down to his saber and made a few small adjustments to it that would come into play when he activated it, but for the moment, he left it attached to his hip.

The brute approached and called out to Aadihr and Azzie, but Caelan leapt from his position a short distance away, and landed smoothly in a slight squat between them before rising to look at the Mandalorian.

"I'm going to ask you one time to leave. Only once. We're here to assist the injured and the fallen, not to fight you, but if you persist, I will be forced to defend us."

He held no weapon in his hand at the moment. It would be impossible to say that he fully intended to fight the man before him. No armor did he wear, just his Jedi robes. This hadn't been meant to be a combat mission, just a rescue one. Perhaps he should have anticipated that the Neo-Crusaders would have taken the opportunity, given the sudden change in the galaxy, to assault Cathar with their decision to reach out to the Alliance. Perhaps. But he wasn't like them, and he didn't want to view everything as a battlefield.

Even when setting foot onto one.

---

ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace)

TAGS: Saverok | Azurine Varek | Aadihr Lidos ​

 

[Nos Voros]

Outfit: Senate Commando Armor [X]
Full Kit Deployment:

Spoiler: Full Kit

* Legion Combat Engineer Multi-Tool

• 4 X Combat/Utility Knife-Model 01
• 2 X Vibroblade-Model 01
• Cortosis Vibroblade
• Legion Combat Pistol Mark I with Whisper-class Suppressor Series
• Legion Crew Personal Protection Weapon Mark I
• Combat Scattergun-Model 01
• 3 X Modular Hand Grenade-Model 01
• 3 X Anti-Armor Grenade-Model 01

* GAHA-32 Lionheart Commando Armor

• Combat Blaster Rifle-Model 01 with Tactical Accessories Series and Underbarrel Grenade Launcher-Model 01 (20 X Launchable Grenade Series)
• 4x blaster cartridges
• 2x stun grenades
• Ascension Pistol
• Fusion Lantern
• Datapad
• Garrote
• 3x stimpacks
• 3x bland survival bars
• 128oz Canteen of water.

Nos barely had time to breath the ozone -smelling air free of the helm before he was on the ground again, his mind not able to keep up with the rattling around in his skull. He could taste the coppery warmth of blood as the healing wounds on his cheek tore open again - followed by a rapid spew of his lunch onto the pavement as he brought himself to his hands and knees unsteadily.

Minor Concussion detected - Bacta Administered - Adrenal Administered - antinauseatic applied - advised report to Medical staff

Nos's eyes widened, suddenly aware of each inch of his body. His pupils dilated further, the suit's dosages accounting for his Zeltron tolerances and efficacy of chem usage. His wobbly limbs steadied. Unnaturally steady. The pain remained, but the world stopped spinning. His internal thoughts silenced, purely calculating with mind-muscle connection.

Before another blow could land, the palm- repulsors of the suit whirred, propelling him up to his feet.

He brought his thumb to his clear nostril, plugging it and blowing the other free of blood while making eye contact with the woman who bloodied it. His face bore neither contempt nor malice; it was the visage of a blank, chem-fueled focus, a sociopathic stare as if she were a puzzle to be solved, an obstacle to be unmade.

He clenched his fist to expose the knuckle plate Vibroblade within.

His other hand pulled a Vibroblade from a cross-lumbar sheathe.

His ears still rang, his higher thoughts still muddled. Without his helm he could neither call for backup nor order a withdrawal. Instead, he was a creature of instinct.

That instinct told him to kill - like second nature he glided on repulsors, dashing with blades brandished towards another clash with the Mandalorian.

Korra Kast​

 

[Rann Thress]

Equipment: Jealousy and Desire.
TAGS: Vera Noble Koda Fett

Rann smiled and nodded gratefully at the response, “I didn’t think you would. I just uh…never had to…Well I’ve never gone into combat with a uh…” he tried to think of the words, “There’s not a lot of real polite ways to say it so I’m just gonna, I’ve never had to look after someone in battle before. This is new territory. But I know you’ll watch my back, I watch yours,” he nodded and exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

The alarm Klaxxons blared across the hangar, and whoever was still lurking about started scrambling to their ships, “C’mon, Vera,” Rann said, turning to walk to their transport, “Music’s on, time to work.”

–

Rann met Vera’s eyes, not once questioning, debating, or arguing.

“Close?” He asked never once blinking before clicking a comm on the wall, “Pilot, put it down here.”

“Acknowledged,” came the response over the comm. Rann returned his gaze to meet Vera’s, inhaling and exhaling slowly, nervous. “We’ll get him.”

He recognized that look, that determination. To deny her this, she’d resent Rann. Her mind would be elsewhere throughout the remainder of the battle.

Keep your thoughts on the here and now where they belong.

How quickly he abandoned his own order to focus on their mission, and only their mission. But for someone to trigger a response like this? They had to be a threat, and they had to be contained.

The Transport shuddered as it came to a halt, hovering several feet above one of the main roads cutting through this district of Taris, as the door slide open on the side of the transport, Rann got a glimpse of the devastation war brought. An all too familiar sight.

Hey keyed the comm, “Pilot, head to the assembly area and assist with evacuation. But when we call, you come. Copy?”

“Copy, sir. Good luck, both of you,” came the response. Rann looked over at Vera and nodded, “Not quite the plan. But we get it done,” he smiled warmly, then brought a finger up between them, pointing it at Vera, “You stick to me like glue, young one. We deal with this spectre of yours, then we do our jobs. Deal?”

With a final nod, and another flash of that warm smile, Rann turned his attention back outside the drop ship, stepping off the edge as he fell down the few feet to the ground. Making impact, he drew his lightsabers from his belt, igniting them both. Twin beams of brilliant purple burst forth from his hilts, and he brought them up in a defensive stance, ready to fight whoever, or whatever, caused Vera’s change of personality.

​

​

 

[Korra Kast]

Korra didn't need a scanner to recognize the shift in him.

She saw it in the cold dilation of his pupils, the way his shoulders squared with the unnatural stillness of a man pushed beyond pain—augmented, not just armored. The wild, stumbling opponent from seconds before was gone. Replaced by the kind of focus you didn't get from training. This was chemical. War-drug focus.

The twin shhhk of Vibroblades set her muscles on edge.

She wasn't stupid enough to try to outmatch a chemically-enhanced berserker blade-for-blade in close quarters. Not right now. Especially since her only melee weapon was her wrist vibroblade from her vambrace. But she was going to make him trip over his own damn rage.

He shot toward her in a blur of powered momentum. Korra using her wrist blade to deflect one of his, but his other made contact on her arm that wasn't covered with Beskar. She was driven back step by step through a ruin of shattered stone and twisted durasteel.

As he lunged again, Korra dropped low beneath his strike and slammed her shoulder into his gut—catching his center of mass before kicking her boot hard against the base of his leg, trying to use his momentum to flip him over her.

Nos Voros

 

[Saverok]

OBJECTIVE II
Tags: Azurine Varek Aadihr Lidos
Equipment: In sig

He could feel a new presence, a heartbeat, nearby and then as if on que this new presence was enacted and then voiced aloud by a singular solemn demand. The titan in beskar slowed as the Jedi dropped down between him and his targets — a smooth landing, polished form, the kind that screamed formal training and peacekeeping doctrine.

Though Saverok didn't stop moving. Not even when the Jedi began his little speech.

"I'm going to ask you one time to leave. Only once. We're here to assist the injured and the fallen, not to fight you, but if you persist, I will be forced to defend us."

They were a humanoid. Garbed in simple brown robes, tan tunic and accented with stripes of purple. Overall facial appearance could be summed up by one word, a word that also could of been used to summarize the jedi choice of standing between Saverok and his current interests. Youthful. The Gen'dai's massive frame rolled forward like a tank on a slow burn, armor plates clinking, the T-shaped visor unmoving, unreadable. And still, he came closer and closer. Calm. Deliberate. His massive shotgun holstered into its place on his back. Hands at his sides and slowly raising into the air in a posture of surrender.

Then… a low sound, guttural and vibrating through the helmet. A chuckle.
"You smell like council halls and burnt incense." His voice was rough, distorted, like gravel dragged through a dying comm. "All that effort to look calm and you're still so karking twitchy. I know everything I need to know about you now." He tilted his head slowly, inspecting Caelan like a butcher choosing his next cut of meat.

Maybe both.

Then Saverok continued forward. No deviation in his path. No change in his gait. Just a mass of heavy plated beskar and the monster underneath it taking long strides directly toward the boy Caelan Valoren in a game of chicken. The real question was...What is he going to do when I walk over him?

 

[Anchat Anura]

​

"Thanks Cap. Make sure your Giant over there keeps its optics out for more Basilisks and gunships. We're going need that firepower. Pick your targets boys, I'll play as bait!"

"You heard her, D-Squad! Let's light up the night!" Anchat ordered. His own Battledroid took up a position, partially obscured by a wall, where he would be able to cover Oz, whose focus was on keeping the skies clear of heavier air support. As the Crusaders attempted to overwhelm or even duel Minerva, they found themselves under heavy Blaster Repeater fire, more than capable of piercing any minor Beskar alloy armor, though any Pure suit would likely be able to take a number of shots, though anyone who was on the wrong end of the weapon would require incredible fortitude to endure a barrage.

Oz targeted the gunships with his missiles, taking advantage of their focus on Minerva Fhirdiad as she made her counter-assault on the gunships and their Crusader escorts. The salvo of missiles would be more than enough to take them down, but Oz only had so many missiles to spare; after he was out, a resupply drop would be necessary, but available.

As a few Crusaders saw the massive Droid as being vulnerable, they quickly discovered that the twin-linked Magnacasters were more than capable of launching bolts through their armor and pinning them against the walls, leaving a grim signal to the Mandalorians about trifling with D-Squad. GARD-O and GARD-E provided the bulk of Oz's support, though, hovering nearby and taking shots at whatever hostile came too close.

XI4, being armed with melee weapons, provided point cover for the Protocol Droid, who, despite its objections of being thrown into a combat situation, still went around from street to street, calling out for survivors. The curiosity of a Protocol Droid in a warzone proved enough of a curiosity that civilians were coming out of their hiding places to see what was going on, whereupon the Droid would give them instructions on where to go for evacuation, and XI4 would escort them there. A few Mandalorians saw the opportunity for slaughter, only to be set upon by a Droid with a Vibrosaber, cutting them down after closing the gap.

"We've got missile reloads for Oz getting flown in, plus a team to keep him loaded," Anchat sent to Minerva over a secure channel, "He'll be able to keep this quarter clear so long as he's got enough missile reloads. But we've got to make sure the missiles arrive. We'll bring in the drop on your order."

 

[Alicio Organa]

Objective III
- Vreegan Fett - Dracken Pryce - Zarion Threx - Open -
​

Well, it was a steadier beginning to a negotiation than Hapes had been. Which wasn't saying much, but it was something. Not comforting, but something.

Alicio acknowledged Representative Threx with a thoughtful, if cautious, glance, before returning his attention to the armored warriors before them. He appreciated having a true diplomat with them today, despite the... troubling reports that had crossed his desks about the cyborg's recent antics on behalf of the Alliance. Senators had too many conflicting agendas. Someone who's job was to seek the middle ground was an invaluable voice to have.

Alicio let his head nod slightly in recognition as the Mandalorian introduced himself. Vreegan was another name that had crossed his desk, in preparation for this meeting. He let himself glance at the display the Fett decided to show them, raising an eyebrow, then returning it to the Mandalorian.

"Let us proceed then, Chancellor Organa."

"We want a temporary ceasefire." Alicio was blunt, direct, honest. It would be a poor tactic, with any regular government. But not with wary Mandalorians, sniffing the air for any hint of deception or projected superiority. "A celestial event beyond any of our scopes has thrown the galaxy into chaos. Instead of taking advantage of it, we wish to use the time to consolidate, and rebuild our infrastructure. We ask that your people do the same."

"Your warriors are vulnerable on Cathar. We have people trapped on Taris. Let's start with a trade." He paused, content with steering the discussion with naked fact. The others could add nuance, and expertise.

 

[Gem-in-Trash]

Gem-in-Trash was pacing about in her quarters that she shared with her mother. Her hair was standing on end, her ears and tails were twitching. She was irritated, beyond irritated. Anger and frustration was coursing through her, and any Jedi could sense it. She knew that her emotions were getting the better of her, that was why she was here, on Coruscant, rather than there, on Cathar, doing something, anything, that would help. Anything to make a difference.

"Gem, please," Digs pleaded, "You need to calm down. This isn't healthy, and it's not helping."

"I should be there, mom! Helping! It's Cathar! It's our homeworld, it's-" Gem threw her hands up in the air, "I know it sounds terrible, but...Those people. We should be among them. It should be our home, and I'm just..."

Gem waved her arms around, gesturing at everything and nothing, "Here."

"You're not just 'Here', Gem. You're studying to be a Jedi. The Jedi are our home, too. I know you're angry, but that's why you can't be involved. You know that. You aren't ready. There are other things that you can focus on," Digs reminded her. Gem took a breath. Digs was right. Of course she was. But that didn't make it better. It didn't change anything. She still felt angry and helpless, doing nothing but watching it all unfold on the holo. Gem looked at her mother, and saw her expression. Gem realized that she was not alone in the worry and anger and helplessness. Her mother had already lost her whole tribe, her family.

Digs had no tribe to lose. She just had Gem.

Gem crawled onto her mother's lap and began to nuzzle her mother, "The Alliance is doing everything they can. The Mandalorians will be offworld. They won't be under occupation anymore soon. They'll be free again."

Digs smiled, and began to nuzzle her back, "Thank you, Gem."

They sat, mother and daughter, cuddling and purring to reassure each other. A tribe of two.

The doorbell chimed; the pair of them looked up; they weren't expecting anyone. Digs checked the cam, and her eyes went wide.

"Who is it?" Gem asked.

"It's..." Digs opened the door, and standing there, with her hands behind her back, was Master Soruh Rha, better known as The Serene, one of the Thirteen Grandmasters of Si-Dom Ra'Cath, the Cathar Martial Arts. Gem had known she lived on Coruscant, and had even met her briefly.

Gem's emotions were mixed to say the least.

"Master Rha," Gem bowed to her; the Cathar Jedi Master bowed back.

"It is good to see you again, Padawan. Miss Digs. May I come in?" she asked.

"By all means," Digs-the-Sands gestured and stepped out of the way. Soruh entered, looking about their quarters. Jedi quarters were usually kept austere, but Digs and Gem were quite comfortable being surrounded by many things. For Digs, it reminded her of her life as a nomad, having all her things hanging around and making their limited space even more crowded.

"What can I do for you?" Gem asked. Soruh smiled.

"I could sense your distress on my way here. Rest assured - both of you - everything is being done that can be done," she said. Gem rubbed her arms.

"I know how this is going to sound, Master, but...Why are you here? I mean, also in our quarters, but like...Here, on Coruscant? Why aren't you on Cathar?" Gem asked, trying to be measured and not accusatory. Soruh's smile bore a pain.

"I do not have an answer that is going to sate you, Gem. Accept that I regret this, too. But we could not have foreseen the conjunction, nor the conflict that has come of it. I will join the other Grandmasters as soon as I can. I will not leave Cathar unattended again," Soruh assured her. Gem nodded, and found herself more at ease with her emotions. Soruh turned to Digs.

"I am actually here to speak with you, Digs-the-Sands. I understand that you were Nyota Liko'we?"

Digs' ear twitched, "I was. My father was from Taris but he joined my mother's tribe when they got married."

"This must be particularly hard for you. Taris is a second home for our people. But we may be able to do more. You are more familiar with the ways of the Nyota than anyone else we have on hand, Digs. We may need the help of the Nyota fleets. I would like to send you on a mission to acquire their help. They may be willing to help in the evacuations and in securing Cathar's orbit."

Digs shifted, rubbing her arms in much the same way her daughter did, "That was a long time ago. I've spent more time among the Jedi than among the Nyota. I was a child when I was taken."

"You are who we have available, and the situation is moving quickly. I know this isn't your specialty. We'll send anyone else we can contact, but most of those who we could ask are already on the ground, either on Taris or Cathar itself."

"I'll go too," Gem said; it wasn't a request.

"Of course," said Master Rha.

"Do you know who I'm talking to already?" Digs asked.

"Yes. We've already identified a nearby fleet. If they aren't willing to help, then they'll know another fleet who are. The Galactic Alliance can only get so involved, but if the Nyota intervene, then it will be considered a Cathar affair. Something internal. And it will give our people hope."

Digs nodded, "Let's get to our ship, then."