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

[Zarion Threx]

Tags: Alicio Organa Dracken Pryce Vreegan Fett

---

Zarion's expressionless metal visage moved to look between the other three individuals. He pondered the exchange of positions and rationales, and whenever he thought he could contribute towards progressing the discussion he spoke up in an even-toned voice "If your primary concern is the proper respect towards memorials of cultural import to your people and less so the acquisition of a star system perhaps that could be more easily arranged?" Zarion looked towards the Chancellor briefly as he spoke in an attempt to not over-step then back towards the Mand'Alor "Would you be amendable to the proposal of arranging terms for the treatment of specific sites of Dxun? While acknowledging that no such autonomous or sovereign protectorate polity would be established?" he let the suggestion of the proposal sink in for a few seconds.

Then Zarion motioned towards the Chancellor gently while still looking towards the Mand'Alor "Would such guarantees help pave the way towards His Excellency's desire to find a mutually beneficial reprieve and-" the envoy didn't have a throat to clear but there was a noticeable pause in his speech as he attempted to use the Mando'a he had been studying in preparation of the summit "-your desire to see Dxun's sites preserved, Al'Ori'Ramikade?"

 

[Damian du Couteau]

Damian du Couteau, Senator of Empress Teta
Objective: Three
Outfit

Damian had found himself quite exhausted, a tiredness that seeped into his very bones.

The responsibility to manage his time had been left entirely to his overworked Chief of Staff. Neither were in any position to properly manage their own schedule let alone one another, but Damaian pushed through with copious amounts of caffeine stimulated drinks as his poor data-slate had never been more abused. The only respite Damian allowed his computers to find were when they were either in need to be recharged or when he’d fall asleep at his desk or in a middle of hyper transit.

For his part the young du Couteau heir had found precious few hours of sleep to alleviate his rather haggard state. His mind had been quite thankful, while his appearance betrayed it with darkened circles around his left eye. A part of him wished he could simply disguise his face in the manner of his right-eye, but a mask did not befit a Tetan Noble in terms of dealings and business. If he had come from an even older generation the idea of an eye-patch would had also sat wrong with him unfortunately.

Damian kept himself as awake and focused as possible as he listened to the negotiations with the Neo-Crusaders. He was one without much to comment, the greater galaxy had shifted and absolute chaos had flooded the markets and the Alliance economy. Instead he entrusted himself to record the minutes of the meeting and adjust reports in between moments of silence.

Truth be told, the Sith delegation felt quite more hostile. Damian counted his blessings, the scant few that had blossomed in the recent days.

Though he also held as much hope for any negotiations to succeed here as much as the ones with the Sith. The previous incursions of Mandalorians had ended with the group burnt out, much like a candle set ablaze at both ends. Burn bright but embrace the darkness as it swiftly arrives as the light fades. If Damian found himself with enough emotional courage he might pity such a culture. The inability to adjust or change always followed such well-worn roads to ultimate self-destruction.

Damian’s mind found an old memory of poetry, Enjoy what time you have, not the times of what should be, though he found little enjoyment with further prospect of war and the scars of future battlefields. But I guess the Mandalorians embrace a similar motto as well, enjoy each and every battle. The end comes for us all eventually, might as well smile in as many moments as possible.
​

|| Dracken Pryce | Alicio Organa | Zarion Threx | Vreegan Fett ||​

 

[Caelan Valoren]

In all honesty, it surprised even him that the blade cut the Beskar so effectively. The people behind the design of the of the lightsaber components he had requested had assured him that it would. Didn't mean it would be this effective. He'd expected it to still take time. He figured that maybe his slash would have left some scoring that would weaken the overall bonding and that he would have to wear away at the armor. The fact that his blade had cut through it like it was nothing more than durasteel was quite amazing.

But he was also caught off guard with how quickly the Mandalorian seemed to recover from such a devastating strike.

This was not an ordinary Mandalorian, but something different, something that healed with rapidity. Something that had injected itself with some sort of serum that had suddenly given it the ability to affect the Force. But Caelan DID recognize that this person was not, previously, a practitioner of the Force, and that outside influence was being weighed down upon him an attempt to deaden his own connection. No, to trick him into believing it was deadened, and that he was incapable of using the Force to defend himself!

Flame lapped at his clothing and hair, catching on the outer parts of his robe, before he managed to get up a weak enough barrier to deflect the rest of it away. Flame had little kinetic force, even when projected, and a weak barrier was enough that he could throw himself away from the Mandalorian, land upon the ground, and roll away to a kneeling position, flames no longer eating at his clothing, though it had done a number on his outer robe, which he quickly worked to remove. He was also going to need a new hair cut.

For the moment he didn't attack again. He needed a second to remove his damaged robe and to think through what he'd just discovered about his opponenent. There wasn't any dark side sorcery about him, so he didn't think it was something of that nature. Could it have something to do with whatever he'd injected himself with? It was possible, but that had given him enhanced abilities with the Force. Could it also quickly heal him from grievous injuries? Doubtful. Not unless there were multiple compounds in that injection, and considering the likelihood of an adverse reaction between multiple compounds, it was unlikely.

He hadn't felt or heard electronics, either. No, he was a being of flesh and blood. Something that could heal almost instantly. There was one in the Jedi that was capable of doing that. He'd never met him, though he'd seen him in passing and knew the species. Was the person underneath the Mandalorian mask a Gen'dai? Maybe? Or something else. Either way, he was going to have to find a way to defeat him, and clearly cutting him in half wasn't going to work, given what he'd already done, nor was removing limbs likely to.

New plans were needed.

You need to get them out and go, he sent mentally to Azurine. I can't fight this guy forever. He's too strong. Hurry.

---

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

TAGS: Aadihr Lidos | Azurine Varek | Saverok (Engaging)​

 

[Korra Kast]

Korra darted behind the twisted frame of a wrecked speeder just as the first blast from the scattergun chewed into its side. Pellets tore through the metal like shrapnel from a thermal detonator, ripping jagged holes inches from where her arm had been a heartbeat before.


"Frontal push now?" she muttered under her breath, eyes narrowing behind the T-visor.


She was already moving.


Boots skidded across shattered ferrocrete as she sprinted wide, using the uneven terrain to break his line of sight. Nos advanced like a juggernaut—slow, heavy, and loud—each step and blast giving her the cover she needed to vanish into the ruinous mess of this half-demolished street.


She snapped one of the compact mirrors from her belt and slapped it to the side of a collapsed service droid, angle turned with a flick of her wrist. Another mirror slid into place atop a shattered light fixture. A third at the edge of an upturned freighter crate.

She placed a few more around the area, all in strategically sound places to accomplish what she needed.

Korra ducked behind a half-standing pillar and yanked the long, rifle from the clasp on her back. In seconds, the long barrel snapped into place and was leveled—not at Nos directly, but at the nearest mirror. She tracked his movement through the reflections of the mirrors.

Korra fired.

The shot pinged off the mirror, then ricocheted from the second reflective surface, bending around the debris. It made its way around, coming in at Nos' flank.

Nos Voros

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

The heat between them cracked like thunder. Metal shrieked against the Force. Valery's eyes locked on Brent's through the visor — or what lay behind it. Rage. Resolve. That old, tired mantra of dying for glory, of refusing surrender for the sake of pride.

"Then you'll die for nothing."

No roar. No flourish. Her voice was quiet. Icy. A blade of its own. Their clash came a heartbeat later. His cortosis-woven vambrace snapped up to meet her descending saber — a searing crash of violet light and brute strength that sent sparks flying, but did not cause her blade to falter. For a moment after, they were locked. Blades grinding, dust swirling around them in a cyclone of fire and fury.

Then his second arm came forward. That hook — brutal, fast — aimed for her throat.

Valery didn't flinch.

She vanished.

Not gone, not truly — but for the blink of an eye, she shifted through the Force like water through stone. Her body phased just enough to pass through him, incorporeal for the instant it mattered most. His hook met only smoke and air. Brent's own momentum would hopefully carry him forward to bring him off-balance.

And Valery was suddenly behind him. Before he could turn, before he could hopefully even fully register what had happened, she spun — not with elegance this time, but with raw, punishing force.

Her saber came down in a brutal arc across his back, aimed to crash into armor with the full weight of her strength, the fury of the Force behind it. It wasn't a killing blow — not yet — but it was meant to drop him. To break his stance. To end the fight before more blood spilled on Cathar's already-scarred soil.

Valery didn't yell. She didn't gloat. But her eyes burned like the edge of a star.

It was his final warning.

Brent Warnel ​

 

[Nos Voros]

Objective: Bring Order to Chaos
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.

The target dashed from cover to cover, between blasts the shred the surfaces of each object. Nos was relentless, but mindless. Without his helm, he couldn't hear the biometric alarms recommending retreat.

His existence was blissfully simple in this moment.

Then a beam zig-zagged faster than his eyes could track, even if he weren't concussed and propped up by pharmaceuticals. The bolt struck a weaker spot in the armor, a solid carbon scoring darkening the section at the bottom of his ribcace but above the pelvis, just below the serratus.

The armor held, but the burst from rapid expansion of condensation to vapor and material combustion knocked the wind from the commando, tilting him to the side as he staggered down to one knee and catching himself with the knuckles of his sword arm.

The seconds that passed as he attempted to gasp for air amidst the spasms of his diaphragm were painfully sobering. It gave time to think. To feel.

When the gasp and breath of air finally arrived, so did the feeling of every injury, and the sense of nausea, if still dulled. He gulped for air and coughed every breath, the scars of his face re-opened and bleeding again.

Nos needed a way to end this. A means that would not cede this pathway to the enemy nor trample lingering bystanders of the conflict. Ultimately, this was larger than himself, he realized in the brief moment of sobriety.

He could fight and potentially win, or die in the process. That didn't bother him - but the cost of lives should he fail did. It was an odd feeling, perhaps a side effect of the dosages applied. Nos never considered himself to be a 'greater good' type.

He repeated the Mandalorian's words back to her.

"How much credits is worth it to you?" He asked. "This point being captured by the Crusaders. What's the value of it to you?"

He had a bounty for his capture. If this woman was here for credits, she could make plenty - and the street may yet stay clear if she has to escort a live captive away from the conflict.

Between a coughing fit, he slowly set down his scattergun, reaching for his datapad instead. If she made no sudden moves, he would pull up the details that he discovered flagged on the holonet and slide it over to her.

Either way, the stimms were wearing off, and a battle of attrition didn't favor him.

Korra Kast​

 

[Korra Kast]

Korra's visor gleamed as she stepped from behind the column, securing the rifle back into place. She didn't advance yet—didn't need to. The sound of him struggling to breathe was more telling than a thousand scans. His body had reached its limit. Hers hadn't, but he did managed to get some decent shots in during their skirmish.

She watched him—closely. Carefully.

He wasn't faking the pain. She saw the blood streaked across his face, the twitch of a diaphragm still fighting to realign itself. No helmet. No bluff. Just a man worn raw and weighing his options.

Her head tilted at his question.

"How much credits is worth it to you?"

A beat of silence.

"That would depend on how much you're willing to offer." Korra replied. Her voice was calm now. Less taunting. There was no need for it anymore. She could tell he was working out all the angles, same as her.

Korra walked forward slowly. Boots soft against cracked pavement, not aiming a weapon, just… watching him as he pulled the datapad out. She crouched down to pick it up.

"There's a bounty for your capture. Are you offering yourself up then?"

Nos Voros

 

[Nos Voros]

Objective: Surrender.
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.

"There's a bounty for your capture. Are you offering yourself up then?"

Nos nodded. Ironic, that he bore so many injuries from a bounty he would end up using as a bribe.

He tried to speak falteringly, to urge for some benefit in the greater conflict, but it mattered little. In half an hour, Nos would be incapable of putting up a fight anyway.

"Yes." Is all he managed to utter.

He noted his helmet was far out of reach. He would not be able to inform the others.

Nos disabled and removed the gauntlets and boots from the armor, laying down his weapons. If he were less injured, less worn down by the bounty hunters sent by Eivii , he might have tried something. Until she was dealt with, he only brought danger to those he would protect.

One who did not approach him for the purposes of capture, such as this woman, might be the ideal neutral candidate for safe delivery.

Each moment that passed was increasingly sobering as his two livers worked to return his body to regular operating status.

"I yield."

Korra Kast​

 

[Korra Kast]

"I yield."

The phrase hung in the air like the last note of a long, tense song. She didn't move at first. Her helmeted head remained fixed on him, while she placed her hands on her hips. She watched him shed the gauntlets. The boots. Laid down his blades. But there was a problem.

A silent sigh slipped past her lips, too soft for the external audio to catch.

"You've put me in an interesting position here. This Eivii person is willing to pay 10,000 for you. I am now wondering if anyone on this planet is willing to pay more for your return. What about the senator you're bodyguarding? Will she pay to get you back?"

Nos Voros

 

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Objective II
Defend the Eastern Square​

Tag: Anchat Anura


At the diminutive captain's request Minerva nodded. What he pointed out made sense. If she was a crusader the best choice would be to prepare a combined offensive with overwhelming firepower against heavy resistance, expected or not.

Ascending back to the air the warrior began her sweep, starting from the north west. Near and far the orchestra of war raged onward. Using her scanners she maintained reconnaissance in a semi circle, spotting movement from both west and southeast. What Minerva found alarmed her and immediately she reported.

"Three more Basilisks flying from the south east with a squad of warriors flying with them in escort. They're also throwing in four armored speeders with mounted cannons and one repulsor tank leading the charge from the west on the ground. I'm calling in my gunship."

She made the call but it will still take time for Tyatr to arrive. Minerva did have an ace card but can only do it once and it will be cutting it close.

So be it.

Then to any observer's shock she sped toward the flying column alone. Using her helmet's rangefinder Minerva was locking down targets. Just as she did however, both the basilisks and their accompanying warriors began shooting at her as soon the loner was in range. Zig-zagging in swift evasion but still caught some blaster bolts hitting her beskar and she winced in reaction.

Almost there…

Then at the last moment being several meters away below the flying column she unleashed a missile on blast mode from her missile launcher in the left vambrace. It struck toward the mass of jetpack crusaders and ignited into their midst. The sheer force slapped Minerva sending her backwards in flipping motion. Those not killed by the explosion were knocked out from the air and would fall to their deaths or be crippled. Yet the Balisks remained on course but as they did Tyatr attacked and shot down one from the left side.

The two scattered and swung around to engage the new threat in a dogfight.

As that happened Minerva kept falling out of control. Her jetpack wasn't working!

Gritting her teeth she activated her jet boots and finally gained control again, just narrowly avoiding being splattered on the rubble below. She landed in a roll next to Anura. Breathing heavily Minerva nonetheless remarked, in defiance.

"Let's get 'em!"

 

[Vera Noble]

Taris

​

Tag: Rann Thress Koda Fett Jackson Lesan

​

The moment the dust cleared, Vera froze.

She didn't need the Force to know — she could feel it in her chest, in the way the very air seemed to still around him. The Mandalorian stood like a statue carved out of shadow and war, unmoving, untouched by the wreckage of the battlefield around him.

Vera didn't breathe for a second. Then she exhaled, eyes locked on the visor.

"That's him," she said quietly, voice low but sure as stone. "The one I saw."

Her hand was already moving. With a snap-hiss, her green lightsaber flared to life at her side. She stepped closer to Rann, blade raised, feet firm beneath her. The fear was there — a thrum in her ribs, cold behind her ears — but it didn't rule her.

"He's dangerous," she added, glancing up at Rann. "Really dangerous."

Then she squared her shoulders. "But I'm not running."

Without waiting for a reply, she surged forward with him, feet pounding against the cracked duracrete, her blade catching the ash in streaks of green light. One breath. One step at a time. No panic. No hesitation. Together.

They ran toward the Mandalorian.

Toward Koda to engage.

​

 

[Nos Voros]

Objective: Surrender
Outfit: disarmed

Spoiler: Rubrus Squad

Squad Leader: Captain Nos Voros (Zeltron male)
Fire Team Alpha — GAHA-32 Lionheart Commando Armor
Team Leader: Lieutenant Karis Vonn (Human female, Corellian)

• AT-FL9 Flechette Launcher
• A sharp tactician with experience in counter-assassination operations.

Medic: Sergeant Lorne Vesik (Mirialan male)

• Former Judicial Forces combat medic,
• GAGL 56 Snarl Grenade Launcher
• specializing in battlefield triage and trauma care.

Machine Gunner: Corporal Bex Jarn (Besalisk male)

• Heavy weapons expert.
• AT-RB07 Heavy Repeating Blaster
• Strong but surprisingly fast for his size, excels at defensive holds and breaching operations.

Rifleman: Private Tash Renn (Human male, Chandrilan)

• A precise and disciplined soldier.
• BHSR-1 Service Rifle
• Prefers coordinated maneuvers and works best in tight formations.

---

Fire Team Bravo — GAHA-32 Lionheart Commando Armor
Team Leader 2: Sergeant Jil Torvan (Togruta female)

• Former planetary security officer with expertise in urban combat.
• GARBR-5 Beak repeating blaster
• Skilled in squad coordination.

Marksman: Corporal Rann Kyber (Nautolan male)

• Expert sharpshooter.
• GABB-15 Talon II Blaster Carbine
• Specializes in eliminating priority targets at long range.

Heavy Weapons: Private Drax Molgar (Zabrak male)

• Specializes in explosives and heavy ordinance.
• ML-04E-GA Rocket Launcher
• Often deployed against armored threats or for breaching enemy positions.

Rifleman: Private Cass Deren (Duros male)

• Agile and quick-thinking.
• BHSR-1 Service Rifle
• Often acts as the squad's point man, scouting ahead for danger.

"You've put me in an interesting position here. This Eivii person is willing to pay 10,000 for you. I am now wondering if anyone on this planet is willing to pay more for your return. What about the senator you're bodyguarding? Will she pay to get you back?"

The Mandalorian spoke of Lady Sylvia Organa - she was wealthy, and most likely would pay significantly more for him to return.

She was equally likely to launch an investigation and an SIA Black Ops unit retrieving him and putting the life of Eivii in danger. Bad as the blood was between them, Nos didn't wish for her death. Foolish as it was, he still felt a pang of sympathy for the Chiss mercenary.

It would be dangerous, but he also didn't harbor such malice as to lead this woman into a deathtrap. Maybe the chems were wearing off, or maybe Nos was getting soft. Regardless, speaking truthfully seemed the best option.

"She very well might, but she just as easily might decide not to negotiate. The bounty also fails to mention my current role - as captain of a squad."
Nos's eyes flicked to the helmet. No doubt the squad was already on alert from his suit's biometrics.
"That gamble is yours to take. Lady Organa didn't survived countless attempts on her life and an upbringing in hiding by being a pushover."

He made no effort to persuade one way or the other. He was far too dazed to scheme beyond the very basics.

Korra Kast​

 

[Saverok]

Objective II
Dis-engaging: Caelan Valoren and trippin out
Adjacent Tags: Aadihr Lidos Azurine Varek
Equipment: in Sig​

As Caelan rolled to safety, flames licking away at the outer robe and singeing the edges of his otherwise composed form, Saverok observed with a growing fascination laced in something deeper… darker. Jealousy. So clean, he thought. So sharp and deliberate. His every motion guided by the Force itself…It was a power Saverok used to know. Once. Before it was torn from him, burned out and corrupted by chemicals and half-complete rituals, twisted cybernetics and desperation. His connection now was like a frayed wire, sometimes sparking with something like the dark side, but mostly... broken.

And yet Caelan? Still flowing, still fighting. Still intact. The envy bubbled beneath his helmet. When the Jedi paused, stripped of his robes, still smoldering but defiant, Saverok broke into an almost joyous laugh. Rough and heavy, like a machine trying to remember how to sing. "Ah yes!" he barked through the helmet's modulated growl, "I was wondering when I'd see this part of you. Shab has indeed just—how do you put it—'hit the fan.'"

He took a heavy step forward, boots thudding like falling slabs of duracrete.

"You were wise to wear brown robes. Heheh."

And then, as if mocking the gravity of the moment, the Gen'dai lifted one hand and casually threw up a profane, almost juvenile gesture—flicking Caelan off without hesitation. The kind of thing more common in seedy cantinas than battlefields.

But what followed wasn't laughter. It was wrong.

The field of suppression that had surrounded him—so heavy, so grinding—snapped. Not outward, not in a sudden blast of dark power, but inward, like a vacuum collapsing on itself. For a brief moment, the dark side flared—raw, ancient, feral—and then...Gone. Withered. Receding into something less than dormant. Like a man forgetting a language he'd once spoken fluently. The shift was near instantaneous.

Saverok's hands began to tremble. The trembling turned to shaking.

He growled low—deep enough to vibrate the inside of his helmet—and fumbled at his belt like a man on fire trying to find water. The injector. The goddamned injector. His fingers, thick with armor and frenzy, finally found it. A hiss and a snap. The glass ampule ejected and fell to the ground, shattering. Threads of shimmering, iridescent gold leaked out into the dust.

Spice.

The Jedi may have sensed it earlier as something—but now, it was plain. This wasn't just alchemy. It wasn't dark science. It was addiction. Spice, maybe cut with Sith alchemy. Maybe enhanced with something worse. But it was his lifeline—and now it was gone. Again his hands scrambled across his belt, slapping at compartments, shoving aside grenades and canisters. Nothing. The trembling worsened, becoming a full-body tremor. And then, in a sudden lurch of motion, Saverok leapt backward—three meters in a single bound—crashing into a group of his own Neo-Crusaders.

The recruits scattered, groaning and swearing as the behemoth landed among them, his massive frame clanking and twitching with disoriented fury. One Cathar recruit stepped forward, armor still pristine, speaking quickly in Mando'a. Their voice was gentle, offering assistance. Their posture non-threatening, a hand reaching out.

It was a mistake.

A flash. No. A blur.

Saverok's armored fist snapped out like a hammer, backhanding the Cathar with the kind of monstrous strength only a Gen'dai could wield. The blow landed squarely across the jaw and temple. A sickening CRACK echoed out—bone splitting, helmet shearing away in a spray of shattered composite plating and teeth. The recruit's body lifted from the ground and sailed several meters before crumpling into a heap—limbs bent at angles that were never meant to exist. Gasps rippled through the Neo-Crusaders. No one moved. Not to check the body. Not to speak. Just silence.

And Saverok? He didn't notice. Or didn't care. He was still crouched low, hands trembling like a marionette with frayed strings, shoulders rising and falling with what appeared like ragged breaths. His HUD was filled with static alerts, and somewhere beneath all the rage and brutality was a deep, poisonous need. The shaking only stopped when another tube of the same shimmering iridescent gold spice was found and loaded into the injector with a snap. All in one greedy motion of desperation and anticipatory relief! "You wanna know what I injected myself with?! Let me show you!" He hissed holding the medical device loosely and still enraptured by what would be, but not what was. His confidence slowly returning to him.

 

[Korra Kast]

Korra didn't respond right away. She stood, slow and deliberate, as if she were weighing the weight of every word he'd spoken. She could take him as bargaining tool to see if the senator would pay, and if not, take it from there.

"Fine. I'll take the gamble."

She activated a transponder to call her ship over, because there was no way she was going to drag his body back. "Do you have a way to contact her? I'm not about to blindly fly my ship there and risk it being shot down."

Nos Voros

 

[Strix]

Bellum Contra Omnes​

S T R I X​

| Location | Low Orbit, Cathar​

| Objective | Rain hellfire​

​

Strix had concluded his firing solution as he observed the surface below him, the destroyer he was aboard coming in to view of the Cathar city. Several deep warbles followed by his optics flashing sporadically followed as his vocoded voice was heard over the Mandalorian Crusader's battle network over Cathar. ​

​

"Strix to all Crusader elements, firing solution complete, commencing strategic orbital bombardment. Maintain your current positions. Glory to the Crusades."​

​

The droid turned to the crew of the ship as it nodded, gesturing to commence the bombardment. Turbolaser turrets turned as they took aim at their targets. A moment of silence and stillness fell upon Cathar, as the shadow of the Crusader ships that hovered in low orbit was cast over the unfortunate, misbegotten souls of the natives and their so-called defenders before the sky was soon filled with orange turbolasers opening fire and sundering the sky. ​

​

Strix had taken care to ensure that the strike locked onto the most densely populated areas of the city, targeting evacuation points,shelters and fortified positions while being careful to avoid areas with the heaviest density of Crusaders. A deadly, surgical strike that would maximize the casualties of those while inflicting heavy damage upon the city. ​

​

A creeping barrage of destruction and fire would raze defensive positions and send those attempting to fortify and defend the natives scattering into disarray, opening up opportunities for the Crusaders to advance and seize ground. Strix's optics observed the destruction and recorded it to ensure that the message was acknowledged and understood.​

​

​

[ Those on OBJ 2 feel free to react as you'd like, this is more background noise than anything ]​

​

 

[Nos Voros]

Spoiler: Rubrus Squad

Squad Leader: Captain Nos Voros (Zeltron male)
Fire Team Alpha — GAHA-32 Lionheart Commando Armor
Team Leader: Lieutenant Karis Vonn (Human female, Corellian)

• AT-FL9 Flechette Launcher
• A sharp tactician with experience in counter-assassination operations.

Medic: Sergeant Lorne Vesik (Mirialan male)

• Former Judicial Forces combat medic,
• GAGL 56 Snarl Grenade Launcher
• specializing in battlefield triage and trauma care.

Machine Gunner: Corporal Bex Jarn (Besalisk male)

• Heavy weapons expert.
• AT-RB07 Heavy Repeating Blaster
• Strong but surprisingly fast for his size, excels at defensive holds and breaching operations.

Rifleman: Private Tash Renn (Human male, Chandrilan)

• A precise and disciplined soldier.
• BHSR-1 Service Rifle
• Prefers coordinated maneuvers and works best in tight formations.

---

Fire Team Bravo — GAHA-32 Lionheart Commando Armor
Team Leader 2: Sergeant Jil Torvan (Togruta female)

• Former planetary security officer with expertise in urban combat.
• GARBR-5 Beak repeating blaster
• Skilled in squad coordination.

Marksman: Corporal Rann Kyber (Nautolan male)

• Expert sharpshooter.
• GABB-15 Talon II Blaster Carbine
• Specializes in eliminating priority targets at long range.

Heavy Weapons: Private Drax Molgar (Zabrak male)

• Specializes in explosives and heavy ordinance.
• ML-04E-GA Rocket Launcher
• Often deployed against armored threats or for breaching enemy positions.

Rifleman: Private Cass Deren (Duros male)

• Agile and quick-thinking.
• BHSR-1 Service Rifle
• Often acts as the squad's point man, scouting ahead for danger.

"Do you have a way to contact her? I'm not about to blindly fly my ship there and risk it being shot down."

Nos lifted one of the gauntlets, activating the wrist communicator.

<<Rubrus actual, continue with standard orders, do not pursue. Bravo leader, arrange a holo-rendezvous with Lady Sylvia Organa directly.>>

<<Acknowled, Rubrus Leader, arranging communications.>>

Nos handed the gauntlets to Korra Kast - while there might be some delay, a comms request from the front line was unlikely to go unnoticed by Lady Organa.

"They can track the communicator and the helmet."
Nos continued, listening to the sounds of conflict growing closer.

Korra Kast / to be continued​

 

[Korra Kast]

Korra Kast took the gauntlets from Nos, her expression unreadable beneath the edge of her helmet. But her movements were swift, decisive—used to battlefields, pressure, and everything falling apart around her.

"Got it."

Her ship had landed nearby, and was lowering its ramp, when Korra grabbed Nos and started to drag him towards it. Once inside, the ship sealed shut behind them, engines warming up. Korra just dumped Nos in a corner and put bindings on him to prevent him doing anything stupid.

With that, Korra had the ship take off and fly around the area while she waited on the holo-call to connect.

Nos Voros

 

[Caelan Valoren]

The way the Mandalorian spoke, and gestured, made him wonder if he was facing a colossal five-year-old rather than an adult. Seriously, who went around flipping people off and talking about wearing brown clothes in such a manner? He knew they were crude, these Mandalorians, but this took that to a level beyond what he'd expected of them. In fact, he almost groaned at just how distasteful it was. Instead, he rolled his eyes and stood even as the Mandalorian came towards him, preparing to fight as he needed to.

But then something curious happened.

The field that had been affecting him before suddenly snapped back into the being that came at him, and then a brief flare of the dark side of the Force. It cut at him like an open wound, and the scar on his cheek, though healed long ago, ached for a moment. He tensed, but the armored beast began to tremble and slap at himself, digging through pouches in search of something before leaping away from him. It was a leap that impressed; one that most wouldn't be able to make without the assistance of the Force or some form of mechanical device.

Something was clearly wrong. Vial after empty vial. Caelan recognized it, if only because he'd seen similar in his time spent hiding in the under city of Coruscant: addiction. The man in the suit was addicted and his time was up. If he didn't get it, his body would not allow him control, as evidenced by the ferocity with which he destroyed one of his own companions. Why anyone would side with someone like that he didn't know.

But there was also opportunity in this. Opportunity to win the fight without having to kill, without having to harm, without having to fight further. At least the way he saw it.

And in that moment, before the beast in the armor could inject himself with confidence and power, Caelan reached out through the Force, drawing extra strength from the crystal within his lightsaber, and grasped at the injector, attempting to relieve the man of it, and take from him everything that made him what he was, his great strength and also his great weakness. Perhaps, in some ways, it was cruel that he do so, because the Mandalorian would suffer immensely without it, but it may also be for the best. Not just for himself, as it kept him from having to face the brute in combat, but also for the beast that suffered from a need which would, eventually, kill him.

---

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

TAGS: Aadihr Lidos | Azurine Varek | Saverok (Engaging)​

 

[Vreegan Fett]

Alicio Organa Dracken Pryce Zarion Threx Damian du Couteau

Vreegan was strategically biding his time during these negotiations, if they could even be termed as such, fully aware that a consensus on a ceasefire was unlikely. Should a ceasefire be established for whatever reason even if strategic, Lord Mandalore would forfeit the backing of the warmongering clans that had elevated him to power.

This was one of the key reasons he had been dispatched to delay the discussions with the Alliance in the first place. Propose an unfeasible agreement that they would inevitably reject, and then hold them accountable for the subsequent failure of negotiations.

This was exemplified by Dracken Pryce , who staunchly opposed the notion of establishing a Protectorate over the Moon of Dxun. Following him was Chancellor Alicio Organa , whose professed dedication to the sovereignty of member worlds was, at best, laughable and, at worst, ironic.

Where were these commitments when the Crimson Veil chose to revolt against the Hapan Monarchy, resulting in the Queen's death?

"Quite amusing, Chancellor," Vreegan remarked, dismissing his arguments as if they were insignificant debris.

"The Alliance contributed minimally to the liberation of the Core from the Dark Empire. It was our assaults on Ithor and Selnesh that effectively dismantled the Imperial Regime, which you failed to eliminate over Tython. Your defeat over Woostri also remains a potent pont about the Alliance's strength even as its strongest as its now sealed off by the Sith's Blackwall." He spoke with unwavering firmness, fully aware that the Alliance's strength and potential power projection was irrelevant to their conversation. Although they had secured a somewhat victory over the Dark Empire, it was only by neutralizing the remaining Imperial Warlords, who were no longer a cohesive force.

He would turn towards Zarion Threx , glancing down at the recording of the battle of Cathar and Taris on the table.

A creeping barrage of destruction and fire would raze defensive positions and send those attempting to fortify and defend the natives scattering into disarray, opening up opportunities for the Crusaders to advance and seize ground. Strix's optics observed the destruction and recorded it to ensure that the message was acknowledged and understood.

"Cathar burns to the ground while we are currently having this discussion, hundreds of civilians have already died and the tally will keep climbing higher and higher with each counter-proposal your delegation makes. Though you may not have blood on your hands physically, you will prolong their suffering until the entire species is rendered extinct by our hands" He would explain while gesturing towards the Chancellor and former Vice-Chancellor, along with the recently arrived Senator Damian du Couteau .

"While I am not devoid of compassion, I can be inclined to modify my proposal to align with a different narrative. Dxun will be designated as off-limits to the New Jedi Order in return for a cease-fire agreement between our factions. I have made adjustments to the terms; pray I do not alter them any further." Vreegan concluded.

 

[Brent Warnel]

"Then you'll die for nothing."

Ni won't cuyir dying olar, jetiise, Brent thought as she charged.

Force against flesh, superhuman strength, speed, and cognition versus brute strength, fury, and an armory of weapons. Valery Noble 's lightsaber crashed against his Beskar'gam, the heat from the violet blade searing into the armor and scorching the paint, but no damage came from it.

Brent pushed against her as he threw his devastating hook, but as it was about to connect, she vanished. His fist continued into the spot she just was as he instantly registered more Jedi tricks. She had gone invisible like the one he had fought on Naboo. But even knowing they were Jedi tricks, momentum was still momentum.

His powerful punch caused him to take an exaggerated step forward and to the side to get his balance. As he did this, his HUD lit up from its 360-degree view, alerting him to the violet lightsaber descending upon him from behind.

So be it, he thought. It connected with a strength her frame should not have been able to wield, but Valery Noble was powerful in the force, and it amplified her to a level even he was envious of. But he was a Mandalorian, and while he may not have the force, he had his weapons, skill, and a ferocity that would not be denied.

The lightsaber crashed into his Beskar'gam, screeching with the impact, which catapulted him forward. He rolled with the blow as best he could, but it was more of a controlled tumble than a graceful flip. His HUD lit up as it registered flesh burns the lightsaber caused to the less armored portions of his back, but he was already full of stems and didn't fill it.

He rolled in the dirt, ending the roll on his side and facing her with both wrists extended toward the Jedi. A net launched from one wrist and his complement of whistling birds from the other, both streaking toward the Jedi. He hoped the net would encapsulate her while the whistling birds ripped through her body, leaving it broken and bleeding on the dirt. But if they didn't, he would use the few seconds to get up and sprint at her, both his Vibroknucklers coming from their mag-clamps on his back to adorn his fists, ready to tear her apart.