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

[Valery Noble]

​

In the span of days, the galaxy has begun to unravel in ways few could have predicted. A rare celestial convergence — the alignment of Grek, Firefist, and Rishi — has caused a drastic acceleration in orbital patterns, galactic drift, and hyperlane stability. What was once stable is now chaos. Planets have shifted sectors. Systems that belonged firmly to the Alliance yesterday are now in contested zones — or worse, in Mandalorian space. And the same is true for the Neo-Crusaders. Territories have vanished off the map, realigned, or become unreachable.

The galaxy is moving faster. Hotter. More violently. Some call it a new cosmic era. Others call it galactic climate collapse. Either way, the result is the same: the rules of space have changed.

Now, scattered borders and reeling governments scramble to make sense of the realignment. With every recalibrated navicomputer and redrawn star chart comes tension. Alliances are strained. Enemies are thrown into sudden proximity. And questions rise from every corner:

Who will claim the worlds left adrift?

Amid the uncertainty, two powers — the Galactic Alliance and the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders — are brought face-to-face by circumstance. What follows may reshape more than just the stars.

Objective I — Siege of Taris
(PvP/PvE)​

Once a proud hold of the Galactic Alliance, the ancient world of Taris now finds itself stranded deep behind Mandalorian lines — a relic of the realignment, torn from its rightful place and flung into contested space.

As the Neo-Crusaders move in to claim what the galaxy’s shifting tides have delivered, thousands of Alliance citizens — diplomats, soldiers, civilians, and Jedi — are caught behind enemy lines. With hyperlanes unstable and emergency channels jammed, the Alliance scrambles a desperate mission to extract its people before Mandalorian boots hit the ground.

GA Objectives:

• Evacuate stranded Alliance personnel and civilians from Taris.
• Hold off Mandalorian forces long enough for shuttles to escape.
• Ensure sensitive intel or tech doesn’t fall into enemy hands.

Mando Objectives:

• Establish control over strategic zones of Taris, including spaceports and infrastructure.
• Capture or recruit locals and settlers sympathetic to Mandalorian ideals.
• Intercept fleeing Alliance personnel or Jedi for interrogation or leverage, or to take them out.

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

Once a world under Mandalorian influence, Cathar now finds itself flung beyond their territory — and for the Cathar people, it feels like a long-awaited breath of freedom. They reached out to the Galactic Alliance, hoping for protection, humanitarian aid, and a new beginning among the stars. The Alliance responded — not with warships, but with medics, diplomats, and Jedi.

But the Mandalorians saw this as defection.

Before relief efforts could finish landing, fire fell from the sky. Neo-Crusader warriors — loyal to their cause and furious at the loss — descended upon villages and city-centers alike. What began as a peaceful outreach has become a massacre.

Now, Alliance forces must scramble to evacuate survivors, defend key zones, and hold the line against a brutal assault. Jedi lead extraction teams and create safe corridors while soldiers and peacekeepers fight to protect aid workers and holdouts. There’s no room for diplomacy here — only survival.

Objective III​

With tensions escalating across the region and civilians caught in the crossfire, cooler heads within the Galactic Alliance have pushed for a pause — a chance to breathe before the galaxy plunges into deeper conflict.

A diplomatic meeting has been proposed between Alliance envoys and Mandalorian representatives. The goal? Negotiate a temporary ceasefire, to allow aid and evacuations to continue without bloodshed, and to give each government time to assess the fallout of the galactic shift.

But the atmosphere is tense.

Every word carries the weight of the dead on Taris. Of the flames still burning on Cathar. The Mandalorians see the Alliance’s presence as interference. The Alliance sees the Mandalorians’ actions as brutal overreach.

What will they decide?

 

[Valery Noble]

​

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

The transport shook as it pierced the lower atmosphere, flames licking at the sides from re-entry. Below, the lush golden plains of Cathar burned. Smoke curled into the heavens like dark fingers clawing toward the stars, and the sky — once serene — was thick with the roar of gunships and screaming engines.

Inside the hold, Valery stood braced against the bulkhead, her jumpsuit already scorched at the hem, boots dirt-streaked from the last evac zone she'd fought her way through. Her lightsaber hung silent at her belt, but the tension in her body spoke volumes — coiled, ready. Listening.

The moment the ramp dropped, the Force surged through her like wildfire.

Blasterfire ripped through the village below. Cathar civilians ran in every direction, their cries drowned beneath the thunder of boots — Mandalorian warbands had pushed through the barricades. Valery moved before the ramp touched earth.

She dropped into the chaos with a controlled descent, the Force catching her fall just enough to land in a crouch amid the dust and debris. A Mandalorian enforcer turned, rifle rising — too slow. Her violet blade hissed to life, intercepting the bolt midair before slashing upward in a single, precise arc.

She didn't stop.

"This corridor's clear!" she called, voice sharp over the commlink. "Get those transports in now!" A Mandalorian flametrooper rounded the corner, ready to torch the evac point. Valery turned toward him with fire in her eyes — not the kind that destroyed, but the kind that burned for others. Her hand shot forward. The Force slammed into him like a cannon blast, sending him crashing through a stone column with a thunderous crack.

She exhaled, steady again, as evac shuttles began their descent overhead. Valery stood tall amid the smoke and ash, lightsaber humming at her side.

This was Cathar now.

And she would not let it fall.

Brent Warnel ​

 

[Vreegan Fett]

Open

Following the Galactic Singularity, more rational members of the war council contended that a temporary truce with the Galactic Alliance would offer essential operational respite to their disorganized forces. Vreegan, however, viewed this opportunity not as a diplomatic gesture but as a means to consolidate resources and reassess broader strategic objectives in light of the emergence of other creditable threats such as the Eleventh Sith Empire.

He stood within the dimly lit structure designated for the meeting on the neutral world of Lexrul, an industrial orbital relay station hastily converted for diplomatic proceedings. Its sterile architecture and soulless durasteel interiors reeked of compromise.

His hand remained on the holo-terminal projecting real-time movements of Alliance fleet deployments in nearby sectors, even as the diplomatic room began to populate with auxiliary personnel. The Mandalorian delegation had arrived early a show of discipline and strength. Tactical overlays shifted with the ebb and flow of Alliance humanitarian convoys on the fringes of conflict zones.

"If they bring terms, they'll expect us to kneel." he remarked flatly from beneath his beskar-infused helmet, the voice modulator lending a synthetic edge to his words.

He gestured once, and a pair of Mythosaur Supercommandos took positions at either side of the main entrance. Due to the scarce details regarding the occurrences in the Hapan Cluster before the upheaval, the Alliance would seek to eliminate him if the Alliance's demands were not fulfilled.

The Field Marshal eagerly anticipated such a situation, having long desired to engage in combat with more than words.

 

[Veska Tenau]

Gauntlet Shields | Crushgaunts | Crusader Assault Armor | Beskad & Gravity Hammer| Kal Dagger | Custom Vambraces |

The air on Cathar was thick with smoke and firelight, casting long, flickering shadows across the once-proud city centers now reduced to cracked ferrocrete and twisted durasteel. Tarrak moved through the wreckage with the cold precision of a warrior born for conquest.

His beskar'gam, adorned with golden trim, was coated in ash and marked by the impacts of defiant defenders who had dared to rise against the Alliance. Though they fought valiantly, their courage was of little consequence when faced with the discipline and ferocity of the Neo-Crusaders. His beskad and gravity hammer still emitted a faint glow from the recent battle, crackling softly with residual energy as he passed a collapsed civic hall.

The Cathar had sought assistance, hoping for protection under the banners of the Galactic Alliance. They believed that peace could be brokered, that relief teams and Jedi mediators would shield them from vengeance. To Tarrak, this was a sign of weakness as he halted on a crumbled balcony, surveying the burning starport of the city. Basilisk war droids darted through the smoke-filled skies, unleashing precise salvos to dismantle fortified positions.

Below, Mandalorian warbands advanced with relentless efficiency. Tarrak's voice crackled over the comms:

"Secure the landing pads. If it flies, shoot it down. No survivors beyond the perimeter."

His purpose was not diplomacy but cold-hard vengeance. Each confrontation on Cathar served as a reminder that the Mandalorians neither forget nor forgive. Those who had once knelt and then turned away would be made examples of, their fate inscribed in history with fire and fury.

​

 

[Gym Halpern]

LOCATION: Taris Obj I
TAG: OPEN.

Objective I — Siege of Taris
(PvP/PvE)​

In a snap of light, the ANS Indomitable dropped out of hyperspace over Taris. The heavens were a virtual “hell”. Ships engaging each other, Blockade runners trying to make their way down to the planet as fighters and blaster fire littered the skies.

It was a MESS.

“CONN-SENSORS! We’re being ordered to hold position.”

By who?

“Fleet Captain Mragor.” A Trandoshan Officer that was his subordinate in the 5th. The Sentient was more ambitious than he was capable, but orders were orders… and opportunities were opportunities.”

Helm, take us to coordinates 376 by 814 and take us into the atmosphere.

Commander Billut then looked at him like he had three heads. “Sir, we’re under orders…”

... and Alliance personnel are in danger. No one here is required to follow my orders as I am not following his, however I intend to get as many Alliance personnel off planet as this ship will hold. He was disobeying a direct order, but it was for the greater good, it was what Admiral Angellus would have done.

Halpern looked around. Anyone who does not wish to follow my orders can leave, I’m serious. You will not be held accountable as they are my orders, and there will be no shame if you leave. Not one person left, in fact the ship was maneuvering, as weapons fire was being returned at an attacking corvette.

“CONN-HELM, entering upper atmosphere in 3…2…1…” The viewports lit up with the heat of the change in atmosphere. The Star Destroyer’s launch bay doors were opening.

Once we are in position, launch everything but the shuttles. We’ll do them once we have fighter cover. They would not fail.

 

[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]

Weapons Check!

The Raven Dropship was entering the system, right behind what looked to be the ANS “Indomitable”. The Annunaki Mk III was sitting outside the system, having just launched the dropship, but ready for pickup. The team was inside, loading up on powercells, grenades, and slugs. Today’s loadout for the team was a little different. They were carrying scatterguns and Heavy Defenders because they were facing Mandalorians, and even their guns would not necessarily penetrate, so “go heavy”. The team was preparing for a tough fight, knowing that Mandalorians were some of the toughest warriors in the galaxy. Their weapons were loaded, and they were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The dropship sped towards its destination, the team silent and focused.

Even Connel was “strapped”; on top of his normal gear, the Shadow was carrying a weapon he did normally use, his “LightCarbine”, it was not a lethal weapon, but that was the point. It could slow them down.
Listen up for brief! They all knew what they were getting into, but a reminder was always good.

Mandos are setting the galaxy on fire just to watch it burn. Let’s do that to their stuff… Azrael… you set?

Boom, baby! I got enough explosives to blow up anything they make into a landing zone!

Is that what we’re doing?

We’re blowing… “stuff” up so that others can get Alliance sentients to safety.

Not sure I like being a distraction, but…

We’re doing our job so that they can do theirs. We have the job because of who we are, because of what we can do. Right, Vanagor?

My father… you know who he is… he watched them burn Kashyyyk. I’m not gonna watch it happen to Cathar if I can help it… Flipping the latch on his weapon before slinging it. ... and I intend to… what about you?

OOORAH! All in unison.

Jeremiel, the “jumpmaster” was watching as the ramp lowered, and the rush of air blew into the cargo bay. Green Light in 3… 2… JUMP JUMP JUMP! The Raven is a stealth ship, so most sensors did not pick her up, but it didn’t matter if they did. The team jumped out already and were falling to the planet. As the dropship screamed into the atmosphere and jumped to lightspeed out of the system once safe to do so, Omega Squad were activating their jump packs and reaching terrafirma.

They were on the ground.

[We’re on the ground. Call if you need us, but we’re gonna wreck their landing zones.]

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

 

[Rann Thress]

Objective I — Siege of Taris​

EQUIPMENT: Jealousy and Desire.
TAGS: Vera Noble Gym Halpern

The energy inside the hangar bay was electric, with hundreds of souls scurrying about as they prepared for combat. It wasn’t too long ago the general order to brace for entering the atmosphere screamed out across the ships comms and not too long after the order to launch all fighters. Everyone in the hangar still, all of the soldiers and accompanying Jedi detachment, knew what was inevitably coming next: Launch Transports.

Teams of Alliance personnel carried equipment into their dropships, some prepared themselves mentally, others were pacing nervously back and forth.

Rann however, was spending his time speaking to someone in particular.

“Vera. I need you to promise me,” he said, his hands clasped together, “you’ll do what I say, yeah?” The memory of Valery telling Rann what kind of a child Vera was played again and again in his mind like the suspenseful scene in a horror-vid. Of all the Nobles to be placed in charge of, he thought to himself. He was still a little annoyed the teenager was as tall as he was.

“We’re going down, we’re runnin’ defense. Yeah? Repeat it. Defense. No runnin’ off, finding loads of Mandalorians and bashin’ ‘em. Believe me I get it. I like scrapping Mandalorians as much as the next person,” he stopped as he looked off to the side in begrudging acknowledgement, “probably more than the next person…” he continued before he forced himself to stop, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking the thoughts of conflict out, “Whatever, anyway,” he focused back on Vera, “You’re with me today, you’re sticking to me like glue, alright? Else your mom and probably your dad are gonna kill me. And we like me alive,” he finished, nodding to emphasize his point.

The motion in the hangar got more frantic as the pilots of the dropships began to warm up their ships and the Alliance squads began filing in to their specific transports. Rann wasn’t worried, their transport would wait and they wouldn’t have to fight anyone for seats. This right now was more important, he thought, as he made a fist with a hand and slammed it down lightly into the other repeatedly.

“We go down, we stick with the our friends, we save people. No rambunctious attitudes or general tomfoolery. Yes? We’re agreed?” He nodded repeatedly, a desperate smile on his face, “Please say we’re agreed.”

 

[Jonyna Si]

Ran Dom Kuun, Cathar​

TAG: Face Me, Crusaders

The Denik had done what they had done generations ago. Fled into the jungle. Deep in the roots, far from prying eyes.

Save for one.

One woman, stood on the edge of her home, under torrential rain like none before. The tree normally towered over the edge of the rainforest, poking it's branches high above the clouds. Instead, today, it was shrouded by an impossible storm, reaching high into the atmosphere.

An on it, one woman sat upon a landing pad. Waiting, watching. Her fur dripping with the blood of the fallen. Not of her people, but those slain. She had lost count now.

Once more she cleaned her blade. Across the planet, Liko'wem were being attacked. Being burned. Not this one. Not for lack of trying, but anytime something of Mandalorian colors got close, it was struck down. First by golden lightning, then by a beast, a tigress on the hunt. She moved like a blur, a slice through the storm. A blade that cut through metal like tissues paper, and washed it away with the winds of change.

And once more, she waited. Waited for another so called crusader, with the stones to try.

 

[Shan]

Tag: Gym Halpern Vera Noble Rann Thress
Objective: Don't Become A Great Ball of Fire - Objective 1 Taris
Shan's small moments of peace couldn't last long but it was what he needed. He was ready to head straight back to work as he checked over his equipment. It had been a while since he flown an interceptor considering his last one had went down over Keshi. Strange how the next time he got into one was because of the Mandalorians again. Once everything was secure, Shan looked up from his gear, giving a small little grin at the sight of the stranger who was thrust into working with Vera.

"Don't worry. If Vera gets away from you, it won't just be Kahlil and Valery you have to worry about. I'll hunt you down myself. At least I'll be gentle."

A cheeky smile crossed his face at that. Shan was mostly a pacifist so he was joking about hunting anyone down...Mostly. Vera was still family like him, and considering he wasn't holding back when it came to hurting people anymore...At least it meant he could do his job of protecting people better, he wouldn't need to hesitate down on Taris.

"Might see you guys down there. Going to head down to the streets myself to clear a path for people to escape through I'll make sure to leave some for you guys though. Can't rescue everyone myself."

It was the best of both worlds for Shan. He wanted to be on the frontlines more, but he wasn't much of a fighter. This way, he could stick to evacuating people, potentially healing them if they need it, whilst also protecting them. For now, he hopped into his interceptor and prepared to make a beeline straight for Taris' surface.

 

[Azurine Varek]

A Light Dimmed, Yet Unbroken

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Lightsaber 1 | Lightsaber 2 | Hook Swords

Probably a bad idea.

It was a horrible idea, in fact. The temple doctors had protested, and Azurine had no doubt they had probably already contacted Master Valery Noble about her current refusal to rest properly by now. Yet, the young Iridonian was restless. Sleep had been sporadic unless under the influence of sedation. She needed something—anything—to keep her mind off of the sterile metal walls that felt like they were closing in on her, the smell of bacta, and the constant look of auras carrying patterns of some form of worry all centered on her. Something to take her mind off of how shadows still moved when she closed her eyes.

So, she snuck out. Not her brightest move, she could admit that later, but it was far better than being trapped within the torment of her own mind.

With the hood of her mother's tan cloak pulled up over her head and a brown mask covering half of her face, Azzie slunk through the edges of one of the less flora-dense jungles on planet Cathar, approaching the wreckage of what was once a large City-Tree where the Mandalorian Crusaders had long since moved on from. The sounds of battle echoed much further from that location, but there was still dust and smoke kicked up in the air. Splintered wood and ash kicked up in many directions, and the remnants of fires licked at the foliage around.

If only for a moment, her movement froze, staring at the sight while her thoughts scattered. The sights, the smells, and the unearthly silence scattered with sounds of pain and cries nearly set her mind into a spiral. Her goal was still clear—smoking through the sharp flares of her amethyst eyes—rescue as many survivors as possible. A daunting task given the size of the fallen wreckage of the tree, but that wasn't going to stop her now as she bolted towards it.

Her gaze scanned for any auras, having to maneuver her way through unstable branches and broken rubble. The great trunks, once alive with the hum of community and the warmth of generations, now lay in splintered ruin, the air thick with smoke and the scent of charred sapwood. Her boots crunched over broken beams and shattered carvings. She kept moving, ears straining for the faintest sound beneath the silence of destruction. Her breath caught when she heard it—a thin, desperate wail barely audible beneath a collapsed section of the outer branch-hall. She moved swift, vaulting debris, her heart pounding and only barely healed muscles burning.

A massive limb had fallen across a hollow in the wreckage, its surface scorched black, smoke curling from beneath. Azzie reached out with the Force, her eyes narrowing with focus. The beam groaned as she began to lift it, her arms straining in tandem with her telekinetic pull. The weight fought her, threatening to collapse further, but with a final cry of effort, she shifted it just enough to slide in. Nestled beneath, shielded by a crumpled mat woven from softroot fibers, were two Cathar kits—one lying motionless save for shallow, ragged breaths, the other crouched over them, eyes wide with fear and tears streaking through soot-covered fur. The older kit hissed, baring tiny fangs and clutching their sibling, their terror sharp through the patterns of their auras.

Azzie crouched low, voice soft and steady, "Hey there, easy now. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help, see?" Her tone cut through the fear like sunlight through smoke while she moved her cloak back to expose the hilts of her lightsabers strapped to her belt like a beacon of hope. Slowly, hesitantly, the child's posture eased. She reached out gently, scooping them both into her arms, cradling them close.

"You're safe now. I've got you."

Aadihr Lidos (?) | Closed to PvP or combat PvE encounters​

 

[Brent Warnel]

Cathar.

Now outside the Mandalorian sphere of influence. The people of Cathar had called out to the Alliance, hoping they would protect them from the Crusade. The Alliance would aid them now, but only in putting out the fires of their broken planet and shipping what remnants they could off-world.

Brent was here to show those who crossed the Crusade the meaning of War. Cathar had been subjugated, but they had been brought under the heel of the Crusade, knowing no other galactic power would be able to push and pull on their Culture or way of life. Pay your dues to the Crusade, embrace the Culture, and you'd be left to grow within the Mandalorian sphere of power.

But now, they chose to cry out. They showed their weakness by calling for the Jedi and asking for help from an outside source. Mandalorians lived and died together, not with the intervention of outsiders. Cathar would find out about this piece of Culture the hard way.

Brent was among the first Vod on the planet as the Crusade attacked. Buildings fell, streets burned, and people cried out for aid, but none had initially come. Until, pinpricks of light appeared in the space above Cathar. The Alliance had come. The jetii had come. Brent met the age-old foes in battle on the planet's surface. Dropships with troops and Jedi trying to evacuate the people of Cathar to safety.

Cowards. They wouldn't even fight for their world; they left it. They were not worthy of the Culture.

He sneered as he cut down the people around him, Alliance personnel and Cathar alike. He had broken through the barricades of a nearby village with his Vod around him, and their push into the village could not be stopped. It would not be stopped.

Brent continued forward, rifle up and blaster bolts lancing out toward his foes, cutting them down. His rifle spoke for him as he advanced through the village, transferring his rage to the cowardly people who crossed his path. As he neared the center of the village, a loud roaring drew his attention upwards. More Alliance dropships descended, intent on saving the Cathar and ending the Mandalorians. Brent smiled under his helmet, welcoming the newcomers to die as those around them were dying. The dropships dipped below village houses, and Brent lost sight of them. He worried not; they would find him soon.

Not long after, as Brent continued his method of teaching the Cathar a lesson, a commanding voice rang out from nearby. Loud, controlling, and powerful. Brent's audio sensors picked it up even over the turmoil of the combat. It was not a voice he knew, so he redirected his movements there, seeking out what he hoped would be a new foe who would resist.

As he rounded the corner of a building to combat this new threat, he saw a Jedi, violet blade in hand, cutting down one of his warriors. Brent saw her standing tall amidst the rubble, a beacon of light amongst the smoke and ash, and knew this was his target. This was no lowly padawan; the presence that exuded from her was too powerful; this was someone higher up, a master, most likely. One he was not familiar with, but wasted no time in engaging.

Rifle against his shoulder, he pulled the trigger, letting out a fully automatic burst. The computer programming inside allowing for steady tracking of the Jedi, making every shot extremely accurate. As he fired, he stalked forward, letting his rifle discharge plasma at the Jedi. He would continue to stalk forward shooting, hoping the Jedi would be foolish enough to engage with him in hand-to-hand, where he could show them who was the better warrior.

Valery Noble

 

[Gym Halpern]

LOCATION: Taris Obj I
TAG: OPEN.

Objective I — Siege of Taris
(PvP/PvE)​

“Exiting the thermosphere… the mesosphere approaching…”

Flight Control… stand by to launch fighters…

“Aye!”

“Exiting the mesosphere… entering the Stratosphere…”

Launch fighters… Tactical… if it is not Taris local, or Galactic Alliance, it’s a target!

“Aye!” Within seconds, the forward viewports were filled with the sights of launching fighters. Soon the skies were lit up with the rescue and defensive flight patterns.The pilots swiftly engaged in combat maneuvers, targeting enemy vessels with precision. Explosions illuminated the battlefield as the fighters clashed in a fierce aerial battle. The Galactic Alliance forces fought valiantly, pushing back the opposing forces and securing the skies above Taris.

Helm, put us in position over the main cluster of civilization, right over the main buildings..

“Aye!”

“CONN-FLIGHT CONTROL… All fighters are in the air!”

Launch all transports. Ensure they are clear to the ground and back.. They would not fail.

 

[Korra Kast]

OBJECTIVE I​

---

The battle for Taris had barely begun, and already, Korra could feel the tension in the air, the familiar hum of her beskad pressing against her back. It was another day in the chaotic grind of war, but something about the mission felt... different. Her boots hit the ground, the faint sounds of distant blaster fire echoing off the once-proud architecture of the Galactic Alliance's old stronghold.


This was once their domain, a beacon of power and authority. Now? It was just another piece of territory being contested between them and Mandalorians. And Korra, was being paid for her services in this battle, since the Neo-Crusaders couldn't convince her with words.


She scanned the war-torn cityscape. There were still pockets of Alliance resistance, scattered across the abandoned spaceports and hidden in the deep labyrinth of urban decay. They were trying to get out. She didn't blame them; who wouldn't want to escape before Mandalorian boots hit the ground?


But that wasn't her problem. Not anymore.


Her problem was their problem: a mission objective that didn't fit neatly in a box. Capture any Alliance intel. Keep the resistance from escaping. And keep the civilians... well, keep them from being a problem for her side. It was a messy task, but the more messy it was, the more room there was to work.


She deactivated her comm for a moment, feeling the stillness in the air — the calm before the storm. The hunt would begin soon.


"Stay sharp," Korra muttered to herself, her fingers brushing against the edge of her helmet. The objective was clear. Capture. Control. Survive. The galaxy was just a playground for those who could conquer it. And right now, Korra Kast was playing for Mandalore.

---

OPEN​

 

[Jackson Lesan]

Wearing: xxx
Tag: Vera Noble | Open

The war room was hot, too hot for comfort, even with the makeshift climate controls humming in protest. Sweat clung to the back of Jackson Lesan’s neck as he stood among officers and Jedi, each one framed in flickering holo-projections of the city’s descent into chaos. Red zones pulsed across Taris’s skyline. The Mandalorians were coming faster than predicted.

"Realignment’s collapsed the main hyperlane. We’ve got one corridor open twenty klicks east of the old Senate Plaza. That’s our extraction route."

Master Tai Vardaan’s voice cut through the static-laden reports and the tension hanging over the room. He was tall, severe, one of those Jedi who wore robes like armor. Jackson stood at attention, trying to look composed even though his heart was hammering in his chest.

"Padawan Lesan," the Master said, eyes locking with his. "You’re going with Shuttle Team Aurek. Civilian clusters are gathering at the Czerka ruins. Get them out, keep them calm. If it turns into a fight, don’t play hero. Prioritize the evac."

Jackson nodded sharply. “Yes, Master.”

He turned to leave, his boots echoing down the corridor as he passed frantic techs and grim-faced soldiers. The moment he was out of sight, he slowed just enough for the weight of it all to settle in his chest.

This was real.

He was no longer subject to drills, simulations, or shadowing Knight detachments on reconstruction missions. This was war, and he hated it already.

The galaxy was burning from the inside out. What kind of Force allowed that?

The realignment, some were calling it a cosmic omen, others said it was just physics finally catching up with the galaxy’s hubris. Either way, it had tossed Taris into the lap of the Mandalorians like a gift. The Neo-Crusaders were seizing planets like war trophies while the Alliance was left holding broken maps and broken promises.

And caught in the middle were innocent people.

He gritted his teeth, stepping into the open air of a makeshift landing pad. The skyline was polluted with black smoke coiling where there had once been markets and gardens. He saw a family huddled near a transport, two kids clutching their mother. That’s who he was here for.

But one name pulled at him harder than the rest.

Vera.

He had been told she had been helping in the medical outposts when the realignment hit. He hadn’t seen her since the first Mandalorian drop pods made landfall two nights ago. He’d tried to ping her through his comm, but the channels were complete chaos.

No confirmation.

No signal.

He closed his eyes briefly, centering himself.

She’s alive, he told himself. She has to be.

“Lesan!” one of the pilots barked. “We’re wheels up in sixty. You coming?”

Jackson nodded and jogged toward the shuttle’s ramp.

As he climbed aboard, he turned one last time to the skyline of Taris. Fires burned. Mandalorian ships were falling through the clouds like steel rain.

“Hold on, Vera. I’m coming.”

And then the shuttle roared to life, lifting into the storm.

 

[Nos Voros]

Objective: Neutralize threats, secure area.
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 rest of Rubrus Actual was spread out across the operation, protecting key individuals and noncombative leaders.

Nos had reserved this duty for himself - the fresh scars adorning his face due to a whistling bird fired by Brent Warnel , his team Leader still in the Bacta tanks thanks to Saverok , and the occasional dreams of the Arachnids he fought in Keshi gave Nos something of a grudge against these Mandalorian crusaders.

The hulking Zeltron in heavy-duty Senate Commando Armor prowled the unsecured sector. He would be an advanced warning for the troopers behind him, scanning the recently blasted buildings for biometric data of survivors or foes and tagging their coordinates for the forces behind him. He swept across each alley below from rooftop to rooftop with his
Combat Blaster trained, itching to get the drop on a Mando'ade for once.

Unfortunately his Armor was heavy - beyond what he could normally operate stealthily in. As he detected a sign of life -armed and armored, he had already given away his position from the whirring of his repulsor-boots.

Nos dropped from the rooftop, landing accompanied by a loud thud and cracking of ferrocrete underfoot.

Through the speaker on his helm, his voice rang out, "Drop your weapons and surrender!"

A formality. No Mandalorian he'd met would comply simply due to principle alone.
Nos stepped closer, blaster raised and tense as a coiled spring towards Korra Kast .

He would never admit it, but this is what he lived for.

Korra Kast​

 

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Objective II
Defend the Cathar!​

She was going retunr to Alliance space in order to reenlist but then the universe decided to throw a wretch at everyone and everything. At this rate Minerva wouldn't be surprised if somehow Papaltine returned to see how things are going in the stars. But that wasn't on her mind.

It was the madness happening on Cathar.

Flying over the skies of the planet onboard her gunship Minerva shook her head in disgust. The Crusaders' answer to everything is slaughter, slaughter and more slaughter, no matter the consequences. Now in Cathar they revel in reenacting one of their predecessors' most infamous sins and it's for the second time! She squeezed the flight controls tightly with ever mounting fury.

Fury born from the first sacking of Kashyyyk years ago.

Before she officially rejoins the GADF Minerva fully intended to fight the Crusaders this day only as a Mandalorian. Alone if need be.

Self-worshiping, child murdering scum! Those were the thoughts of Minerva, looking through the video screen within her cockpit, observing the chaos below.

High above the clouds she guided her vessel, preparing what she must do. Beneath the helm were eyes and lips quivering in absolute hatred. Only when seeing Cathar refugees running for cover from the onslaught and the Jedi and Alliance rushing in.

They need help.

Only at that sight did she calm down enough to speak to her ship's AI.

"Tyatr take the helm and open the ramp in five minutes. I'll mark targets for you on the ground."

"Acknowledged Minerva, good hunting."

Saying nothing else she got up for the pilot's seat and marched out of the cockpit. Making a quick stop at the armory she readied her weapons. Once done she rushed over to the ramp just as it opened.

Wind blew and howled. Without missing a beat Minerva dives out of the ship. Skydiving through a cloud she sped through the air, rapidly the ground as if an artillery shell. Within a minute she finally activated the jetpack, its engines roaring to life. Increasing speed Minerva locked on a mass of Crusader infantry groundside at the rear behind the central frontline and transmitted the coordinates via comm channel.

Targets received, starting my attack run. Tyatr declared through the commlink.

As that occurred Minerva drew her particle rifle and opened fire, targeting a flying crusader's jetpack. It exploded and sent the warrior falling and screaming to his death. A second one evaded her shots and returned fire with a repeater. Dashing out of the way to the side Minerva shot again and missed as before with her foe speeding her way with further blaster bolts. She took evasive action from the opposite side and let loose another burst of particle rounds.

This time she struck true dead center and the crusader collapsed lifeless as a brick. Diving down once more Minerva soon readied her jetpack missile locking on a crusader mortar crew. The missile came out in a whoosh and within moments slammed into the position, killing the two warriors manning it.

As soon as that happened Minerva landed in a roll onto the battlefield.

Simultaneously her gunship unleashed a salvo of discord missiles toward the reserve force who scattered for cover upon detecting the incoming projectiles. Nonetheless several were killed or wounded as the ground shook. The ship followed up with a quick strafing run toward a group of survivors before flying off to await further orders.

Standing on both feet Minerva turned to the right yards seeing Valery Noble taking the lead as usual. She nodded in her direction before jetpacking toward her position, she gunned down two more crusaders as they tried to outmaneuver the grandmaster in the air. Landing beside the latter, reloading the rifle and remarked as she aimed for the target and fired.

"Here to assist Noble. Tell me where ya need me to go."

Minerva reloaded, awaiting the Jedi's answer.

Tag: Valery Noble

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Field Attire, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike | Slugthrower Rifle

Aadihr had trailed behind Azzie, even sneaking onto her ship, watching her movements through the force.

No way was he going to keep his mind's eye off of her, not when they've only just got her back. Even recouperating, Azzie was fast and had immediately rushed off to rescue a pair of cathar children.

After everything, her heart was still warm.

Aadihr jostled himself back to attention, instead searching for sighs of life through the force, cutting and freeing an elderly Cathar from within a fallen limb-dwelling. Aadihr took this opportunity to practice in the field a way to help.

He lacked strength in the Force but had great precision, this he had learned time and again - but when operating on the scale of airborne molecules, that difference seemed to matter less. In fact, his unnatural talent for perception, adjusting his anchor for his Sight, allowed him to firsthand see such small molecules, viewing as if he were the same size, to analyze and manipulate. He experimented with means to alter the environment - containing flames by depriving oxygen with a semi-permeable bubble, guiding smoke away from survivor's escape with cold gusts of wind brought on with simple stilling of molecular vibrations.

Moving large amounts of air still proved difficult, but in particular stilling the micro-vibrations that was heat came much easier. Perhaps it was the practice steadying his the barrel of his rifle for aim, or perhaps the way he consolidated the force to deflect bolts of plasma like a prodigy, but manipulating through colder temperature served as a sufficient workaround. He could cause a breeze by creating an area of low pressure simple by chilling the air molecules, holding them steady. He could make wooden walls brittle with this same principle - which he did so to poke through with his unlit pike to make an exit for survivors trapped within.

He held the molecules steady, held them together - much like he had learned to hold himself together, despite the burn and the bond to Azzie during her torture. It was control of the smallest level, and it opened a whole new avenue of capability - one that he would have to experiment and practice with.

Eventually, enough Cathar were in safe enough condition that Aadihr could finally catch up to Azzie, quickly mending any wounda she might have re-opened.

"You just can't help but be a hero, can't you?" Aadihr said, placing a hand upon her shoulder, stifling a grin.

Seeing her aura like this, helping others once again - it was everything he wanted in the galaxy.

Azurine Varek | OPEN​

 

[Korra Kast]

The voice crackled through the dust and smoke, and Korra turned her head slowly, the T-shaped visor of her helmet glinting faintly in the scorched light. She scanned the individual and got a basic readout of his armor, noting it was heavy gear. Korra tilted her head slightly, her voice calm and unbothered through her helmet's vocoder. "Cute."

She didn't raise her blasters, not yet, keeping them holstered for now. But the tension was there, simmering beneath the surface like heat under beskar. Her stance was relaxed, but there was no mistaking the readiness in her frame—the way her fingers flexed at her side.

"What would you do if I don't, Big Boy?" Korra was goading him. Clearly teasing him for his choice of big heavy armor.

Nos Voros

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Allies: Korra Kast
Adversaries: Gym Halpern | Rann Thress | Vera Noble | Shan | Nos Voros
Engaging: None, yet.
“‘It’s not about who’s right. It’s about who’s left.’”
—Mandalore the Preserver

Taris was in their sights anew. The cosmos had flung it from the Alliance’s grip, directly into Mandalorian Space. Carduul would not ignore what the stars themselves had delivered into his path.

This was not a conquest.
This was a reclamation.

An inevitability. With each day, the Alliance dared to move closer and closer to Mandalorian Space. He knew why. They sought to subjugate the Mandalorian people at the source. To whisper sweet lies in slothful ears, to take control their way. Sack those who’d stand for their history, and bring in the ones too infatuated with the lofty concept of peace to protest. Carduul had seen what occurred to other planets of the Alliance.

He would not allow Mandalorian space to rot beneath the boot of Republic idealism. Not without a fight.

The Alliance. The Sith. The Mandalorians. Every other dissident faction; all the same. Each claimed a truth—but they all thirsted for the same thing; dominion. None would ever stop their conquests, because that would be losing. Because the other side could not be allowed to win. Samsara of cut sinew and crushed bone, unceasing. Always seeking to put a stop to the wheel they turned. He, for the hope to reforge it in Beskar.

The communique had rung out across each ship in the fleet;

“We strike, now.”

---

It was as if the sky had cracked open.

Mandalorian drop-ships burst through the upper atmosphere like warheads, the roar of retro-thrusters and sonic booms heralding their arrival long before the city’s underprepared defenders could raise their rifles. Thunder rolled across the skyline, not from storms—but from the descent of countless warriors. Field Marshals splayed across several fronts, an intricate web of tactical movements that underlie each battle.

From the lead ship, he had stepped forward as the loading ramp lowered. Cape flaring in the violently whipping wind, a poleaxe in hand. A title that transcended generations. That would persist long after him. Ancient. Inevitable.

Mand’alor.

He dropped from the ramp like a hammer, and dozens followed in his wake. Jetpacks roared, dropships streaking down from sky in tandem. Streets shook as the first wave of Neo-Crusaders had touched down, conflict erupting from the higher layers of Taris and descending to every crevice. Loading ramps lowered to deliver droves of fresh soldiers. Metal boots marched through debris and resistance, searching for Jedi, Command Staff, anything they could capture. Or erase.

From above, Mandalorian gunships strafed the broken skyline, clearing rooftops and drawing fire from the defenders entrenched near the spaceport.

Carduul moved at the front where he belonged, poleaxe in hand, cutting through entrenched troopers with cold, efficient brutality. Warriors rallied to his push towards the next entrenched position the Alliance had desperately created. Blood sprayed fresh unto his weapon and armor, a veritable storm upon the battlefield.

Every drop of blood spilled would purchase their future.

 

[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.

"What would you do if I don't, Big Boy?"

"Something you won't like," Nos replied, flicking the safety off of the Underbarrel Grenade Launcher mounted to the blaster he kept trained at the woman.

"Actually, maybe you would, who knows with you Mandos."

There was no way Nos could fire before her if she quickdrew, but his armor was well worth the weight. Even in a situation like this, he had to follow rules of engagement - ever since the bloodshed in the throne room of Hapes, even if he killed those women in defense of the chancellor, he had to represent a higher standard. Not only for the integrity of the Alliance and the Senate, but for Lady Sylvia Organa — to hold up to her level of integrity, despite his tendencies.

So Nos would forgo the first shot - the 40mm EMP grenade in his barrel would be a more than sufficient retort if Korra Kast fired first.

The sounds of the Mandalorian dropships and the front lines drew closer. The battle had started in full. This street would be an ideal pathway for flanking with ground ordinance — for either side.

What was a whim was now a valual point of dominance; the victor singlehandedly securing an advantage for their side.

Nos barely had time for the significance to set in before hehad to act.

Korra Kast​