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Carth: "I'm not a warrior. I'm a soldier. There's a difference. Warriors attack and conquer. They – they prey on the weak. Soldiers defend and protect the innocent – mostly from warriors." Canderous: "Nice speech. I bet you tell yourself that every night so you can sleep. But I am accept who and what I am. I don't have to justify it with words. Victory in battle is my justification."
―Canderous Ordo and Carth Onasi
The shadow of Neo-Crusader domination stretches across the planet, but in that darkness, a spark of rebellion has been ignited.
Weeks of reconnaissance led by Careena Fett
and Trajan Fett
have pinpointed Manaan's vital military installations. With precision and coordination, The Operator
and Livia Cadera
, among other Mandalorian infiltartors,, strike swiftly, disabling comm relays in the system and seizing control of the orbital defense platforms. As the Mandalorian Neo-Crusader fleet arrives in-system, the platforms turn against the planet's own defenders.
From the chaos in the skies, Gaanla Munin
and Sig Dryggo
spearhead a daring high-orbit, low-drop assault on the key installations, seizing them with brutal efficiency. With Ahto City and Manaan's skies under Mandalorian control, the blockade tightens, choking off the flow of kolto—one of the galaxy's most valuable medical resource. The Neo-Crusaders ferry the precious substance off-world for their own needs and much like the raid on Contruum - they seek to gauge the Alliance's response.
But where there is shadow, there is also light. From the depths of despair under the toils of servitude to the Mandalorians, a resistance has emerged. A bold smuggler, defying the odds, breaks through the blockade and sends a distress signal to nearby systems and beyond—a call to help with a promised day of rebellion.
Today is that day.
All across Ahto City, the flames of revolt rise. Trapped and outnumbered, the Mandalorians face a fierce uprising. The clock is ticking, and their only hope is to break through the encirclement and escape Manaan before the resistance overwhelms them.
Ahto City is a burning cauldron of conflict. Mandalorians, severely outnumbered, must execute a strategic withdrawal before the resistance cuts off the Neo-Crusaders' escape routes and encircles them. A savage battle unfolds through the city's once-pristine streets, its gutters now brimming with blood, sweat and glory.
Above Manaan, reinforcements have arrived in response to the distress signal. They seek to punch through the Mandalorian blockade, while the Crusaders fleet must fight tooth and nail to stave off their advance until their fellow brothers and sisters on the ground withdraw to space.
TAGS: OPEN IF I HAD A HEART
"Buy'ce olar, kar'ta ogir. (Helmet on, heart gone)."
—(rough translation) Mandalorian proverb
Mandalorian Neo-Crusader Fleet
Bridge of the Keldabe battleship Stormbringer Manaan Orbit
The tactical hologrid lit up with dozens of red triangles indicating enemy vessels reverting into realspace in the system as the targeting package from the support frigates filled the readout.
“So, finally they react to Manaan’s comm blackout.” said a voice from behind him, their steps clanging on the deck floor as they drew nearer.
Ormbyr Rook. An old friend. A zealous follower of the Gods much like the rest of his clan. Perhaps even more knocked in the head than the average Rook clansman.
And the finest shipwright Hakon knew. Second only to the Skiratas and Kyrdols. He appeased Kad Harangir through his craftsmanship and now he finally had the chance to him through the blood of his enemies.
Tasked with overseeing the refit of the vessels seized from the Contruum raid, Orm was now also drafted as an aide de-camp to Hakon’s command of the Mandalorian fleet against Manaan.
“Too early.” Hakon curtly shook his head. “Someone’s managed to send a message.”
“With no comm relays intact? No chance. We’ve ran the systems scared since Contruum—they’re just on their toes.”
“No. Someone must've ran the blockade.” Hakon corrected. “This no scouting party, Orm. This is an attack force. One coordinated with the rebels below.”
“Bold of them.”
“Sloppy of us.”
Hakon shifted his gaze to the comms officer. “Order the blockade to face the incoming enemy ships. Keep the shape and move closer to the orbital defense platforms but not beyond. The aruetii need to come to us. Let them bleed for it.”
“Understood.” the comm officer nodded and relayed the order to the rest of the blockade fleet.
With a loud whine of the starboard thrusters—a clear sign of the unfinished refits on the Stormbringer—the Keldabe battleship began banking to face the enemy and slowly drift closer to the orbital defense platforms.
Sig was in a single-man starfighter, one he had stolen prior knowing he would only be using it for a single purpose today: reach the surface. Surface in this case meant the only above-water structure on the entire planet of Manaan. It was his first time ever travelling to such an environment. It didn't matter to him: all that mattered was a fight and the glory of victory or death in pursuit of it.
Such was the way of the true Mandalorians, as Sig himself would prove today again on the field. His small fighter hung in the upper atmosphere, Sig glancing out the window at the burning city below. <"This is Dryggo,"> he announced over the open-comm, <"Moving to assist."> His starfighter took almost a nose dive, as he began speeding down through the air towards the city below. He was originally tasked with assaulting from above, targeting key positions that would allow the 'ground' forces to better do their job. Though it was clear they were outnumbered, and with the arrival of a response fleet, it was only a matter of time before they'd be cut off completely from the fleet.
It was time to act.
He pulled his fighter up, it gliding above the water and fast approaching the city before him. As he neared his targeting computer picked up several anti-air cannons that had been set up in hopes of stopping any more of their troops from landing or leaving. Smirking under his t-visor, he pressed forward and got as close as he could before finally hitting the eject button. Launching into the sky, his jetpack activated, the starfighter slamming into and destroying the anti-air cannons.
He quickly landed and assessed his surroundings. He was in the eastern section of the city among various shops and residential buildings. Not far from him he could see several of his brothers and sisters engaged with some of the local authorities who were responding to their attempts at glory. He quickly ran over and rolled behind the closest wall before turning to look down the alleyway; at the end was a manned sentry gun that was laying down suppressing fire. Behind it was half a dozen other men, readying to advance while the gunner kept the Mandalorians at bay. Sig readied his pistols with a grin, "Kote cuyir Pal'vut!"
Turning the corner slightly, he started firing in the direction of their foes. The few others around him quickly joined in. Sig had been briefed on the city and knew the best evac point would likely be the city-center: exactly where the direction they were now pushing. Victory or death, he was ready for the impossible fight ahead.
The Sentinel of Harmony had gone a long way to find patience for Mandalorian Culture. But this was pushing it. She did genuinely wonder if they could coexist. If the mandos were better off scattered to the wind.
It wasn't a very jedi thought, but she couldn't help but ponder such things. Their culture praised all the things she called evil. All the things she told her padawans, her son and daughter, to not do.
Vengeance. Glory. Brutality.
As she flew into the Manaanian atmosphere, she weighed on this heavily.
Still. She had a job to do. And today, she had a friend. A man she hoped would be by her side much more come the future.
"Tiger One to Perris, checking in. Hyperspace was a breeze, how you feelin'?"
Mandalorians. They were a crude, backward, war-loving people with a history for getting kicked in the teeth. She had felt bad for them when the Sith Empire mutilated their planet and enslaved their people, but since their emancipation, they had only caused problems for the Galaxy. They were discord made metal, and their constant wish to regain their place in the Galaxy, be it the Mandalorian Golden Age of recent times or the Crusades, had only soured their reputation as a people. Though apparently her king was housing a group of them on her homeworld. That made her nervous.
But oppressed or not, the Mandalorians were testing them. It seemed the only ones who saw that were the Jedi. Galvanized by Valery Noble's broadcast, she took a portion of her command and absconded to the Manaan system, ferrying the Jedi in her bays.
The ANS Gallant Triumph dropped out of hyperspace, the Mandalorian blockade looming before her. She narrowed her eyes, trying to find the chink in their armor, but they were still too far for that. Instead, she turned to the tactical display hanging above her command chair and watched as her ad hock task force engaged the blockade and defense platforms.
There was no ceremony, there was no real strategy. They were very nearly at brawling range and it showed in the desperate turbolaser exchanges between her fleet and the defense platforms, the biggest threats to her forces.
"Where's a Starhawk when you need one?" Rear Admiral Andien Gale muttered under her breath.
"Likely back at Corellia where we left it Ma'am." Right. That admiral had quite the fit when they'd seen her hyperdrives powering up. Had nearly dragged her away with its tractor beams. She smiled a thin-lipped smile.
"Yes, well, we could use it now. These platforms are quite stubborn."
Cobalt Squadron flew through the stars, their strike bombers screaming towards the enemy. Jax looked down at his instruments. Laser flak burst around him as he and his squadron flew towards the defense platforms, the light nearly blinding even through his dimmed canopy. Where was their support?
"Cobalt 3, I've got something on my tail. Computer can't see what- AHHH!! Its on top of me! Its got...Claws? Wha-" Cobalt 3 blinked out at the same time as a briliant explosion flashed behind him. Claws? Where was their escort? His astromech screeched, panicked text scrolling across his interface board. What was-
A shadow loomed over him. Were those eyes? There was a flash and he was gone.
The rest of Cobalt squadron screamed on ahead, their proton bombs launching prematurely, careening down towards the hull of the platform but off the mark of any critical systems or weapons.
"Look at that dinosaur,"Captain Culter muttered and whistled in approval. It looked like it had been pulled right out of a war museum.
"It still has turbolasers sir," his second-in-command reminded him.
"But look at it move. It looks slower than a jamel on Dagobah." A turbolaswer flashed against their forward shields, lighting up the self-dimming viewports. Culter whistled again. "By the Force, these barbarians do have some teeth, don't they?" An idea came to him. He smirked. "Full speed ahead, helm."
This was not what she was expecting. Brooke had made her way to Manaan on other duties, on her witch duties. Bringing Blue Corals to another ocean world. Meeting with the Selkath, and working on learning some of their healing abilities, through kolto. She’d run across a few Selkath, and the Force powers they used? Very similar to the magick of her clan. But not in the same vein of focus. Order of Shasa had a lot of interesting oceanic heritage, and that was close to her own path.
Still, why were the Mandalorians here? So far from the Protector’s umbrella.
Watching from the shadows, she was listening. Right now she was a bounty hunter known by the callsign Siren. She would strike when needed. She’d already blown the door off of one locked room to help some Selkath through, and didn’t even pull out her lightsaber to do it. With the chaos, she was striking at some of the Mandalorians that were going after the locals, but the ones going after Alliance soldiers?
Well, they were soldiers.
And honestly, she wasn’t sure she truly injured any of the Mandalorians too much. Her lance was great for tripping them up, mixed in with a bit of waveform, or a lash of water through the Force, and a very witchy teleport away? She was hoping to just slow things down to help the locals.
TAGS: Sig Dryggo
, Jonyna Si
, Rik Perris
"Tion ke'gyce ner kad al'ijaat? (What guides my sword if not honor?)"
—Ancient Mandalorian Saying
Too long had it been since he could smell the wonderful signs of smoke, ash, and carbon scoring. Heard the sounds of glorious combat. Raided and fought for a purpose.
He was experienced in managing this sort of affair. Long had he conjectured how he would do it if the crusades were re-ignited, and finally he was here. Though they were far from any true crusading; that was their reason for being on this planet. Carduul had been tasked with helping oversee the extraction operations on the ground, namely the siphoning of valuable Kolto offworld to deserving warriors. Some may call it piracy, but when it was put to the purpose he aimed to sustain, it was simply a better usage of resources. Rebellion was only a matter of time, and his forces were prepared to put it down with surgical precision. Alas, if only they had more numbers, perhaps they could’ve suppressed it for longer - but one does not kill an idea so easily. Instead, they had to resort to more desperate measures.
SHHHK! Crimson spilled upon the bladed side of his hafted weapon, tearing out from a body as blaster fire rang out around him in a haze of battle. His own heavy pistol held in a hand, trigger indented upon again and again to suppress the numerous foes afore him. “Maintain formation!” The Rally Master urged those surrounding him, raising his blood-stained poleaxe high in a point forth; “Forward! Par kyr'am bal kote!”
His group of blue-clad Neo-Crusaders were carting one of the last remaining shipments of Kolto they managed to take with them, just as the rioting erupted into all-out combat. The warriors surrounding him were galvanized for it - there were worries doing little more than remaining in a boring guard post. At least now there was a chance of earning proper glory in the thick of battle.
Rounding a corner of the criss-crossing alleys of Ahto City, blaster fire roared to life from an entrenched cannon. Carduul’s head was narrowly pulled back before it was blasted off, the duracrete of the building in front of him cracking. His teeth grit beneath the helmet - they were surrounded on all sides, and no amount of zeal can make up the number difference. They were pinned down, until…
A vaguely familiar Mandalorian, Sig Dryggo
emerged from the opposite corner, beginning to raise hell as he did best. It was a good moment to capitalize on, to galvanize the rest into action - and so he swiftly joined in on the assault.
“Good of you to join us, vod!” Spoken with an jubilant tone, pulling a grenade from his belt, priming it with a click, and hurling it forwards. An explosion rocked the surrounding buildings, dislodging the entrenched position for but a few moments before they collected themselves again.
“We must press on, swiftly! Before we are cut off from the starports!” Urgently shouted to those present, as his steps rushed forwards, blaster blazing - the shipment’s guard crew trailing not far behind. This was only the first of many major roadblocks for this daring escapade.
TAGS: Andien Gale IF I HAD A HEART
"Buy'ce olar, kar'ta ogir. (Helmet on, heart gone)."
—(rough translation) Mandalorian proverb
Mandalorian Neo-Crusader Fleet
Bridge of the Keldabe battleship Stormbringer Manaan Medium Orbit
The deck shuddered as the helmsman brought the Stormbringer to a halt with several bursts of the reverse thrusters. Peering over the viewport, Hakon saw the rest of the fleet slowing down to their designated positions, forming a half-ring shape in the medium orbit of Manaan. Up ahead, in high orbit, the defense platforms loomed, moored in a similar line as the Crusaders' fleet.
"Alliance ships." noted Orm as further sensor data rolled onto the tactical holo display before stepping up beside his friend.
"Good." Hakon said. "It is them we need to learn about the most."
"And test ourselves against." Orm added, a zealous fervor undertone in his voice. "To have an Imperial dagger plunged into the very heart of your nation and fend off the Sith from the South, all the while deploying a force to an unaligned world…"
"Envious, Orm?" Hakon smirked beneath his buy'ce.
"Thrilled. Our forebears have slain the great mythosaurs with spears and hands, and carved their skulls into a trophy that has since become a sigil. The aruetii, like the mythosaurs, will know our strength as they are driven extinct."
"And we'll carry the Starbird on our chest plates then?" Hakon asked, his humor as dry as the surface of Sundari.
"It's too ugly." Orm shook his head and Hakon scoffed in response before he shifted his attention to the comms officer once more.
"Command the corvettes to draw nearer to the defense platforms but have them be prepared to pull back once the heat bears on them." Hakon ordered as he saw the tiny dots of fighters streak across the tactical holodisplay. The platforms would need all the screening support they could get, even if it meant the corvettes pushing closer to the Alliance capital ships' effective firing range. "And get our fighters out to support them."
Flashes of green and red showered the vast expanse of space as the Mandalorian and Alliance fleets had begun their exchange of long-range fire.
From the hangar bays of several ships, basilisk war droids, gunships and fighters began to drop out and streak past the moving corvettes to support them in their screening activities. Far less than their maximum compartment capacities, far less than Hako would've liked. But such was their reality — their movement was still growing.
Orbital Defense Grid
Command deck of XQ Platform One
Manaan High Orbit
Old bones creaked beneath the armor in synchrony with the XQ platform's laser cannons trailing the trajectory of the incoming enemy bombers as Haddur Kryze clasped his hands behind his back.
The vigor of life had returned to every cell of his body. A veteran of Mand'alor the Wrathful's crusades against the Core Worlds, he and his ilk had since withered away to obscurity as the Mandalorian society shifted to the 'new' ways. Most, if not all, he had formed a close camaraderie had perished in honorless jobs as mercs, hunters or guns for hire.
But now, after years of decadence, the younger generation of Mandalorians slowly began to awake from their slumber. Their spirits had shrieked against the blades they had dulled in service to aruetii. They sought to be remembered, to die a valiant death rather than perish from the annals of history in dishonorable servitude to outsiders.
Until his very last breath, Haddur would aid this nascent movement, these so-called Neo-Crusaders. Even if it was a commander of the orbital defense grid over Manaan rather than in the direct flames of battle.
With what little remained of his flame, he vowed to light the enemy ablaze.
"Incoming bombers, buir.Numerous contacts." a voice from the scanner pit called out.
"I can see that."
"Enemy ordnance deployed! Collision imminent!"
"I can see that, too, damn it!" Haddur growled as he watched on the tactical holodisplay the countdown tick down the inevitable proton bomb impact. He didn't need every single thing communicated to him, only what he might miss. These young kids have spent too damn much time with the aruetii.
Five seconds before the clock ticked down, the whole platform shook and rattled as proton torpedoes struck its dorsal side.
"Brace!"
Haddur cursed under his breath as his hands snapped for the brace handles above and held tight. Undermanned due to the Crusaders' nascent numbers, much of the platforms' apparatus was either not recalibrated, or in some cases not even manned. The same predicament extended to the whole Crusader fleet over Manaan.
But what Mandalorians lacked in numbers, they made up for in grit and skill.
"Deploy the basilisks!" Haddur ordered.
"They're already out, buir."
"All of them?"
"All of them—engaging the enemy's fighters already."
Haddur cursed. This time louder.
He watched as the blackness of space lit ablaze in lasers as fleets and platforms exchanged fire and fighters and basilisks locked jaws in a savage dogfight.
His blood boiled.
He yearned to be out there.
Mandalorian Neo-Crusader Fleet
First War Basilisk Wing, First Squadron
Manaan High Orbit
A wicked grin flourished over his face as Asgir Spar's basilisk tore through the cockpit of the enemy bomber and hurled its pilot into the frigid grasp of space. He yanked the basilisk upwards and its hull shuddered as the engines burned for a pursuit against the rest of the bombers that had made their bombing pass over the defense platform.
The rest of his squadron followed, passion for glory scorching their veins. Each wishing to beat the kill score tally of the other.
The Onderon Beast Riders could only wish to ride war beasts in space.
A hail of blaster fire ended the other last man in his squad. Feydrik had entered the city with almost 20 other warriors-
Now it was just him.
He breathed deeply and raggedly, a close call with an explosion had sent him hard against a piece of landscaping and more than likely cracked a rib or two. He shakily ejected the empty cartridge from his rifle, pulling one from his belt. The Defenders had him surrounded, and were pressing in on a horseshoe pattern. He grit his teeth as his hands, shaking violently, fumbled for a stim. A stabilizer and a combat stim. He rolled it into his hands, thumbing the cap off, careful not to break it with his crushgaunts.
He slammed it into his thigh. The mix of bacta and stimulants would keep him in the fight for a while. But he knew that the situation wasn't... good. Not that a glorious death in combat wasn't good, but he would rather have picked a different place to die. No, he wanted to die somewhere.... where he wouldn't be thrown into the ocean.
So.
Feydrik wasn't going to die here.
No matter how hard they tried to kill him.
His pupils were dilated, the lights seemed brighter. He swung out of cover, his rifle trained on one of the advancing attackers. The rifle barked, a vicious, loud snap and a hateful red blaster bolt impacting the defender. The Defender, one of many, spun around violently, crashing against the ground as his life was cut short. Feydrik stood defiant, even as the Defenders moved in on him, trying to flank him. He would make it to the evac point, he would make it off of this water-drenched hellscape. And he would live to fight another day, fight another battle.
And he would help make the galaxy and all it's weakness tremble in fear.
"What will they think about your yacht?" Valery asked with a shit-eating grin, as their ship came down through the planet's atmosphere. It was not exactly the most ideal for entering a war zone, but it was all they had access to when the emergency call interrupted their meeting on Onderon. The Prince had already fought alongside her once against these Neo-Crusaders, so it had been an easy decision for them both to join forces again.
They trusted each other and they complemented each other in battle.
"I'm bringing us down fast and as close to the enemy as I can. It might get your ship a little beaten up, but the alternative is that more people lose their lives." Knowing he cared deeply about his own people, she liked to think that he'd also want to protect the people of Manaan who were caught in the crossfire.
"We're going in!" Valery made the angle of descent even more steep and swept over an ongoing battle with the luxurious yacht. She circled around, already low to the ground, and touched down as quickly as she could without destroying the landing gear. The ramp was immediately lowered, and with a weapon in hand, Valery stormed outside to join the battle.
Two violet blades ignited, drawing attention from the Mandalorians instantly, and she began to cut her way through their waves of blaster fire.
You know that light that flashes before your eyes before you die?
That's our targeting reticles.
For anyone that wants to read it, The Angellus family history to this point Is here. Angellus Ewan Isaacs - CAG/SCAR Teams CO LCaptain Halpern "Celestial City CO" Captain Zev Tantor "Silver City" CO Captain Rojuh Pouil "Valhalla" CO Captain Scott Pouil - Flight Director 5th Fleet Chief Gribbs - NCOIC 5th Fleet.
[ANY COMMUNICATIONS INSIDE THESE BRACKETS ARE THE RESULT OF COMMS COMMUNICATION] SECTOR: Manaan ORDERS: Engage Mandalorian Blockade WINGMATES: Andien Gale ENGAGING: Hakon Fett
The 5th fleet dropped out of hyperspace on the other side of Manaan. They were not really anywhere near orbit over Ahto City but there was a Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders blockade. Admiral Angellus aboard the “Celestial City” ordered all capital ships to focus on the orbital bombardment stations. He ordered all starfighters focusing on the enemy fighter screen, corvettes and frigates. The Seraphim heavy interceptors, the Super Angel interceptors and the Sovereignty heavy attack fighters focused on the capital ships, the N-1000 X-wings dogfighting and hitting targets of opportunity. The two stealth strike fighter groups (Carcharodon, and Elysian) heading for and attacking the Mandalorian flagship.
As the battle erupted in the skies above Manaan, the Mandalorian fleet may have been caught off guard but they were too good at their work not to be able to respond to the sudden appearance of more Galactic Alliance forces. Turbolaser fire crisscrossed the void, painting streaks of green and red against the backdrop of stars.
The "Celestial City" shuddered as its powerful weapons systems came online, targeting the nearest orbital bombardment station. Admiral Angellus watched from the bridge as the first salvo struck home, tearing through the first station's shields and ripping into its hull.
Meanwhile, swarms of fighters engaged in a deadly dance, weaving between capital ships and debris. The N-1000 X-wings proved their worth, their agility allowing them to outmaneuver the bulkier Mandalorian fighters Basislisk War Droids proved to be worthy of the multiple millenia old reputation they had. Explosions dotted the battlefield as ships on both sides fell to enemy fire.
The Interceptors were a different breed of starfighter, primarily designed as “air to air” but more than capable in strike missions. This was the tactic that Angellus (through his Flight Director Scott Pouihl) used to their advantage. The “Super-Angel” Interceptors would “trade off” with “Seraphim” heavy interceptors. When “Super-Angels” were on attack runs, engaging frigates and Corvettes deploying their massive “G-DAMM” bombs, “Seraphim” heavy interceptors were flying cover and engaging Mandalorian fighters trying to intercept, and vice versa.
As the fleet continued to engage the Mandalorian forces, the space above Manaan erupted into chaos. Laser fire crisscrossed the void, and explosions bloomed like silent fireworks. The "Celestial City" shuddered as its powerful turbolasers unleashed devastating barrages against the nearest orbital station.
Captain Lyrra Doon of Seraphim 1 Squadron barked orders to her pilots as they dove towards a Mandalorian battlecruiser. "Form up on me! Proton torpedoes, full spread!" The heavy interceptors unleashed their payload, punching through the enemy's shields and ripping into its hull.
Meanwhile, the stealth fighters of Carcharodon and Elysian squadrons slipped past the melee, their advanced cloaking technology rendering them nearly invisible. As they approached the Mandalorian flagship.
All was not clear and concise though as the “Rancor” and “Treadstone” were both reporting heavy damage and being belted by Mandalorian bombs and weapons fire. The “Rancor” was still in the fight, but “Treadstone” was slowly falling into a situation where she was going to need some serious assistance, or an “abandon ship” would soon be called. The counter to this was to bring in the “Warpig” close support crafts and intensify the attacks on the nearby stations and any ships to draw fire away from both nearly disabled vessels.
Composition: Fleet - Commanded by Rear Admiral Liram Angellus
Commandships - Celestial City - Commanded by Line Captain Gym Halpern - NPC Silver City - Commanded by Captain Zev Tantor - NPC Valhalla - Commanded by Captain Rojuh Pouil - NPC
In a town on one of the many islands of Manaan, Sahan effortlessy dodged the unique Selkath vibroblades that were swung at him. "Nope, too slow. Nice try, though. Maybe you could be good enough to become a Mandalorian someday, if you had some better training." He laughed aloud as the Selkath came at him in hordes with their blades. He spun and rolled, flipped and dived, evading them all with the speed and agility his marvel of a masterwork armor set gave him, occasionally kicking some of them back.
They had already been riled of into revolting, and Sahan had only made them angrier when he had pulled two firaxas from the ocean and thrown them at the crowds of rebels. In a panic, the sharks had turned on their cousins, turning the insult into injury.
Sahan had no idea why these neo-crusaders wanted the kolto here when it was inferior to bacta, but they did. And Sahan was more than willing to help them out and have a little fun. He'd been severely stressed out lately, and fighting was simply a great way to blow off steam.
He wasn't aiming to kill any of the combatants, though he easily could. Still, a few had been angry enough to give into their primal urges and come at him with their venomous claws. They had met his own and lay screaming in agonizing pain with Devaronian blood-poisoning. Still, they weren't likely to die.
For some time, the Onderonian had been sitting in silence. His eyes were fixed on a datapad: The message it carried had been read and answered much earlier but the weight it all carried was still being processed. A former Admiral for the Silver Jedi, Chaussidier
, had returned home to Onderon to head her defence force. He had now requested to be allowed to bring an reactionary force to Manaan. With the Queen out of reach, the decision had fallen onto Vince Ivro Kalmorak, the Crown Prince. The Admiral had considerable investments on Manaan: It was where many warships employed by the Onderonians were being built.
A deep frown had formed across his features as he once more reread his simple response: Permission granted, Admiral. Involuntarily, he allowed a heavy sigh to escape before the Jedi he travelled with quipped in with a joke. The weight he had been carrying on his shoulders quickly seemed to fade as a smile formed on his lips. Laughingly, he shook his head "The Selkath of Ahto have great taste. They will approve" the jest was delivered with full confidence as he put the datapad aside.
A grateful nod was offered: She had brought his mind away from the heavy duties of a future monarch.
With an approving nod, he prepared for a rapid descent. Holding on to his chair, the young Royal's eyes still scanned the battlefield like the skilled tactician that he aspired to be.
Soon, the ship had set down. While the Jedi rushed out, he flipped a few switches to lock the ship panels for anyone without the access code but kept the engines running: Fuel was much less of an issue than the ability to bail out quickly.
With his rifle in hand and medium armour protecting his arms, legs and core, the Prince quickly disembarked. Once more, the weapon was set to a high powered mode, allowing him to pack a bit more of a punch when facing the beskar wearing attackers. Firing a few shots, he moved with rapid steps to take cover in what appeared to be a storage area. Many crates and packed bags could be found across what would otherwise be a rather open area. A bit further away, hover-trolley and a forklift could be seen. A smaller shop selling papers, hotdogs, candy and other consumables could be found by the wall. The Mandalorians were a bit farther away and seemingly far more interested in the Jedi.
First giving the battlefield at large a look, he then levelled his rifle against a Mandalorian who was setting up a heavy repeater and fired off a shot to her head. He then continued to scan the field for anyone who appeared to be a high level threats against Valery Noble
The crack of blaster fire rung off like some violent symphony. A useless world, a forgettable city. Hundreds would die for it. None of them would be wearing the Beskar'gam. He had laid low in recconaissance for several days, mapping out a grid reference system for the city. Each district broken down into keypad sectors, each block assigned an alphabetical prefix, every building assigned a number. It allowed for multiple, simultaneous attacks to take place across the city. An effective opening, at the very least. But now, the Mandalorians were a mile down shit creek and once more the Alliance had come in rapid response to play hero for this useless world.
No planet that could defend its own sovereignty had any right to it. It was tenant of the once Iron Sun that Trajan had enlisted in defense of, the same that he honed these very same warfighting skills in and mirror much of the Mandalorian way in practice. As capable as a fighter as he was, he played his role best in overwatch, placing the various fighting elements where they needed to go.
But now, he was in the thick of it. Bursts of his disruptor carbine rung off with a thunderous crack each time it left the muzzle of his weapon, the heat guard visibly glowing and searing with the repeated use before he'd hang off and vent the weapon. It was in one of these reloads that another approaching vessel snatched his attention.
A yacht. Hardly the befitting taxi into the battlefield and who else to emerge from it than Jedi...and upon closer inspection, the Sword of the Jedi herself. He looked about for the closest Mandalorian fighter to him, spotting Sig Dryggo
, he motioned him over with a wave of his arm.
<"You. On me."> He all but commanded, aiming down the sights toward Valery, her silhouette taking up the center frame of his scope as she cut away at waves of blaster fire.
<"There."> He said, pinging her on his optics, the shared net allowing him to see the same through the HUD of his Beskar'gam.
<"The Grandmaster. She thinks she's untouchable, even here...we're going to put an end to that. An end to her."> He said, letting the rifle drop to his chest, fastened to the leather sling at the butt stock before he pulled the singular void grenade from his belt, showing it to Dryggo.
<"Cover my approach."> He said, ducking behind the slide of rubble he'd settled within before he eased back, pulsing himself forward with a boost from his jet pack, aimed toward Noble before he'd flick the fuse of the grenade on, slamming it into the battered road way upon his landing, the explosive bursting into a thick cloud of force-choking dust before he quickly painted Valery in his targetting system and fired off a burst of whistling birds toward the Jedi.
Sig glanced first to Carduul Akahl
and then to Trajan Fett
. The Jetiise Grandmaster. A true prize indeed; both in fight and in death. Sig let a sinister smile fall upon his face as his jetpack booster him up and onto the nearest rooftop, putting him several stories above the fighting on the streets. He quickly scanned the field to find the fancy yacht the Jedi had brought into battle. A moment later his sights came onto Valery Noble
, the grandmaster of a soon to be broken order.
Not far off from the grandmaster was someone else who emerged from the craft, Vince
, who appeared to be setting up a defensive position. Watching as Trajan made his move, Sig too launched forward, following from behind at a higher altitude. As they approached, and Trajan launched his attacks against the grandmaster, Sig fired multiple shots from his twin blasters. After a volley was set forth, he slammed down hard onto the ground and raised his artificial arm forward, the flamethrower attached to it igniting as he did so.
While Trajan worried about the grandmaster, he would take on this extra defender. Regardless if anything hit, be it the blaster fire or flamethrower, he knew at least the fighter would have to fall back to regroup.
A city on fire, a people slaughtered, and Zandra found herself once again in a sea of bodies. What was she doing? This was not the way she saw herself going when she became a Mandalorian. She wanted to free these people from the shackles of the Alliance, but then the raid turned into open genocide. Her vode was slaughtering everyone in the street. Then, the Alliance troops begam to show. That was a fight worthy of a Mandalorian.
It was hard to get a headcount on the alliance soldiers and their native allies. It had to be a platoon or more just to engage the small squad of Clan Dryggo fighters. Not good odds for the alliance. That was, until one of them started to summon water from nowhere, and swinging a lance like a crazy woman. She wasn't engaging the Mandalorians who were shooting at alliance troops, but the ones targeting the fleeing civilians. It was quite the site to behold.
The witch would deftly maneuver, her body untouched by the armored warriors resisting her. It was like seeing an acrobat doing her routine on the grand stage of combat. Even the well trained warriors of the Crusade were unable to pin her down. Every step was guided by something, as if her opponents were moving in slow motion. Then, she saw the woman manifest water from seemingly nowhere, and whip the guns right out of a warrior's hands! It had to be... the Force!
"Fall back to the next rally point! We aren't equipped for fighting Jetii!"
Zandra didn't know the difference between witches and Jedi, but she knew the Force when she saw it. To her, all force users were the same. Pawns of the Alliance, and enemies of her clan. She wasn't going to fall back though, she was out for blood. Zandra rushed up to the girl, her Beskad clashing with the lance to protect one of her vode.
"You're mine Jetii! Your kind owe me a pound of flesh!"
”Karkin’ hell, man! Just one simple job is all I ask for.” Yuri shouted to himself as he zoomed through the air, avoiding blasterfire and various objects flung at him. For once he knew that he was innocent with his work, no way in hell could a simple drug run cause all-out war on a planet. At least not on his level of operation.
The jetpack’s power warning blared in the corner of his HUD, forcing him to touch down and proceed on foot. At least the constant flying gave him some much needed info: Mandalorian ships overhead with Alliance ships closing in. What surprised him, though, was the markings on the ships and the Mandalorians flying around the place. They weren’t Enclave and didn’t match that of other coverts or splinter groups that he knew of. ”This is not ayoba, dammit! Just one job, that’s all I ask.” He grumbled as he spun around to fire a plethora of blaster bolts into the growing crowd pursuing him.
A thought occurred to him and he spared a glance at his own armour. His mother’s armour. The Krayt emblem stood out in its golden paint and the markings on his pauldron didn’t exactly match that of the attacking Mandalorians. In hindsight, honouring his mother’s legacy could ironically get him killed.
He shoved the grim thought aside and raised his vambrace to fire his grappling line at a nearby balcony. If he could get on the roofs, he could make some distance from the rioting Selkath. No way in hell was he using his rocket boots in this fiasco, that was a last resort.
After jumping across balconies and busting through doors, he managed to lose the pursuing crowd… and ran straight into another. Luckily this group was being distracted by another Mandalorian. Unluckily the attacker’s armour was eerily familiar. ”Great. Last thing I need today is a karkin’ family reunion.” He growled as he fired into the crowd to ease up the pressure on his vod.
”Need a hand?” He called out to the man as he reloaded his pistols to send another volley of blaster bolts into the crowd of revolting Selkath.
"Well, I'll be damned," Sahan muttered to himself, as a familiar figure came bursting out of a building and fired on the large crowd, dispersing it somewhat. "Maji, you mangey mutt, I'm surprised you're still alive! Come to join the fun?"
The Shistavenan began firing into the crowd, taking out a few of the rebel Selkath. "Don't particularly need a hand, but I won't turn any down. I'm mostly just blowing off steam." Sahan sent an elbow into the face of an attacker attempting to rush him from behind. The fishman's face exploded with blood, and he went rolling to the ground.
"I see you're still wearing the Krayt emblem. Any plans on officially joining the clan? You'd have a new little brother. The most recent Krayt is an interesting character. He's an actual, blasted dragon!" Sahan engaged his suit boosters and quickly hit ten Selkath in a spinning Rising Falcon kick. "And I just realized; we both have dragon sigils."
TAGS: OPEN Yuri Maji
(GA Jedi have permission to come get their butts kicked, if they are so inclined.)
Location: Manaan Objective: Cut power Gear: Beskar'gam, boarding shotgun, Ship Tags: OPEN
The woman landed in the streets of the city and took stock of her surroundings. She had been tasked with taking out comm relays and infrastructure for her vod, limiting the response capabilites of the defenders, things had gone well for her, she had met several defenders and dispatched them handily. This one should be no different. Ahead on her holomap was a major power relay, this one was deep on civilian area as it powered a nearby shopping centre, but it was a link in the chain that needed to be disabled to ensure that the anti-aircraft facilities a mile away were also incapacitated.
She walked along the street past an animal shelter and heard dogs howling at distant gunfire, she even stopped a moment to admire a particularly large hound before moving on, walking across the gardens of a retirement home for injured war veterans. She had a strange feeling in her metallic bones, it was very quiet, she could hear birds between the crack of a sniper several kliks away or the off ion engine over head.
As she vaulted over the fence and walked across a painted concrete surface, she counted the numbers on the hopscotch, kicking a piece of chalk that had been abandoned in the hasty evacuation. She looked up and saw the pylons for the power relay in the distance and activated her thrusters to leap the hundred or so metres to its front gate. Something still didn't feel right, it was civilian infrastructure, but surely she couldnt just walk up to door, rip out some transformers and then head home could she. Beside the road was a large van which had furniture out the back of it, it looked like a removals speeder of some description. Piles of boxes stood unattended beside it, Livia read the black markings on their side.
"Big V's travelling ophanarium"
"I have a bad feeling about this"
Humm-tishhhhh
She turned and saw the jedi come almost out of nowhere, she guessed it wouldn't just be a case of walking in and turning off the power.
Careena Fett
and
Trajan Fett
have pinpointed Manaan's vital military installations. With precision and coordination,
The Operator
and
Livia Cadera
, among other Mandalorian infiltartors,, strike swiftly, disabling comm relays in the system and seizing control of the orbital defense platforms. As the Mandalorian Neo-Crusader fleet arrives in-system, the platforms turn against the planet's own defenders.
Gaanla Munin
and
Sig Dryggo
spearhead a daring high-orbit, low-drop assault on the key installations, seizing them with brutal efficiency. With Ahto City and Manaan's skies under Mandalorian control, the blockade tightens, choking off the flow of kolto—one of the galaxy's most valuable medical resource. The Neo-Crusaders ferry the precious substance off-world for their own needs and much like the raid on Contruum - they seek to gauge the Alliance's response.
