Skirmish Neo-Crusaders Raid on Manaan | Open to All

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Factory Link
Weapons: Double-Bladed Lightsaber

With greater numbers than the Mandalorians, a Jedi's protection made an even bigger impact. She was a moving shield that walked across the battlefield, offering cover while reflecting bolts of deadly energy back at the enemy. With Vince behind her, covering her in return, she felt confident to move up and began to walk across a somewhat narrow bridge. These chokepoints were important to capture, or else they'd risk the Mandalorians using them to funnel the reinforcements.

But she knew that moving across would draw attention.

Her senses pulled her gaze up to the sky, as a Mandalorian warrior came down from above with his jetpack. He touched the battered road and a cloud of dust exploded around him. Too much for it to be debris from the road itself, and as it expanded and began to engulf her, Valery felt a familiar strain on her connection to the Force. Not cutting it off, but choking it like a tight grip on a water hose.

This wasn't her first time being exposed to it, but with Mandalorians on the opposite side of this battlefield, the risk of an impaired connection was far greater.

<Vince, give me covering fire!> She exclaimed, hoping the Prince had noticed what was going on. But whether or not he did, Valery was forced to move. Whistling birds cracked through the sky, and rather than use the Force to deflect them or cast a barrier, she used the strength she could summon to run and jump away.

As explosions further destroyed the ground underneath her feet, Valery threw herself off the platform and disappeared into the ocean's depths.

The cold splash drew her breath away, but the water cleansed her of any lingering dust from the grenade, allowing her to tap into the Force and sustain her breathing. She looked around as she floated several meters underneath the water's surface, barely able to see in the dark waters underneath the city.

Vince Trajan Fett Sig Dryggo ​

 

[Vince]

Neo-Crusaders Raid on Manaan
Objective I: 40:1 | Intervening, again​

Tags: Valery Noble Sig Dryggo Trajan Fett

Shooting down a Mandalorian barreling through the skies towards him would likely not have been that great of a challenge under the right circumstances. But then, these were hardly the right circumstances. The Jetpacks going off in the distance were hardly a priority when faced with the immediate threat of the Mandalorians firing Valery Noble from the vicinity. Careful and measured shots were being levelled against another Mandalorian attempting to set up the repeater, then one reaching for a frag grenade and then another who seemed to take his time to find the perfect shot whilst the rest drenched the Jedi in blaster fire.

Vince could likely consider himself lucky to be fighting by her side: For with her dual-bladed lightsaber and apparent lack of fear, she drew all the attention. Almost. The airborne foes had closed the distance at an unbelievable pace. Before the Crown Prince knew any better, a flurry of blaster bolts were raining down upon him. The first one hit the top of the crate behind which he hid. Ducking quickly probably saved his life, for the second one scraped by the top of his helmet, leaving a long scotch mark as it violently knocked him over. On the bright side, it saved him from the rest of the onslaught. On the other hand, he would likely need a little bit of time before giving marksmanship another go.

Still, the Prince made sure to stay low as he recovered at a quick rate: Adrenaline fueled him as he looked up. Flames licked the crate's top and left side. It would only be a matter until it too melted away to leave him exposed. Letting the rifle hang by the band around his shoulder, Vince speedily crawled along the unexposed side of the crate whilst drawing his Tilsiter blaster pistol with his left hand.

Springing to action, he launched himself from behind the unexposed side and fired off a shot aimed at the Mandalorian's flamethrower wielding arm - not to injure it necessarily, but to throw him off balance. Then, he drew his officer's sabre and produced an aggressive step forward along with a quick slash aimed at the flamethrower. Meanwhile, his left hand pointed the blaster at Trajan Fett whilst firing off a flurry of highly inaccurate bolts which were clearly intended to distract and disrupt, rather than to cause any real damage.

Choosing not to stand back, Vince pushed forth towards Sig Dryggo to tackle - or hug - him: But by this point, the Prince's pace was slowed from the initial slash and the flurry of bolts going to Trajan. Staying in close melee range against a Mandalorian was deadly - but being out in the open against multiple Mandalorians was even deadlier.

 

[Brooke Waters]

Maybe she did step into this conflict in the worst of way. Brooke was not really a soldier, she was once a spy, able to gather information, and began to use that to hunt down targets. She had her Jedi training, much abridged, though it was, and her Witch path. She put faith in life. She put faith in the goodness of others. And she was out to protect rather than harm. Her Blue Coral Diver coven could defend against the Scissorfists all day, but the latter came in with swords and bows to a fight, her people kept pushing them back.

Perhaps why they had the lance, a spear/trident combination, as their summoned weapon. Their special weapon. She of course, had other weapons, but preferred that unless she needed her saber, or slugthrower.

When she heard a call for retreat, Brooke turned her head, the faded blue glow of her mask's eyes finding a dark armored Mandalorian. Jedi? Her? Once yes. But no longer.

"Not a Jedi, Mandalorian. Just here to stop unnecessary deaths." Did she care for the Alliance? No. She cared about her mission, however unpredictable and unknown it was to her own clan mother. She turned, and called on the Force, a small spell whispered under her breath as the lance emitted a blue glow.

Zandra Ruus

 

[Trajan Fett]

R E T R I B U T O R
CRUSADER
MANDALORIAN NEO-CRUSADERS
CRUSADE | Sig Dryggo | Carduul Akahl | Feydrik Munin
ALLIANCE | Jonyna Si | Brooke Waters
DIRECT OPPOSITION | Valery Noble | Vince
Beskar'gam | Carbine | Void Grenade

THE ART OF DYING​

His focus was solely on the Jedi. The flurry of blaster bolts which knicked Trajan at best did little to spurn his assault. As she turned and made way for the shore line, he took aim down his vambrace again, firing out a grappling line toward her legs which would quickly whip and lasso around her legs as he tried to pull her back toward him, his other hand grasping for his vibroblade at his hip, the telescopic blade concealed with the hilt before he clicked an activation switch, the blade sliding out with a metallic hiss before it began to vibrate.

<"WEAK!"> ​

The Mandalorian barked out, his voice deep and part gravely beneath the vocoder of his Beskar helmet. He moved to close the gap, swiping the blade toward Valery, immediately following his assault with a lunge before he pulled one hand from the hilt, firing a burst from his wrist mounted flame thrower only to continue his assault by blade.

<"Come to show face, parading around your decadence to these people you claim to save...pathetic."> He said, remarking the yacht they'd shown up on as he let out a loud note accompanying another swing of the blade.

<"You'll find out soon how little your mettle has been tested. All will be tried in steel...and all that fail will be put to the sword.">

 

[Yuri Maji]

MANAAN | AHTO CITY
ALLIES: Sahan Dragr | Zandra Ruus | Feydrik Munin
ENEMIES: Valery Noble | Vince | Brooke Waters
ENGAGING: OPEN
GEAR: In bio

BLACK BETTY​

Yuri was a bit unnerved about how happy Sahan was to see him, was he missed that much back in Enclave space? He pushed the thought aside as he moved closer to support Sahan and ease up the pressure on the man. ”Didn’t exactly join by choice. These kriffin’ bucket heads crashed a business deal of mine.” He remarked. ”Last thing I needed was to be dragged into another crusade.” He let loose with his plasmacaster and whistling birds before scanning for an exit out of the area.

”Nah, not joining that damned clan, Jos still hasn’t said sorry for chasin’ Ma away. Heard about the dragon, though.” He explained before giving the man a tap on the shoulder. ”We need to move, there’s a massive group of ‘em closin’ in around the area. We’ll be overwhelmed.” He urged Sahan as he started to make his way to a nearby bridge. ”Come on, let’s move!” He gave the man a yank and made his way towards a safer position.

He sent a rocket into the crowd of Selkath and bolted for safety. His jetpack was starting to regain a bit of power, but it had a long way to go before he could fly again. Unless Sahan wanted to give him a lift, he was stuck on the ground for the foreseeable future.

A few blocks later, a stray bolt smashed Yuri into the ground. With a pained groan he sat up to see who shot him. Another Mandalorian, standing tall against all the occupants of the area. ”What’s with you kriffers and fightin’ solo today?!” He practically barked at both Sahan and the stranger.

Firing another stream of blaster bolts and a spray from his plasmacaster, Yuri clawed away at one of the flanking groups around the stranger. ”Yo, shabuir!” He called out to the man. That was bound to get his attention. ”You gotta fall back, half the karkin’ suburb is movin’ in around here.” He glanced at the man for a brief moment to check if he was even listening.

 

[Sig Dryggo]

"We are born to die. We live to be remembered," -Mandalorian proverb

The Crusade: Trajan Fett | Carduul Akahl | Feydrik Munin
The Opposition: Valery Noble | Vince ​

With Trajan fully engaged with the Grandmaster, Sig’s attention would focus on the jetiise’s ally. While he had hoped his flamethrower would push the enemy back, instead he pushed forward with strikes of his own. While his initial blaster shot did cause him to slightly lose footing, he stayed strong as the man then launched an attack with a sword.

Immediately stopping the flames, Sig stepped back only for the man to tackle him. Or try, Sig standing as still as a stump before looking down at the man. He was about to chuckle, as the man was clearly overwhelmed and unable to deliver the tackle he had hoped. But before the breath could leave his lungs memories came flooding back. For this man was no ordinary fighter.

“YOU!”

he shouted, now all but consumed with hatred and eyes burning so hot that even the man could likely feel them through his emotionless t-visor. Throwing his arms around him, Sig let out an angry war cry and threw the man through one of the nearby shop windows.

Taking a breath he walked over the broken glass and entered the shop, the owner cowering in the corner speaking a language Sig didn’t understand. He didn’t care to either, glancing first at the owner and then down at the man. “I’ve waited a long time for this,” he stated coldly as he walked through the store. “Long have I dreamed of this moment, long have I waited to see that face.”

As he reached the owner he extended a hand and gripped the selkath civilian by the throat, cutting off his panicked yelling. Sig dragged him over to the man before bringing him up between them. Raising a blaster to his back, he eyed over his shoulder at the man. “And here we are, of all days…” he finally let out a laugh, the situation becoming all too real for him, at last. After getting the laugh out he straightened himself once more, raising his second blaster to point at his prey.

“So here you are fighting for the weak,” he mocked, his anger coming under control once more. “Why am I not surprised? After all: you are the weak,” he said, a sinister grin forming beneath his t-visor, “and I am the one who will lead.”​

 

[Andien Gale]

Hakon Fett | Liram Angellus

ANS Galant Triumph
Galactic Alliance - Strike Group Flash
Battlegroup Kenobi - Third Sector Fleet
Rear-Admiral Andien Gale - Galactic Alliance Navy

"Enemey starfighers launched!"

"Cobalt squadron is down! We're out one bombing crew. No hits on target!"

"Captain Cutler's stopped responding to our hails! I think he's going rogue!"

Andien cursed under her breath as another volley of turbolaser fire from the space stations glanced across the Gallant's shields, rocking the ship. A lucky shot. It was starting to seem like there were too many of those. She glanced across her instrument panel, checking the status of her task force. In the corner of her screen, yellow rings pulsated, as if a child had dropped a pebble in still water. A neatly plucked brow arched, incredulous.

"Ma'am! Cronau radiation spike in sector three!" Andien held her breath. Had the Jedi been had? Was Manaan a trap all along? She glanced over at her instrument panel again. No, there were no interdiction bubbles anywhere. She hadn't been caught in a Thrawn's Pincer. Then what?

Ten vessels dropped out of hyperspace, one after another. She hadn't seen their designs before, but IFF readings came back almost instantly, shifting their triangular shapes from unknown/neutral yellow to friendly blue. There were Alliance.

"It's the 5th Reactionary Fleet!" One of her com officers shouted. And it was a fleet. Andien fell back in her seat, unaware that she had even been leaning forward to begin with. Another rogue admiral like her? She smirked as she watched dozens of little green dots swarm from the larger blue triangles. High Command was going to have a field day with this.

ANS Consolidator
Galactic Alliance - Strike Group Flash
Battlegroup Kenobi - Third Sector Fleet
Captain Cutler - Galactic Alliance Navy

Captain Cutler shut off the frequency connecting him to Andien and sat back in his captain's chair, fingers interlocking on his lap. The arrival of the 5th fleet was an opportunity. Likely, they'd be scrambling now. Before, with just Admiral Gale's Triumph, his Consolidator, and the third vessel, an old Endurance fleet carrier named the Sunspire, the fight looked dire. Sure, the Mandalorians were using older ships and if Manaan's defense stations had been up to snuff this raid and blockade would have been impossible; but the Mandalorians had grit, and a numerical advantage. Now, the odds were in their favor.

A turbolaser bolt crashed into the Consolidator's ventral shield, rocking the vessel. It tanked the hit, its deflector shields holding true. Cutler smiled wide. That was why he loved this ship. It flew like a permacrete brick in space, but it hit like one too. They were on the outer edge of the Mandalorian's formation. On his tactical, they were pulling up on their left flank.

"Slash manuever! Focus fire on their smaller ships. We can take a few hits from their frigates. Hit those light cruisers!"

ANS Consolidator
Galactic Alliance - Strike Group Flash
Battlegroup Kenobi - Third Sector Fleet
Gunnery Chief Dalton Waystrum - Turbolaser Firing Crew 12

​

The beaches of Zeltros were where Dalton wanted to be right now. Instead, the one-armed Morellian was stuck shooting bucketheads out of the sky. If it wasn't eggheads, it was mandies. When the war with the Maw finally ended, Dalton had thought a career in the navy would be peaceful and slow. Not for him. He yawned and swiveled in his chair. Despite the combat outside, Dalton felt almost none of it, save for the occasional shudder or groan of durasteel. He was burried deep inside the vessel as part of a turbolaser crew.

A set of coordinates came down from up top on the bridge, he hit the green button that compiled them into a firing solution, he double checked the droid's work, and he pulled the trigger. Sometimes he had to swivel his chair, as he did now, to keep the gun in place as the Consolidator flew through space. It was Dalton who got most of the credit for the kills, at least the credit leftover from the officers up top who sent the instructions. The others on his crew, Jek and Rim, were just there to yell at the droids to keep Dalton's gun purring.

He hadn't seen any action this battle, his gun was just far enough along the spine of the ship that unless they were doing a full slag inducing broadside barrage that they didn't bother sending him instructions. Now, however, his nap time was over. He yawned as he sat up in his seat and cracked his knuckles. Grid 24,92,10. Full broadside barrage. Dalton squinted at the target. Was that...A light cruiser? Jek whistled from behind him.

"I feel sorry for any blokes in that itty bitty 'ting," he said. Dalton just shrugged and pulled the trigger.

ANS Galant Triumph
Galactic Alliance - Strike Group Flash
Battlegroup Kenobi - Third Sector Fleet
Rear-Admiral Andien Gale - Galactic Alliance Navy

Andien watched as the Consolidator barreled into the Mandalorian lines, the vessel doing what it was meant to do, tanking shot after shot and giving back, letting its turbolasers. For some reason, Cutler had performed a slash, usually a maneuver you did with a group of ships in a line. You cut through the enemy formation, hoping to the Force that your shields hold as you and your group fly surrounded on both sides by enemies, unloading everything in an all out double broadside assault. Some used the confusion it created to circle back from behind an enemy formation once your line had slashed through. Cutler though, was playing it fast and loose with the conventions of naval combat. Diving head first into a formation of frigates and light cruisers with a Star Destroyer and two defense stations was utterly insane. Was he looking for a commendation, or death? Maybe he was hoping the 5th's arrival would throw the Mandalorian lines into chaos.

Andien cursed as the Consolidator's turbolasers lit up the Mandalorian formation in flashes of green and red. Meanwhile, she had been forced to stay with her carrier. The Mandalorian Bes'uliik were proving too much even for her gunships to handle. She was working double duty; firing on the Mandos from a distance and screening.

 

[Ninurta Slaabur'r]

Location: Manaan, Underwater.
Objective: AMBUSH!
Allies: Trajan Fett
Enemies: Valery Noble
NPC's: Controlling x2 Rathtars

From the dark fathoms of Manaan's oceans, bulbous shadows blurred and ascended with terrifying speed. From below little could be seen, but movement could be felt and then came the numerous yellow eyes littered over a crimson red form. A visage littered with massive toothy maw and too many incisors to count.

Trailing behind another similar monstrous shape roared and atop it a bone clad warrior with a all too well known T-shaped visor. The beast master thrusting a fist forward commanded the two Rathtars to take attention at a single floating being near the surface. Jetii. Tentacles extended forward greedily, intent on dragging the Grandmaster further down and closer to digestion.

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Manaan, Planetside
| Objective | KILL THEM! KILL THEM ALL!

From the moment she chose to turn her back on those Mandalorians who refused to embrace the future, Jenn knew this day would come.​

​

Mandalorian against Mandalorian. The blood of those she had once called her people staining her hands. An unthinkable deed, to some - even more so when done out of concern for aruetiise. By siding with the Alliance over her own people, some might go as far as to call her dar'manda. Not that she particularly cared about the thoughts of those who chose to debase themselves in pursuit of a past they glorified. They had made their choice when they chose to use the vaunted strength of their people against targets undeserving of such fury.​

​

When word reached her of Crusaders darkening the skies the world of Manaan through her greatest friend's call to action, the Alor acted without hesitation. Bloodied as they were by the Battle of Coruscant, the warriors of the Clan were mustered, and so too did their Onderonian auxiliaries follow them into battle; extensively drilled as they had been, these hastati would finally get the chance to prove their mettle to the rallymasters who commanded them.​

​

The humble strike force soon arrived within the system; communications were quickly established with the Alliance presence in orbit, and an escort of interceptors dispatched to ensure that the Mandalorians made it down onto the planet safely. Were it not for the dire circumstances of such a deployment, Jenn would have smiled at the simple, yet meaningful reminder of the bonds forged between Clan Kryze and the Galactic Alliance; the warriors of blue and white had fought shoulder-to-shoulder with their former enemy on Onderon, and made good on their pledge during the Battle of Coruscant.​

​

"Hear me, my warriors!" called the Alor through Clan-wide comms. "Your objectives remain the same as during the liberation of Onderon. Rallymasters, take your hastati and reinforce the resistance where you are needed most; coordinate with the Alliance if you can. My kyramud, bring me the heads of any of our misguided vode trying to keep this retreat from becoming a rout. All of you must ensure that your transponders are kept active; not much differentiating us from the foe to the untrained. Do your ancestors proud, and may the Force be with us all!"​

​

The dropships touched down, then, and out came the warriors of blue and white - some of them leading squads of Onderonian hastati, clad in armors of plastoid assembled in the Mandalorian fashion. This would be their baptism by fire; all those months of rigorous training would either pay off... or prove to be a horrid waste of resources.​

​

Hovering in the air thanks to her jetpack, the Mandalorian looked upon the destruction wrought upon Manaan by those she had once regarded as her people... and felt the simmering anger within her rising up to the surface. Renowned for her calm and collected approach to the many challenges thrown her way by the Galaxy, the Alor's anger was all the more spectacular because of this reputation for control. And when her voice finally rose from her helm, amplified by the built-in speakers as well as her very nature as an Ersansyr? One would hardly be at fault for calling it a howl.​

​

​

"MY NAME IS ALOR JENN KRYZE, AND I AM HERE IN THE NAME OF THE LIGHT! FACE ME, YOU TREASONOUS DOGS, AND DIE! FOR I STAND ON THE SIDE OF JUSTICE, AND YOU STAND ON THE SIDE OF DEATH!"​

​

| Friendly | @Open
| Hostile | @Open ​

 

[Carduul Akahl]

TAGS: Jenn Kryze
"Tion ke'gyce ner kad al'ijaat? (What guides my sword if not honor?)"
—Ancient Mandalorian Saying

The Jedi and her companion would have their hands full with the combined efforts of Trajan and Sig, no doubt. They went charging ahead to deal with the threat - he would have joined if he could, but he had to focus on the task at hand. He’ll have another chance to fight a Jetii, another day. Turning sharply away from the battle, he pressed on with his company. Cleaving his way through dogged resistors, dismantling entrenched positions, like burning through a forest to get to the clearing.

The evacuation point was just in reach…until they were beset by a new force.

Turning to face the threat, cape billowing in the wake of a wrist-rocket’s explosion, his eyes rested upon a contemptible sight - white-clad mandalorians, bearing plastoid as if Imperial in nature. “Get going with that shipment, now!” He barked backwards, “The rest, STAND!” He raised his weapon high in the air, giving a rallying cry: “For the old ways! For our true future!”

Holding down the defensive line with a token force, Carduul would opt to stave the tide of newfound opposition. They needed more time to cover their escape, and he would seek to grant them it. It would be a worthy endeavor to earn honor in. The Neo-Crusaders with him have steeled themselves for years, waiting for this age, however brief it may be. Fellow Mandalorians and pretenders were not exempt from judgment, and they were more than happy to give their misguided kin a history lesson in their seemingly ancient armor.

Plastoid and bone cracked and gave way under his weapon’s powerful blows, felled to his heavy blaster pistol’s shots, himself weaving through the battlefield with an almost natural grace. What manner of mockery was this? Cheap copies, attempting to pass off as Mandalorians, bearing shells that proved no better than toys.

It wouldn’t be long before the head of the snake reared its head. The Rally Master would’ve noted it was much similar to previous leaders of Kryze - the entire sect seemed rife with such thoughts, intent on declaring others treasonous as they themselves broke away. A shame.

He took aim, and fired a volley of shots from his pistol at the hovering Nite Owl, whom so boldly declared her intentions to stand against her history, her culture. The shots wouldn’t have much effect other than to perhaps knock her down. They were merely to grab her attention. To demand it, in the face of such accusations levied.

“You only sully your clan’s name further, Kryze! You would reduce your clan to lapdogs serving at the behest of others - be it the dar’jetii under Khamul Kryze , or the jetii under you!”

Voice raised, “THEY ARE CHAINS ALL THE SAME!” As the shriek of jetpacks and blaster fire became audible across the starport, from both sides. The fight had begun in ernest. New engaged the old reincarnate swiftly, battlefield emerging around them. A blue and white haze of battle, and in their center rested pillars of two utterly different ideals from the same broken culture.

Whether she was in the air or on the ground, he emerged from the thick smoke and chaotic skirmishing with a jettison forwards, aiming to lance at her abdomen with the tip of his poleaxe. Through gritted teeth, he defiantly cried in return of the prior words, with all the spirit of the warriors of old.

“I am Carduul Akahl, and I proudly stand on the side of death! Death for your kind, whom would have us languish for eternity!”​

 

[Hakon Fett]

TAGS: Andien Gale Liram Angellus
COMMS TO GROUND FORCES BOTTOM OF THE POST: Trajan Fett Carduul Akahl Sig Dryggo Sahan Dragr Livia Cadera Feydrik Munin @others bro i aint tagging you all fr
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 Light Cruiser Wrathful
Manaan Medium Orbit

The grim red triangles materializing on the hologrid could faze anyone but Lann Kelborn. Ten Alliance battleships reverted to realspace and rapidly advanced on the Mandalorians’ two-tiered defense line. He did not flinch.

Like a well-ground machine, the Mandalorian fleet and defense platforms shifted a larger portion of their firepower at the newly arrived fleet headed for their positions and into their effective firing range.

“One Star Destroyer has broken from the first enemy fleet’s line.” reported the sensor officer, his voice betraying hints of fear. “They’re burning fuel straight for us!”

A smile tugged at Lann’s lips. Any sailor worth their salt knew the outcome of this predicament. Insufficiently manned and staffed, with quick-made refits, like much of the rest of the fleet, the Wrathful stood no chance to a Star Destroyer plowing straight through their lines and unleashing a full broadside upon the light cruiser.

The platforms and the other Mandalorian ships in closer proximity turned their full focus on the Star Destroyer, bulldozing like a famished rancor, too late, distracted by the newly arrived fleet.

Lann stared through the viewport as the behemoth of a vessel passed, its starboard gleaming alive with the green flashes of turbolaser fire. The Wrathful shook and shuddered, cried and shrieked as durasteel plates bent and twisted into scrap. Explosions through the lower decks drowned the blaring horn sounding over the light cruiser. The grizzled Mandalorian captain watched as his ship was torn, chunk by chunk, as if an invisible maw gnawed at it relentlessly.

Crewmen paced about in their hermetized Mandalorian armors, hoping they would make it to the void of space before oblivion arrived.

But Lann Kelborn did not flinch.

“Death before dishonor.”

The flames consumed him.

Mandalorian Neo-Crusader Fleet
Bridge of the Keldabe battleship Stormbringer
Manaan Medium Orbit

Hakon’s fists itched to clench until his knuckles turned white but his cool mind doused the raging streak of fire from combusting outwards.

“Bold for an aruetii.” Orm commented, a hint of respect in his tone, as both he and Hakon observed the Star Destroyer pummeling through the Mandalorian lines, leaving a wreckage of the Wrathful in its passing.

From the Mandalorian two-tiered defence, turbolaser cannons and missiles barreled down the star destroyer intent on avenging their fallen brothers and sisters of the Wrathful on the late order of Hakon Fett. A gap in their line could not be allowed, not with the ten battleship force that had just arrived present. The captains of the remaining ships were well aware of that fact and had quickly began to scramble to reposition.

“They’re not coordinating.” Hakon noted, his eyes behind the visor squinting over the tactical holodisplay. “They’re too far apart. The destroyer and the rest of the Alliance fleet.” Even with the newly arrived fleet’s rapid advance towards their line, the distance seemed far too great for the opening to be exploited. A lofted eyebrow caught something else, far more baffling. “... And the new fleet’s… deployed its squadrons straight for our screen.”

“Still, thirteen fully manned warships.” Orm reminded him.

“I know.” Hakon coldly stated then called out to the helmsman. “Avik, turn starboard towards the planet.”

“Understood.”

“Now I see their response, Orm. I see their challenge.”

“Indeed. And what is ours?”

“We let them know we will not be deterred.” Hakon said, then turned to the comms officer. “Order the ordnance section to load the VS canisters and open a line to our ground forces.”

“Affirmative, al’verde.” several moments later, the comm officer replied, “Line is open.”

<<”To all Mandalorian ground forces, this is Hakon Fett. Time is running out. Survive to fight another day or die in glory.”>

ooc// call doesnt mean /exit next post. time is subjective, enjoy your stories. just adding more tension flavor to them.

Spoiler: Fleet Comp

1x Keldabe-class battleship
8x corvettes
3 2x light cruisers
2x frigates
1x refitted A-class bulk freighter

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Manaan
| Objective | Spill Mandalorian blood

The Hastati gave as good as they got, and the Crusaders fought with the ferocity of a cornered beast; before long, this clash of traditionalists and reformers became a veritable bloodbath. Even as they were brutally cut down by their Mandalorian foes, the Onderonians held true to their mission, following the orders of the beskar-clad veterans serving as squad leaders and officers; Jenn watched from above as her warriors fought and died for her cause, harrying their foe just as they had been trained with wrist rockets, flamethrowers and blaster. Coordinating the efforts of her reformers, the Alor's efforts were interrupted by a volley of shots; the first crashed against her breastplate, claiming a groan from the siren as she quickly readjusted her position in the air to avoid the rest. Before long, her eyes came to rest on the form of her would-be adversary.​

​

"Do not speak to me of chains, Crusader scum! You are nothing but a slave to the past, blind to the future - an arrogant beast, and little more! I fight for the weak, for it is the duty of the strong!"​

​

All around them, vode fought against vode; no quarter was shown by either side, and more than one impromptu duel ended with the victor picked off by the other side. Dropping down to the ground to meet her foe, the Alor drew no beskad from her belt, but a weapon whose very nature served as a testament to the nigh-unbreakable bond forged between herself and the Grandmaster of the Jedi. Another reminder of how readily she embraced change, and abandoned old hatreds - and with them, those among her people who chose to hold on to the past. It was only when she saw the furious Crusader emerge from the smoke that the Ersansyr gave an elegant flick of her wrist, and let the lightwhip come to life.​

​

Unlike the popular image of a Mandalorian warrior, Jenn was not the very definition of brawn. Keenly aware of her body and its limitations, the Sithspawn's talents were found in her footwork; all the same, her acrobatic jump was just enough to avoid being skewered. Hell, she all but felt that weapon piercing through the air where she had been standing but a moment ago. Being forced on the defensive would do her no good, just as she had learned when fighting Jogon during the Battle of Coruscant - and so she committed herself to an all-out assault, each flick of her wrist followed by another, then another, the elegant whip sent forth in a beautifully devastating arc for each motion she made.​

​

Jenn's voice was as potent a weapon as any; in such close proximity, her every word would prove to be difficult to bear, forming into an unnatural howl one could easily perceive over the din of battle, drowning out even the explosions created by wrist rockets.​

​

"Nobody will remember you, irrelevant fool! The Galaxy will forget you, as it has countless murderous brigands before; your armor, I will melt down, and your name, I will strike out from history itself!"​

​

| Hostile | Carduul Akahl ​

 

[Feydrik Munin]

Death would come, but not today.


Moving to: Yuri Maji


​

There wasn't a physical barrier between him and the other Mandalorians, a distance away across the chaotic city streets. The Manaan defenders came en masse, moving against the Mandalorians. Feydrik was the last of his unit, the sole remaining survivor of the initial assault. It was the way of war, that often you failed, and sometimes died.

But Feydrik had no intention of dying.

No, Feydrik wanted to live.

Feydrik wanted to fight another day.

Across the way, the other Mandalorians were gathered, providing cover by fire and maneuver to each other. It was roughly 100 yards or so, give or take. He pressed himself against the loose cover, breathing raggedly and pressing his palm to the floor. He had to be fast. Fear gave men wings. He wondered what drove him.

But he knew that the Selkath would surround him there. The dead bodies of his fallen comrades could be retrieved later. They were gone. Staying with them only meant he would die too, and to die foolishly was far different than dying bravely. He looked across, the wall of blaster fire impacting all around him. But he had no choice.

He stood up and began to run. He charged himself forward, his jetpack hit earlier in the firefight. His legs were powerful and strong. His body was hardened and tempered, forged by years of brutal, awful training. He was crossing the distance on foot. He was moving fast. Blaster fire rained around him. Feydrik moved like an animal, blaster bolts screeching around him.

Perhaps he was mad.

Perhaps he was brave.

Perhaps he was afraid.

But still, he advanced towards his comrades, eager to return to their side and into the safety of his brothers and sisters.

 

[Sahan Dragr]

Spoiler: Equipment

SHIP:

• "Ure'adtr" Howler Basilisk War Droid​

ARMOR:

• Besk'gathr Mk III​

WEAPONS:

• Tusurki'aa Ta'hye Beskad​
• M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol​
• "O'dteyase Saranuhlr" Modified Vora-Class Verpine Hand Cannon​
• M.I. Model 12 shatter rifle​

ITEMS:

• AXC (10)​
• Mirshir Ka'esr Binders​
• Irya'kadir Smoke Bombs​
• Sasori Last Resort Cannon​
• Ring of Vision​
• Runi Ticu'r​
• Rulariyi Mandalorian Sunglasses

AMMO:

• Gas Canisters (12)​
• Slugs (100)​
• Grulyr'bedtr CryoSlugs (1 Mag)​
• RB-02 "Salt" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• RB-04 "Droid's Bane" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• RB-03 "Force Breaker" Rounds (1 Mag)​
• Tracyn'wuta Pyro Slugs (5 Mags)​
• Hurdisi Photonic Blackout Rounds (5 Mags)​

---

Sahan was always glad to see a familiar, friendly face. In all honesty, Sahan had couped himself up in his Factory and Lab when he wasn't out hunting, that he didn't see too many of his brethren. That was part of the reason he had decided to blow off steam and join these crusaders. And who better to supply some of his popular Crus-ade™ to than actual crusaders!?

"A deal, huh? Sorry, that was probably partially my fault. I threw a couple of their shark cousins at them. But hey, it was hilarious. And I understand. I think it was utter orbakshit that they stripped her of her clan name. None of it was her fault, and she atoned. That should have been enough.That's Clan Krayt business, though." Sahan dodged another swipe from a vibroblade and tripped the fighter, sending him stumbling into a comrade. Sahan just laughed. "You could always start your own or just stay clanless. I'd invite you to join mine, but that's up to Dad. And you might be a bit too wild for his taste. Hell, my Basilisk has too wild a personality for him!"

"We need to move, there's a massive group of 'em closin' in around the area. We'll be overwhelmed." He urged Sahan as he started to make his way to a nearby bridge. "Come on, let's move!" He gave the man a yank and made his way towards a safer position.

"Yeah," Sahan started. "That's the poin-" His sentence was cut off as Maji jerked him back. "I wasn't fething finished with them yet!" It seemed that Yuri was rather frantic, like he was not having as much fun as Sahan was. "Dammit, man. Look, whatever deal you were after, I'll make sure to make it up to you and get whatever you're after."

A few blocks later, a stray bolt smashed Yuri into the ground. With a pained groan he sat up to see who shot him. Another Mandalorian, standing tall against all the occupants of the area. "What's with you kriffers and fightin' solo today?!" He practically barked at both Sahan and the stranger.

Sahan just shook his head. "And why not? It's more challenging that way, and you can really let loose if you want without anyone catching a stray bolt." He motioned to where the Shistavenan had been hit. "And it's not like this is a particularly difficult fight." He smirked behind his helmet. "Ah well. I think he heard you, though." Sahan pulled his O'dteyase Saranuhlr and fired quick rounds of slugs at the Selkath storming the man, allowing him some room to run. "Looks like his jetpack is shot. How's yours?"

---

TAGS: OPEN
Yuri Maji Feydrik Munin​

 

[Carduul Akahl]

TAGS: Jenn Kryze
"Tion ke'gyce ner kad al'ijaat? (What guides my sword if not honor?)"
—Ancient Mandalorian Saying

It was curious. The Onderonion militia seemed to mirror the Neo-Crusader’s traditional methods of recruitment, bringing in foreigners to be led by a single squad leader. He would’ve commended it, if it was not put to such a terrible purpose. His own warriors fought with a limited amount of tools in comparison, but with unrivaled finesse in what they had on hand. The duracrete ran red, each side pitched in an unspoken battle of differing resolves. They were slowly pulling back, but their goal was only to delay them long enough - losing too many in a frivolous battle would only be a waste.

“To fight for them is to let them sit in their weakness!” He decreed in turn, as he whirled about to face her with a leveling of his weapon to point in her direction, uptaking a measured stance. “You only harm them by fighting battles they should be fighting! A planet in need of another's protection is forfeit.”

The lightwhip crackled to life, his veiled gaze flitting to assess the new threat in that briefest of moments of relative calm. He could not say he had ever faced such a weapon before, but he was far from rigid in his methods. “Even your very weapon symbolizes your misguided way.” Was his uttered statement, just as the exchange of blows started.

Many Mandalorians opted to fight through brute force, through gadgets and sheer firepower. Not him. Battle was expressed differently for him, compared to most - even among his own Neo-Crusaders. His lean body supplemented a unique elegance that his weapon portrayed, for both were flexible tools, one used in attack and defense in equal measure. A quality, he again noted, that seemed to be mirrored in his newfound foe. It truly was a shame they crossed paths as enemies, and not allies.

The woman lashed out in a devastatingly beautiful manner. An advantage the poleaxe held over a traditional blade was its range - it was only thanks to it he was not minced to pieces by the lightwhip upon its reveal, able to contend with it at a comparatively comfortable distance. The first crack of the whip was parried, narrowly flashing in front of his visor as it bended around his weapon with a shriek of metal against energy - what could’ve resulted in his eyes being blinded, if it had been but a hair’s breadth closer, the heat palpable even through his armor.

He could tell she was trying to keep him on the defensive, for her openings when she struck were obvious. Though with her assault, he could not capitalize upon it; each strike forced him to use the most precise movements to deflect and avoid them, rendering him unable to follow up. Each was too close for comfort, the strange weapon proving new enough to give him trouble - even grazing the armor a few times, scorching the crimson surface. He wasn't sure his armor could hold against it if it truly met its mark, for it was no true beskar'gam. Thus, he had to use more unorthodox methods - suddenly, his weapon drew away altogether with his body twisting aback with a twirl, briefly obscuring sight with his shoulder-cape. A short burst of movement that saw him disengaging from the light-whips range briefly.

In the middle of that brief concealment, he pulled back the haft of his weapon, one of his hands letting go.

It reared, the one-handed grip sliding down towards an end to give him just that little bit more range it needed, before being sent sweeping down towards her feet in an attempt to strike at the legs with the sharpened edge, or at least divert her attention towards it to mount an assault of his own. Like a viper, suddenly striking out from a coiled position.

His now-freed hand aimed for the tip of the light-whip, a wrist shield coming to life to deflect an otherwise crippling blow.

Words howled around him, and he remained steadfast in his ideals, in his resolve. It only steeled Carduul further. The Rally Master would not be swept away by one seduced by the Jetiise, fortunate his armor filtered out dangerous soundwaves. She was a worthy foe, indeed, but he could not look past the sins she had already committed in her actions. If she would not join their crusade, and even go so far as to stand in its way, then she would burn like the rest.

“Preach not of slavery to me, dar’manda. They will remember you, Jenn Kryze, as naught but a slave to others, a survivor disowned of their own soul and culture - for I will ensure history recalls thee as a cautionary tale!”​

 

[Zandra Ruus]

Perplexed was the best way to describe how Zandra was feeling, if the woman wasn't a Jedi, what was she? It didn't matter, she'd interfered with the battle, that made her an enemy. No one was going to harm her vode, be they Jedi, soldier, or mystery woman. Speaking of the opposition, seems Brooke had some surprises in store, which was saying something given her previous performance.

With the din of combat, it was impossible to hear what the woman was saying under he breath. What was clear was it was some form of magick! Brooke's Lance was now glowing with a beautiful blue light, it'd be breathtaking were it not pointed at her! With the two of them locked up like this, neither could gain any ground. That was if the glimmering lance was just a showy piece of equipment.

Thinking it was more dangerous than it looks, Zandra hopped back away from the lance-wielder. She wouldn't want to get bushwacked by whatever strange tricks the woman could play. Her brothers in arms had already underestimated the power of the witch, and suffered defeat as a result.

"Alright sparkles, whether you're a Jedi or not, I'm not going to let you get in the way! Now, either go back to your people, or show me what that glorified stick can do!"

Tags: Brooke Waters

 

[Careena Fett]

C a r e e n a _ F e t t

| Location | Ahto City, Manaan​

| Objective | Cover the retreat​

​

Careena's gaze peered through the scope of her rifle as she leaned against a pillar, the barrel of her weapon resting against her forearm. She was positioned high up in a building, concealed amongst its many floors as her aim drifted, tracking the movements of her fellow Mandalorians while scoping out for hostiles. The crusaders had been gaining momentum with every strike, garnering more and more support as Mandalorians heeded the call of the old ways. What was once a small rock was fast becoming a landslide with each deployment.​

​

Her breath steadied as her aim became fixated on a lone Feydrik Munin fending for himself. Despite the odds being stacked against him, he was not alone, nor would he be fighting alone. She would watch over as many of them as she could, and protect as many as fate would allow. The muzzle of her weapon shifted as she took aim, squeezing the trigger and swiftly adjusting her aim, repeating in rapid succession three times more. Four shots, and Feydrik would find his odds four less bodies in his favor.​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Factory Link
Weapons: Double-Bladed Lightsaber

Her senses and connection restored underneath the waves that surrounded the city, Valery turned her gaze up to search for a safe entry point back onto solid ground. Her hand already shifted down to her utility belt, searching for her grappling spike, but a sudden tremor in the Force alerted her to a new thread. Valery's gaze shifted down, right as yellow eyes appeared from the depths of the ocean, but she wasn't quick enough underwater to stop a pair of tentacles from grabbing each leg.

The sudden tug strained the muscles in her legs and dragged her down rapidly, increasing the pressure of water on her entire body. Valery fought and squirmed but could not escape their grip with brute strength alone. As a result, she thumbed the ignition switch of her weapon, relieved she had made it capable of working underwater, and swept the twin blades of her double-bladed lightsaber through their appendages.

Expecting the pain to briefly stun the beasts, Valery reached for her belt and launched the grappling spike up towards the surface. The sharp tip pierced into the metal platform and anchored itself, allowing Valery to pull herself up rapidly. As soon as her boots touched the sloped metal still underwater, she began to climb and used the Force to jump back out onto the road, closer to where Vince was fighting Sig Dryggo .

Drenched and with her hair looking like a wet cloak around her body, Valery flourished her weapon back into a combative stance and turned to face her opponents.

"Every second you waste, your escape window closes further," she reminded them, hoping to add a little more pressure on them that could drive them into impatient, reckless fighting.

Vince Trajan Fett Sig Dryggo​

 

[Liram Angellus]

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​

Gym, Zev, Rojuh… hang your carriers back and pound their fleet with the long guns and move the cruisers in straight ahead, fighters from either side. Make them choose what to defend.

Giving orders as he stood on the bridge of the 5th fleet’s flagship “Celestial City” looking over his “battle table” and giving orders to his command staff, Liram looked over the various angles of the fleet battle. They were trying to show some level of might, typical Mandalorian move, just “in your face” and “smashmouth” tactics, good in open combat on the ground, but using these orbital platforms was over the line.

Aye!

Aye sir!

Aye… Tactical! I want a firing solution on th*

“Conn tacitical! We’re getting readings from those orbital platforms! They’re powering up.”

“Treadstone is lost sir.”

Get the shuttles out to pick up survivors!

“They’re powering engines… they’re on an intercept for one of those platforms.”

They’re going for a tactical ram!

Furious that it had come to this, Angellus pounded his table, opening the “fleet wide” channel.

This is Admiral Angellus! ‘The Treadstone’ is moving for ramming speed against an orbital platform. Keep everyone non-aligned off of them! Captain Pouihl…

Sir!

Sorry, the other one. Scott! Where are those Stealth fighters?

Feeling a little shy!

I have a relic of a Mandalorian battleship they should meet!

Good mood?

They’re the older brother meeting the guy who embarrassed his sister.

Aye SIR!

The Mandalorians were raining down destruction on the planet below, causing widespread devastation and loss of life or at least that was their design. The heavy cruiser "Treadstone" had been hit hard by enemy fire, and its systems were failing rapidly. The captain, Commander Jaxson, knew that the only way to stop the Mandalorians from inflicting further damage on Manaan was to sacrifice his ship. With a heavy heart, he gave the order to abandon ship, knowing that most of his crew would not survive.

As the crew evacuated, Commander Jaxson and a small group of volunteers remained on board, determined to make one final stand against the Mandalorians. With all power diverted to the engines and weapons, the "Treadstone" accelerated towards the nearest Mandalorian orbital platform, intent on ramming it and taking out as many enemy forces as possible. The weapons were targeting other platforms. They were not going down without a fight.

Meanwhile, the rest of the fleet was engaged in a desperate battle to protect the evacuation ships and prevent the Mandalorians from regrouping. The Keldabe battleship "Stormbringer" was at the forefront of the fight, its powerful weapons tearing through enemy ships with deadly precision. The Mandalorians were not going to go easily either.

As the "Treadstone" hurtled towards its target, the crew braced themselves for impact. The ship shuddered as it collided with the Mandalorian platform, causing a massive explosion that engulfed both vessels in flames. The sacrifice of the "Treadstone" had bought the fleet precious time to regroup and launch a counterattack.

Spoiler: 5TH FLEET

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

Carrier group Virtue- Commanded by Captain Zev Tantor - NPC
Silver City
Rancor
Treadstone

Carrier group Power- Commanded by Captain Rojuh Pouil - NPC
Valhalla
Nexu
Black Briar

Flagship Escorts
Liberty
Profligacy

​

Spoiler: 103RD TACTICAL AIR WING

Air Wing - Commanded by Scott Puhil

103rd Tactical Starfighter Wing
Jackal Class Starfighter (piloted by SCAR Group)
Super Archangel class Multi-Role Fighter/Interceptor
Seraphim Class Long Range Heavy Interceptor
NC-1000 X-Wing
Soverenignty Class Heavy/Assault Fighter
Elysian class Stealth Strike fighter
Carcharodon Advanced Stealth Strike Fighter
AMF" Y-wing Bomber
Warpig Close air Support

Spoiler: 73RD MARINE BATTALLION

​

Marine Regimen

73rd Marine Batallion - Commanded by Lt. Colonel Telaskta - NPC
Marine Carrier/Transport/Lander "Stellar"
Seraphim Marines
Powered Armor
Cherub Troop Transport
Cherub Gunship
Saraquael Fighting Vehicles
A-2319 Tanks
"Haniel" Tank Mk II
"Gundark" Multi-Purpose Vehicle
Jackhammers
"Mauler" Class Mobile Command Center
Auromated Skycrane Heavy Transports

Spoiler: BLACK OPS/SPECIAL FORCES

Special Forces/Black Ops

SCAR Group (Black Ops)
Captain Ewan "Raider" Isaacs (SCAR Group Commander - NPC)

Omega Squad (Naval Special Forces)
Captain Aien "Azrael" Mueller (Retired - Former CO - NPC)
Lieutenant Bren "Michael" Alazar (Commanding Officer

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Manaan
| Objective | Coruscanta a'den mhi, Vode an!

Jenn had been a Crusader, once.​

​

Perhaps that was why she felt such searing hatred for the proud son of Mandalore who stood before her. In many ways, he represented a dark reflection, or perhaps a peer into what could have been, had she remained resolute in her devotion to the uncompromising ideals her foe held on to so firmly. Her time spent as a true believer of the same cause her foe championed was reflected in her tactics; a selfless defender of the weak she may be, the Alor of Clan Kryze borrowed a fair few concepts from the same people she fought so fiercely. The Hastati were proof of that.​

​

Some may have called her a hypocrite for it. Others may very well just find her efforts laudable, and her philosophy consistent; although her passionate speeches spoke of embracing the future, the mighty warrior held on to those traditions of her people she deemed compatible with the new philosophy she sought to instill among the ranks of her warriors. Only a few years prior, Jenn would have fought shoulder-to-shoulder with Carduul, and called him a brother... a bitter truth which only fanned the flames of her rage.​

​

"There is but one word for those among the strong who prey on the weak, dar'vod; cowards!"​

​

All around her, Jenn's warriors threw themselves into the fray, their mission now terrifyingly clear; they were not here to deny the enemy their hard-won loot. If anything, those among Carduul's warriors tasked with escorting the shipment to the extraction point suffered the least; even as they suffered truly harrowing casualties, the warriors of Clan Kryze kept on drawing closer and closer to the encircled foe, using their numbers to keep the proud inheritors of the ancient way of Mandalore on the defensive as they sought to close the gap and crush them unto the self-same anvil of war the boisterous Crusaders regarded as the ultimate test of one's worth.​

​

A sentiment Jenn more than agreed with.​

​

"This weapon is a token of the bond I share with the Grandmaster; a reminder of all our people can accomplish if we let go of past hatred, and dare to fight for a brighter future!" There was passion in the Alor's voice, and something cut its way beyond the roiling hatred within her heart; an unshakeable belief in the promise of a brighter tomorrow. With the siren's answer came an elegant blow delivered by her lightwhip; yet another deadly arc was sent towards her foe, caught by the Crusader's poleaxe in an impressive display of skill; what would have been a killing stroke was lessened into a glancing blow at the crimson plate he wore so proudly. Furious with the blind devotion of her foe as she was, Jenn was not yet beyond a pang of admiration for his skill as a combatant, if nothing more. Just as Carduul thought their similarities a pity, for the two may have been friends, she truly did see the necessity of his death as a waste of a good warrior. The Mandalorian people were on the backfoot once more, their numbers dwindling - and now, vod fought against vod, driving their proud culture faster still into obscurity.​

​

Although she firmly held the position of Alor of her Clan (disputed as it may be by Khamul Kryze ) through her wisdom, Jenn remained a formidable warrior, capable of defeating any who sought to challenge her rule directly; a fact that only made Carduul's performance all the more impressive. The use of a cape to mask the shift in his stance spoke of his superb ability to adapt in a fight, no matter how unexpected nor overwhelming the odds. The top of the poleaxe struck her greave, and the force of the impact all but stopped her in her tracks. Were it not for the hallowed beskar protecting her, the weapon would have pierced into her flesh, and made a victor of the Crusader. Immediately followed by a quick and decisive parry, this sudden counter-attack stopped the Alor's offensive, and forced her to reconsider; for her lightwhip was, although formidable in an all-out offensive, far inferior to the more conventional choice a lightsaber presented when it came to defense.​

​

Sensing a shift in the course of their duel, Jenn deactivated the lightwhip, returning it to her belt with a snarl as she activated her own wrist-shield - and, reaching out with her now-empty hand, the siren pulled a beskad from the grip of a dead Crusader through the Force, the weapon flying into her hand.​

​

"May they speak of me by a hundred names, and sing of my deeds for a thousand years; for I am Jenn, The Redeemer! My people will remember me not for conquest or bloodshed, but the courage to embrace our purpose as guardians!" ​

And with such a declaration, the would-be breaker of chains and hero of her people leapt forth; her diagonal slash, a feint, meant to obfuscate her goal to slam her personal shield against her foe's buy'ce. He was as cunning and agile as a viper, and leaving him with the initiative may very well just spell her doom.​

​

Carduul Akahl ​