Dominion [NEO] The Great Taming | [Dominion of Kashyyyk Hex]

[Nelliel Kryze]

MNV-52 'Beviin' Class Space Superiority Fighter

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| Location | Space, Kashyyyk
| Focus | Take out hostiles

Laser fire streaked across the infinite black as their ghostly glow was cast over the canopy of Nel's ship, narrowly missing her as she tugged on her flight stick to put her into a barrel roll, evading several shots while returning fire. An explosion bloomed in the distance as her shots connected, the Mandalorian pilot veering off to the side as her head swiveled around, looking for additional targets.​

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Nel held no love for slavers, but allying with the Trandoshans was the only reasonable route given the Mandalorian's shaky relationships with Wookies due to past factions' actions. She could at least grant the Wookies the honor of dying a good death if they engaged her. She'd grant the same mercy and honor to their evacuation vessels and spare them a life of slavery, but shooting them down was likely to gain the Trandoshans' ire. But perhaps an opportunity may present itself that could easily be waved off as an inevitable outcome.​

​

The Mandalorian pilot spotted an enemy fighter tailing one of her fellow pilots, laser fire chasing after them as they desperately weaved left and right to avoid getting shot down. Nel pulled a lever as her wings disengaged their forward position, swiftly rotating her ship before pulling the lever back to re-engage her wings into the forward position to put her ship in its most streamlined attack mode, pressing down on the throttle as her ship blasted off to pursue. Her reticule lined up with the hostile fighter, chiming as she achieved lock. She let a concussion missile fly, chasing after the hostile fighter who tried to bank left and evade, though unsuccessful as the missile slammed into their side and erupt into a ball of flame.​

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Her comms chirped to life as a Mandalorian pilot's voice came through, <"Thanks for the save Switchblade. He was stuck to my ass and I thought I was a goner.">​

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Nel responded, <"Thank me when we've made it out of this alive. Still got plenty of bandits to deal with, so don't go dying on me yet.">​

​

<"Copy that Switchblade, I'll buy us a round if we make it out.">​

​

She pulled up beside the fighter briefly, looking over as she gave a nod before the two pilots banked in opposite directions. Though she never liked to openly admit it, she did miss Kad's banter as her wingman, so until then she'd have to keep as many of her fellow pilots alive so that someday someone would be able to fill his shoes.​

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Carduul Akahl | Vreegan Fett​

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[Carduul Akahl]

Tags: Vreegan Fett , Nelliel Kryze​

Incoming fire diminished, but never departed fully. Tenacious as ever, those wookies.

“They’re maintaining fire, but it’s far from fully operational.” Intoned the sensors officer.

There was a nod of satisfaction from Carduul, gaze staring hard at the defiant station. He would have to put some stress upon the shields and hull, but he was assured it would be able to handle the damage. He watched as Vreegan Fett 's ship unleashed a hail of missiles, and thought that there was no better opportunity than now. “Very well. We’ll send insurance; a salvo with the Pods will do. Turn about to face forward, and get the lower decks prepared. Divert some power to the second deflector shield once finished. This defense will shatter as others have,” A hand swiped across harshly with the following order; “I want them to realize the full extent of their foolishness. Relay to the fleet to withold further payloads upon the station; we wouldn't want to lose our prize, would we?”

The skirmish line was holding well, but the Shyyyo Heart tribe saw the Kandosii encroaching upon the station. Whatever more ships that could be brought to bear, would no doubt come forward with the impending assault upon the station. Reserve wings were on standby, and he would have to have faith they would be enough when he kicked the hornet’s nest.

A metallic thud of his polearm, “Fire! ”

Spoiler: Fleet Actions

• Kandosii aligns front with station, unleashing a salvo of assault concussion missiles from the lower spire of the ship before diverting power to shields.
• Boarding pods are fired at the same time as concussion missiles.
• Fleet ordered to maintain suppressive fire upon the station but withold heavier payloads for sake of capture.

---

“Come on, vod! You wanna live forever?!” Called the Rally Master to his squadron. “Get moving!” Motioning the rest of the warriors in. The lower decks were awash with movement - torpedoes were being prepped in, he could hear the loaders maneuver the heavy shells into place. It eased some of his nerves to know the commander of the ship wasn’t deploying pods alone.

Shock-Trooper. That was the role of Tarrex Akahl. He had been on several raids before, but this was the first invasion he was a part of. At last, serving his intended role - a Crusader for their people, fighting for their future. He had aspired for some time to be put on the real frontlines of battle, and he got his wish. Even still, he couldn’t shake those instinctual worries. As if he was going into his first battle all over again, a fresh trainee fostered by the jungles of Dxun.

Boots clambered into 16-man pods. His squadron was prepped, tweaked armor shining as a mark of pride that separated themselves from the fresh recruits that had rapidly swelled their ranks of late. A loud buzzer sounded, and the door behind them closed. There was no going back now.

A sudden fwoosh of air sounded their departure from the vessel that housed them. For a moment, he felt weightless. Then, a lurch shook every warrior in the capsule, followed by a thunk as metal shrieked against metal in protest. Movement halted. The air was eerily still for a few more moments.

Then the pod opened, right into a hallway of the foe. Blaster fire whizzed through the air mere moments later - the first man out was struck square in the chest, but he charged over their crumpled form anyways.

“OYA!” He cried, followed by a resounding “OYA!” from the rest of the boarding party, as his finger pulled on the trigger and didn’t let go. Roars and shouts of war echoed from both sides. Resistance had already set up in the hallways of the station, bringing together whatever makeshift cover and defenses they could manage. Powerful bolts of energy flung sent another warrior flying back from his side, narrowly missing his own form before he ducked into cover.

He unclipped a grenade from his belt, primed it, and threw it over with all his strength. It sailed before landing in the center of the blockade - earning growls and roars of exclamation from the opposition before it went off in a blooming explosion. They were told to secure the station by any means necessary, and by Ha’rangir, he would do so. He peeked out of cover again, narrowly avoiding another bolt as he returned fire to the remainder of defenders in the hallway. A few more bolts to the chest, and the next wookie was down.

“We landed in the lower decks, so we’ll carve our way to the command deck!” Decreed his Rally Master, gesturing to the squadron amidst remaining fire. “Our fury will not abate!”

 

[Armel]

Lower Kachiro, Kashyyk

Armel watched through the sights as the Alor of clan Dryggo ripped across the sky. What followed was a tense few moments as the anti-tank gun fire stopped and then a bright flash in the distance. The comm unit rippled to life with Sig's voice.

<"This is Dryggo: keep pushing forward!">

That was their cue.

"Gun's down boys we're in the clear. We got to push up to Dryggo." he said with a grin under his helmet. As the tank lurched forward he felt his left leg bouncing incessantly. The adrenaline of a close call still surged through him.

"Ya know, back on Er'kit I killed a few folks." he said speaking to his loader. "For money of course, only business on the planet. I thought I was hot shit back then."

"Who we were doesn't matter, we're Crusaders now." his loader Veel said, his tone was almost solemn.

"Oh na, I don't got any regrets." he said while pulling his helmet off. He wiped his brow with his gauntleted hand and turned to the Zabrak "Running around the dark playing hitman ain't got nothing on this!" he said with a big toothy grin.

Shuk'orok was at the vanguard of the main force in the lower cities, blasting away at the stubborn Wookie defenders. Armel watched through the sights as he fired another round which directly impacted a Wookie, leaving nothing but pink mist where the giant being once stood. As they neared the giant platform that the Anti-tank gun Armel spoke into the comms.

<"Dryggo this is Shuk'orok, we've reached the anti-tank gun position, what's next for us?"> The neophyte's voice dripped with hunger. But in their excitement the action found them and Armel would soon learn a precious lesson about over-extending. Another ambush was sprung as a dozen wookie defenders emerged from around the tank. With concussion launchers they began bombarding the tank. Armel felt the tank dipped as the left repulsorlifts were damaged.

"How did they get their?! Where the hell's our infantry?!" he barked.

Vreel was peeking out the loaders viewports and he turned back to Armel. "There's only half a dozen of our Vod out there. We left the damn Rodians behind. Most of them are back there still looting." Armel grabbed the viewport and looked into the distance through it and watched as a few Mandalorians were pushing the Rodians forward. A lot of them had seemingly began adorning themselves with trophies and weapons from their fallen foes. They made for excellent marksmen but their discipline had left something to be desired.

They were on their own for now and so Armel slew his turret left and fired a HE round at near point blank range at a group of Wookies all the while ever blaster attached to the tank began opening up.

<"Scartch that Dryggo we're pinned here but we should be able to handle them."> he said into the radio and fired another HE round which sent a hail of wood splinters that peppered everything nearby. At least he hoped they could handle them.

Sig Dryggo | Open​

 

[Vreegan Fett]

Carduul Akahl Nelliel Kryze

Vreegan displayed an impassive demeanor as the missile assault struck the orbital station, disabling multiple turbolaser batteries that were targeting the Mandalorian Fleet. These events enabled the Crusaders the opportunity to conduct a thorough offensive on the lower decks, with the primary goal of capturing the command bridge and shutting down any communication with the wider galaxy in the event they called for reinforcements.

Once this location had been secured, the Wookiee Resistance would be compelled to surrender, thereby preserving lives that would be essential for the Crusade's future operations against other planets in in anticipation of a larger confrontation with the Alliance.

"Field Marshal Fett, we have a communication from Rally Master Akahl." a voice came from down below at one of the terminals.

"Proceed and make it quick, so that we may focus on the battle ahead of us." He observed the incoming transmissions on the tactical screen, which conveyed a straightforward directive: to refrain from any additional attacks that could further compromise the station. He raised an armored hand to his chin plate, contemplating for a brief moment while relishing the tumultuous atmosphere of the battlefield.

Cannons thundered against the hull, and point-defense systems effectively countered enemy starfighter attacks, aided by Nelliel Kryze

The station was expected to house seasoned Wookiee Warriors, who would prove to be a formidable counterpart to the Rally Master's Squadrons deployed on board, as they excelled in close-quarters combat and the station provided minimal opportunities for extensive maneuvering.

"Keep me informed of their progress, on board the station and monitor the holonet for any alliance signatures." His voice emerged from behind the helmet. The Alliance Fleet often resorted to deploying substantial battlecruisers to breach enemy formations, making them easily identifiable should they intend to intervene at the last moment.

​

The Turbolaser Batteries were swiftly dismantled from their mounts by the combined firepower of the Kyramud battleship, the Kal Kote, and the Kandosii. This destruction cleared the path for the Mandalorian assault on the orbital station, while smaller anti-starfighter point defense lasers futilely attempted to intercept the approaching pods.

They succeeded in destroying several of them by sending them plummeting into the atmosphere of Kashyyyk with a well-timed shot. However, a significant number of boarding pods successfully landed, penetrating the lower levels where the hangars were situated and allowed the Mandalorians to secure a foothold where they could launch further attacks on the defenders.

<< Intruders on the Station, Brothers fight for Kashyyyk !!!!! >> Commander Barocca pounded his chest with a forceful thump as he bellowed into the command console, the blaring alarms resonating throughout the station and signaling the security team to respond to an incursion.

The station shook from the heavy fighting on board as explosions rocked the lower decks, though the Wookiee Warriors would not be deterred using their powerful bowcasters, thermal imploders, and Ryyk blades to engage in blaster v blaster, and blade v blade in the small corridors, trying to push back Carduul Akahl .

 

[Ninurta Slaabur'r]

The Katarn crashed into him as he crested the pathway of the level above, pinning him on his back to the floor. Brent's rifle clattered away from him as the impact drove it from his hands. Fire exploded over Brent's armor as the Shyyyo warrior riding on the back of the Katarn ignited a flamethrower, dousing Brent.

Brent turned his Rayshields up to maximum to try to deflect the damage as best he could. The Katarn had pinned his left arm with its foot, and the weight of the beast kept him from pulling it free. Brent felt the pressure throughout his neck as it bit down on his helmet, trying to rip it off. His right arm was still free, and he reached across and grabbed the Katarn's leg that was pinning his arm.

Brent squeezed, and his crushgaunts caused the beast to rear up and squeal in pain as it let go of his head and bit down on his right arm. The Katarn jerked violently, and Brent's arm was pulled away from the beast's leg. Its other front leg grabbed Brent's right arm, pinning it to the ground.

The beast blocked its rider from using its flamethrower, but Brent was in deep trouble, pinned and unable to move. The Katarn roared in his faceplate as he commed to Ninurta Slaabur'r Ninurta Slaabur'r , "I need help Vod!"

A failure here would jeopardize the entire operation! Positioned on a higher platform, Ninurta assessed the scene below. The Katarn's rider spewed bursts of flame, narrowly missing Brent's pinned form as the beast kept him immobilized. With fluid precision, Ninurta holstered his sidearm, tightened his gauntlets, and activated his jetpack.

He leapt.

Winds tore past him as he descended, his form a streak of motion against the backdrop of the Great Tree's shimmering canopy. Timing was everything. The Shyyyo warrior noticed him too late. Ninurta shifted mid-air, angling his approach to land squarely on the Katarn's flank with a thunderous impact. The beast roared in pain and staggered, momentarily loosening its hold on Brent. Ninurta seized the moment, extending his vambrace to unleash a cluster of whistling birds at close range.

The miniature rockets streaked forward in zig zag patterns, targeting the Shyyyo rider weapon with deadly precision. The warrior's flamethrower exploded as the projectiles struck, engulfing him in a fiery blast that sent his charred form tumbling into the abyss below. The Katarn bucked wildly, but Ninurta's grip held firm. He wrenched its head back, driving the retractable blade on his gauntlet into the beast's exposed eye before sliding off the mount. With a howl of agony, the creature released Brent completely, staggering back as it clawed at its wound.

"Get up, boy!!!," Ninurta commanded sharply, practically hauling Brent to his feet with both hands. Brent Warnel

​

The Terentatek bellowed! Its massive form clawing and smashing its way toward the shield generator on the next platform. A torrent of blaster fire rained down on its armored hide, the Wookiee defenders pouring their arsenal into the towering creature. Bolts seared flesh and ricocheted off its thick, gnarled exoskeleton, leaving it steaming and scorched but undeterred. Flamethrowers erupted in waves of fire, engulfing the beast in a blazing inferno that would have reduced most creatures to ash. Yet, the Terentatek pressed forward, its deep, guttural growls rising into a frenzied roar. It batted aside attackers with its massive claws, sending them tumbling into the void below. Explosions rocked the platform as Wookiees hurled detonators, desperate to stop the unrelenting advance.

The beast staggered but refused to fall. Its claws tore into the wood of the Wroshyr platform, splintering it as it dragged itself closer to the shield generator. Sparks and smoke filled the air as defenders scrambled for their lives, their final stand proving futile against the nightmare given form. With a bone-chilling shriek, the Terentatek reached the shield generator. It raised its massive claw and slammed it down, shattering the protective casing with a deafening crash. Sparks exploded outward, and the generator sputtered before failing entirely. The once-imposing shield flickered and died, leaving the Great Tree vulnerable.

But the beast had paid a heavy toll. Its thick hide was riddled with wounds; its flesh charred and bleeding. It swayed, its strength ebbing as its monstrous form wavered on the edge of the platform. A final volley of blaster fire from desperate defenders struck its head and shoulders, and with a haunting roar, the Terentatek lost its grip.

It plummeted, its massive body tearing through the platforms below. Each collision sent wood and debris flying, the sound of splintering timber echoing through the towering canopy. Its shrieks of fury and pain reverberated like the cries of a dying god, growing fainter with every impact.


Tags: Droz Munin Feydrik Munin

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Tags: Vreegan Fett , Nelliel Kryze​

With the assault bearing down upon the station, the defenders were forced to make a move. They had coalesced around the station to try to intercept as many as they could - especially with the Kandosii relenting some of its fire to prioritize shielding. This was the expected reaction, the one which he would exploit towards victory.

Immediately, the skirmish line and the Kandosii was assailed by whatever battle-capable ships the wookies could amass. Sparks flew as more tangible damage began to become apparent.

“Shields at fifty-percent! We’ve lost power in sector five!” Called the sensor officer again.

“They are pressing their opening. Now is the time for our newfound allies to prove their worth.” He decreed, yet still in that stern and assured tone of voice. “A foe from a new angle will disorient their initial strategy.” Added with a touch of personal satisfaction.

A button pressed upon his wrist, and his hologram projected across to the bridge elsewhere. “Hrisssk, you are clear to engage.”

With the signal, several new ships had appeared upon radars from the direction of Trandosha, and immediately maneuvered into attack vectors. The Slavers who he had, very warily, kept in reserve from the main invasion force and auxiliaries. They were unpredictable, and inefficient to manage in the midst of a battle. This moment, he felt, would be the appropriate time. “Maintain the front. Prepare the dropships for atmospheric insertion so we may get support to our warriors as soon as we are able.”

The Slavers would claim their prizes - but not for themselves, as they thought they would. They would all belong to the Crusade, in time, either through demonstration or through force. It was not as if they alone would win the battle.

Spoiler

Fleet Actions:

• Small Blackscale Slaver ambush arrives from Trandosha to disrupt the enemy’s encroaching frontline, mostly comprised of nimble corvettes and strike fighters.
• Kandosii maintains position and focuses on absorbing damage as efficiently as possible through its powerful shield array. The skirmish line begins to struggle to maintain cohesion amidst the aggression.
• Wookie Offensive redoubles with the assault on the station intensifying.

---

“Fight on! For Mandalore!”

Loud clangs of blade upon blade echoed through the halls as they fought on through the station. To say it was exciting would be an understatement - such battles were picturesque of the days the Crusade had originally started. The hangars were overwhelmed with the troops that had gotten through the point-defense, intent on claiming vengeance in the name of those who had not. Skirmishes had appeared all throughout the station, duels to the death taking place in those smaller corridors.

Tarrex’s own vibroblade was locked with a wookie, suddenly pivoting about the towering opponent’s hilt to cleave into their shoulder. A roar emitted in turn, suddenly being backhanded into the nearby wall. Falling to a knee, his wrist came forward and blasted the raging beast just as it was about to deliver a killing stroke. They fell directly on top of him with a thud.

Blaster fire still raged around him from the other shock-troops, an explosion of a grenade in just the next hallway over. His own squad had taken losses. They were getting close, undoubtedly - several other teams had made it further, it seemed. The warrior hoisted the beast off, and himself up with a groan of pain from the force of the blow. A few seconds of panting, before he ousted himself back to rejoin the front.

Immediately upon rounding the corner with a blade in hand, the Rally Master in charge of his squadron had called out; “Up ahead, we’re nearly there! Once control is seized, glory will be ours!” A fist raised as they led the way forward with a repeating blaster in hand.

Wordlessly, he followed. None of them had spoken - there was no time for talk amidst it all. Only the lust for battle, for victory, of a glorious death. The control room was getting closer to them, locked down tight in preparation for their arrival. They would have to breach it to deal with the most ardent resistance.

“Ready charges!”

 

[Brent Warnel]

Each time the Katarn tried to bite Brent's head, he did his utmost to make it the most painful thing he could. He shook his head and tried to dislodge the Katarn as it attempted to end his life. The Katarn's teeth broke on his Beskar as he tried to stay alive, ramming his head into the beasts face every chance he could.

His armor was straining as he used all his strength to try to free his arms to be able to fight back. If he could gain leverage of his legs, he may be able to twist his body in such a way as to loosen one of his arms to fight back.

As his brain sent the impulses to his legs to try and re-orientate his body, Ninurta Slaabur'r arrived.

The Shyyyo warrior and Katarn were far too busy with Brent and paid the price for their lack of situational awareness. Brent heard the impact of Ninurta landing on the Katarn's back. He noticed immediately as the Katarn released him and reared up in the air. Brent watched as Ninurta dispatched the Shyyyo warrior with his whistling birds (He would need to remind himself to get one of those) and then stab the Katarn in the eye and land next to Brent. Ninurta hauled the big man to his feet, exclaiming, "Get up, boy!!!"

Brent smiled beneath his helmet as Ninurta helped drag him to his feet. He had not been a boy for a long time. Hearing the phrase took him back to when he was young and being yelled at for something like being late for school—no time to reminisce, though; a Katarn needed killing.

"Kandosii! He's mine now," Brent yelled at Ninurta as he charged towards the Katarn. The Falleen had given him a breather, and he wasn't about to waste it. Brent closed the distance and side-stepped a lunging bite from the beast. He delivered a thundering right hook as the beast retracted its head, knocking it off balance. It quickly snapped its toothy maw at him again, locking its mouth around his midsection and biting down.

There was a difference now; Brent was standing on his feet and not taken unawares. He could feel it flexing the muscles in its body, trying to drive him back down to the ground. His armor and body compensated against the Katarn's muscles, keeping Brent on his feet as the blades from his Crushgaunts deployed. In this close of proximity and with the Katarn locked around him, he couldn't miss. Brent's hands moved fast, delivering strikes against the Katarn's face almost faster than the eye could see.

Something deep within the beast's brain finally woke up to the damage it was taking, and it tried to let go and retreat. Brent moved quickly, leaping onto the neck and back of the beast. With one arm gripped around the Katarn's neck, he used the other to hammer his Crushgaunt's blade into the space where the neck met the Katarn's head. It bucked Brent hard, trying to throw him off, but he could feel it weakening as he continued to stab. Not long after, the beast collapsed with Brent on top of it, dead.

Brent let go of the Katarn and scanned the area, looking for his rifle and finding it not far from his position. He saw Ninurta had re-engaged the Shyyyo warriors and was leading the charge to the council.

Brent collected his rifle and checked the schematics for his jet pack. It was reading as "INOPERABLE" via his HUD. He detached the jetpack from his armor and noticed some external damage by what had to have been the flamethrower from the Shyyo warrior. Brent tossed it on the ground and collected one from a nearby Vod who would no longer need theirs.

"Thanks, brother," Brent told the body of the Neo-crusader below him as he placed their jetpack on his back.

Brent comm'd Ninurta, "Meet you at the top."

 

[Nelliel Kryze]

MNV-52 'Beviin' Class Space Superiority Fighter

​

| Location | Space, Kashyyyk
| Focus | Take out hostiles

Explosions continued to dot the infinite black as Nel's Beviin streaked across the void. She shifted her flight stick as she glanced through the canopy of her fighter, seeing the Kandosii starting to take more hits before her attention snapped back towards the vessels launching an attack against it. She grit her teeth as she focused up, taking in a deep breath as her heart pounding within her chest seemed to steady itself. She opened up her comms channel to the nearest bomber squadron, <"Taakur Squadron, form up on me. We're going to give them something other than the Kandosii to shoot at."> The bomber squadron immediately turned to get into formation, acknowledging the order as they readied their payloads. It was a good time to remind the enemy that Skull Squadron still lived on in Nel.​

​

She pushed down on the throttle as her fighter shot off towards the ship, dipping left and right to avoid being shot down by incoming fire and point defense systems, countering with a barrage of concussion missiles to soften and distract the enemy's defenses as they tried to track and shoot her ship down. Her Beviin glided across the hull of the ship, her laser cannons opening fire as they began to target the outer turrets. The bomber squadron trailing her were relatively unmolested thanks to her efforts as their bomb bays opened to unleash their payloads. Columns of explosions formed along the hull of the ship as bombs dropped, shattering shields and exploding against hull as they zoomed on by.​

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Carduul Akahl | Vreegan Fett​

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[Vreegan Fett]

Carduul Akahl Nelliel Kryze

An hour had elapsed aboard the Indomitable, during which the command staff continued their search for any indication of the Alliance Navy or the New Jedi Order. However, their efforts yielded no results as the tactical screen remained empty save for the few resistance vessels that remained.

This was particularly unusual for those who were regarded as the champions of light and arguably the most powerful faction contending for dominance over the galaxy's limited resources.

It is perhaps this context that led Hakon Fett to regard them as a negligible threat to the Crusade, as they struggled to assemble a legion of skilled professionals in their conflict against the Sith Empire and even the weakened Dark Empire, whose shortcomings became increasingly apparent with each passing day and even their status as a potential pawn was diminished significantly.

"Field Marshal, the Mandalorian Strike Teams are making progress on securing the station with resistance expected to fall by the hour and with the assistance of the Blackscales, our control of the atmosphere is almost assured." one of the officer's beckoned from down below, likely expecting him to be overjoyed or at least satisified with the efforts of the Rally Master as Nelliel Kryze moved past the command bridge in her starfighter, followed behind by the few remaining defenders though she could easily take care of them in a swift maneuver.

He was not bemused by such information, as Vreegan anticipated that each of the crusaders under his command would exercise strategic oversight on the battlefield. Allowing the enemy the opportunity to maneuver or direct their forces could lead to a loss in the battle, which was unacceptable, even when victory appeared to be well within hand.

"The Rally Master must do more than simply defeat the wookiee resistance aboard the station; he must also manage the flow of the battle effectively. Each vode lost to these mongrels represents a commando that could have been put to use against the Galactic Alliance and the Sith Empire, whose prowess is noticeable if unrefined." Vreegan remarked from beneath his masked helmet, a frown emerging on his face as he received updates from the different squads.

While they were achieving significant progress, they were also incurring losses, which left them not at full strength for future campaigns that the Field Marshal was planning for.

​

A lengthy, hairy appendage softly swept across the command terminal on the bridge of the Orbital Station, as Commander Barocca recognized that the moment had arrived for him to sacrifice his life in defense of Kashyyyk and the villages on the planet that relied on him to repel the Mandalorian assault and to appeal to the Galactic Alliance for membership for protection.

This opportunity might never present itself again, yet he felt compelled to act, as his comrades had fought valiantly in the corridors, displaying courage in the face of overwhelming odds. His hand gripped the two Ryyk blades positioned nearby, maneuvering them in his grip to assess their weight and discovering that they were impressively well-balanced, even by Wookiee standards.

He recognized that these weapons could inflict significant harm, even against armor forged from beskar. As the explosions reverberated against the bridge doors, the blast charges detonated with enough force to tear through them.

Causing a fearsome roar to bubble up from the Commander <<< ROAOAOARORORR !!!!! >>>, whose powerful exhalation echoed with a chilling intensity, instilling potent dread in the enemy before him.

Meanwhile, the other Wookiees behind him joined in with their own resounding cries, and surged forward from their positions for a final confrontation that would determine the fate of Kashyyyk forever more.

<<<< GGRRRRHHRROAR >>>>

 

[Feydrik Munin]

In the chaos of battle, there were those that played instrument, those that heard the music, and those that conducted symphonies.

Feydrik Munin had once been a man who only heard the music of warfare, the shrieking sounds and crashing crescendos. But now-
​

He orchestrated his own symphony, tearing, ripping, collapsing. The platforms crashing around him did not falter his attack, did not stem his brutality, his savage, pin-point accurate violence. The beast fell down, crashing through the platforms. Feydrik said a silent prayer, so that the beast, should it be dead-

Would rest finally, a warrior's death indeed.

He made swift movement upwards, his jetpack carrying him upwards. A Defender, a Wookie, turned to face Feydrik. Feydrik drove his crushgaunt to the Wookie's shoulder, eliciting a loud, terrifying roar. He followed up with turning the Wookie's weapon up- and Feydrik stepped on the trigger. The Defender fell below, still screaming, defying death even as he met it, plummeting stories below. Truly, the tales of the Wookies and those on the planet did not do them justice.

But it did not matter what stories that were told about them. What things were once true. There was only the carnage now, the reality. The Crusaders had come and they- they were unmatched. And they pushed on, pressing onwards to their goal, the shield generator. And they would meet it. They would take this planet, take it in the name of the Crusade. There would be victory today. No defeat, no heroic deaths and beautiful ends for Feydrik and his kin.

The Defenders had chosen their stand. But they had chosen poorly. Feydrik raised his shotgun to his shoulder and fired- sending another Defender, caught unaware by Feydrik's flank, tumbling below. He racked the shell, loading another. He was quiet in his voice, no war cries, no screaming, no lamenting on the radio.

Just his violence, just his anger, just his righteous crusade.

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Tags: Vreegan Fett , Nelliel Kryze​

Armor ensured those who had fallen could be patched up when the fighting was over. The powerful bowcasters, reduced to knock-outs with no time to finish most of the downed troops. Such was the power of swift assaults - if you didn’t give your enemy time to push back, the losses you took would be healed in mere time. What would’ve been casualties turned to injuries. Their escapades on Manaan and beyond had ensured they were well-stocked upon Medical Supplies.

But war was never without losses - to think otherwise would be hubris. The Ultimate understood that. Hakon Fett understood that. Now Carduul had learnt that, from the very first battle upon Manaan. War could be, in the end, reduced to a numbers game. This battle was not just a demonstration of Mandalorian grit, but of their resourcefulness. A test for the industrial war machine that was building in the background of their conquest covering for itself with each battle. He had ensured that from the day he had re-entered the Galaxy, and he had resolved to continue to build upon it.

“They’ve reached the bridge, alor. Breaching charges are being placed as we speak.”

“Good timing, t’would seem.” Carduul commented in turn, gaze turning to the brilliant stream of explosions caused along Nelliel Kryze ‘s attack run. A perfect opening to re-take the offensive now that resistance was crumbling. He would have to commend that pilot, later. “Re-allocate power to the weapons and fire upon the wounded targets until they cease attack. We are almost finished, here, but do not let down our guard. Maintain this position.”

He tilted, a hand gesturing across to the comms officer, “Inform the dropships they are clear to take off - the air support and reinforcements will ensure a victory if it is not already seized. Fighters are to run interference and ensure they are not intercepted.”

Gaze refocused upon the station. It was all coming to a close, and the punctuality of their victory would be determined by the outcome upon the bridge.

Spoiler

Fleet Actions:

• Power is re-diverted from shields to weapons after the crippling bombing run from Nelliel Kryze , and Turbolaser batteries open fire on wounded ships.
• Troopships that were held in reserve are deployed to breach the atmosphere to provide reinforcements and air support for the ground invasion.
• Fighters ordered to ensure the blocking of interceptors breaking through the skirmish line.

---

Beep. Beep. Beep.

BOOOOOM!

In an explosion of fire and smoke, the charges went off shortly after they were placed. Immediately following, Tarrex lobbed a flash grenade inside - for he doubted the wookies aboard the bridge were wearing much eye protection. Breaching into a room was easier than clearing hallways; the only challenge was getting past the bottleneck that was the doorway.

The flash sailed through the air, briefly rolling before a brilliant glare of light filled the entire room. That was the moment to push through, and so the shock troopers did.

Blade and blaster in hand, suppressive fire covered the entryway, keeping the wookies low to cover long enough for a sufficient amount of them to get inside. Then a great and terrible roar sounded out. Blades were drawn once more. Wookies came charging forwards. Mandalorians readied their melee weapons once more. Pitched battle unfolded all across the bridge - it may as well have been its own small battlefield.

One wielding a pair of the large blades, moving directly for Tarrex. The leader, it seemed. There was little time to react amidst the scuffle, but he managed so nonetheless. His blade came up barely in time to deflect the blow, stepping aside from the full force of the powerful arms that would’ve otherwise have crushed him.

Both hands upon the blade, he attempted a retaliatory strike in the lower leg - and he may have gotten a cut, but it wasn’t enough to cause an effect. Another powerful strike sent him skidding aback, doing all in his power to keep the blade from flying from his hand. Footwork adjusted, trying to stay light on his toes as his foe pressed on. Whenever there was an opening in the wookie’s strikes, he would exploit it, bit by bit. Any hit scored on him might well lead to his untimely end.

It was far from how warfare was typically waged amongst the Mandalorians of today - yet here they were. His blade tilted lower and lunged forwards in a thrust for the gut.

 

[Droz Munin]

[ Theme ]
​

D r o z _ M u n i n

| Location | Canopy Layer, Kashyyyk​

| Objective | Push through​

| Focus | Feydrik Munin ​

​

Droz looked up as he watched a Wookie plummet past him, screaming on its way down as he saw Feydrik and his shotgun making short work of whatever Wookie was unfortunate to find itself on the other end of its barrel. Droz chuckled as he twirled his blades in hand, ready for more bloodshed as he got his answer. If they were the last two of their squad, then they'd be sure to make it a tale for those who survived worth telling, a testament to the prowess and skill of Mandalorian warriors in their element.​

​

Droz gestured with his arms as he shouted at the Wookies, "Come on then! Who's next? Which one of you furry bastards wants to meet their end today?" Droz brought his blades together as metal struck metal, clanging loudly as he welcomed the challenge and thrill of battle. Just knowing that a Wookie had the potential to rip him in half if they got the better of him made his blood pump faster, and faster still knowing that he could just as easily kill them. It was a contest of skill and prowess, fueled by kill or be killed instincts.​

​

His challenge was met as a Wookie stepped forward, with a large club in both its hand as it let out a roar, swinging with their club with enough force to surely knock Droz out if it landed. Droz brandished his blades as he shifted his stance, quickstepping backwards to avoid getting knocked off the ramp as he seemed to gauge the Wookie's timing, taunting the Wookie as he did his best to dodge and weave, "I've seen Twi'lek swing better than that you ugly ball of fur.". ​

​

The taunts seemed to work as wild swing after wild swing came at Droz, seeming to put him on the defensive as he stepped back further and further with each. As the next swing came, Droz used one blade to parry the strike, shoving the club as it swung by with one blade as he lunged and thrust forward with the other blade, his jetpack increasing his forward momentum. The blade found its way through the Wookie's throat as it began to choke on its own blood, unable to retaliate and beat Droz into a pulp, the blade having found its way to their brain stem and severing it before the Wookie had a chance to recover from its parried swing. ​

​

Droz's jetpack-fueled momentum pushed the Wookie backwards as he was on top of it, roughly yanking the bloodied blade out as the Wookie just lay there, gurgling and drowning in its own blood. Droz panted as he raised his hand up to brush the front of his helmet as he held his arms out. He lived for the moment and the thrill of battle, and embraced it in all its glory.​

​

Ninurta Slaabur'r | Brent Warnel ​

 

[Ninurta Slaabur'r]

Ninurta stood back for a brief moment, observing Brent Warnel savage strikes with the precision of a predator assessing its pack. Brent, fueled by the raw adrenaline of survival, drove his crushgaunts into the Katarn's thick hide, splintering bone and sinew with each blow. The beast roared in defiance but faltered under the unrelenting assault. Its rider, dislodged by Brent's fury, scrambled to recover but was swiftly silenced by a brutal strike. With a final, resounding crack, Brent dispatched the Katarn, its form crumpling under the sheer force of his relentless strikes.

Ninurta smirked beneath his helmet, the faint hum of his visor's interface sharpening his view of Brent's aftermath. "Impressive," he muttered, adjusting the settings on his vambrace before taking off with a burst of his jetpack. "Let's see if the Elders have half the fight this beast did."

​

The wind howled past Ninurta as he ascended toward the next levels edge where the Elder Council resided. The structure, carved into the mighty branches of Kachirho's Great Tree. Below, the chaotic battle raged, Mandalorian Crusaders clashing with fierce Wookiee warriors. But Ninurta's focus was singular: the Council.

Take them and from there things can go smoother.

He landed on the platform with precision, his boots thudding against the wood. Before him, the scene was a maelstrom of conflict. His vode, armed to the teeth, fought valiantly against Wookiee defenders. Their war cries blended with the thunderous roars of the Wookiees, the air thick with smoke, sparks, and the acrid tang of blood. As he reached the heart of the platform, where a cluster of Mandalorians struggled to contain the Wookiee Elders, Ninurta shouted above the fray:

<<"I need the Council alive! Less than lethal measures only!">> The order was clear and the position held by the elders was well fortified, but surrounded on all sides. Much like their culture and way of life, it seemed they too were prepared to risk their lives to avoid capture.

 

[Phelixia Skirata]

Objective:
BYOO ​

Amid the chaos stood a tall, insectoid figure encased in the custom contours of Neo-Crusader armor. Its yellow plating had been meticulously modified to accommodate Vratix alien physiology. The helmet, sleek and angular, allowed their compound eyes a full field of vision, though the delicate motions of their antennae were restricted, confined to narrow grooves within the helm. Even their mandibles, crucial for subtle expression and sensing, moved stiffly, barely brushing the interior of their protective casing.

Yet, despite these limitations, Phelixia functioned with robotic efficiency.

A wounded Neo-Crusader was dragged before them, his armor scorched and blackened. Blood leaked from a jagged rent in his side, pooling on the forest floor. "Doc! Got another one!" shouted the injured soldier's comrade. Phelixia turned sharply from the their prior patient, their insectoid posture eerily rigid. " Paitent exhibits hemorrhagic instability. Viability threshold critical. I will Initiate corrective measures."

Their voice, projected through the helmet's modulator, was cold and monotone, lacking the warmth or urgency expected in a healer. The Vratix species did not speak basic and thus relied on tools such as vocabulators for common speech. With a single fluid motion, they knelt. A claw-like appendage extended from the arm-mounted medkit on their gauntlet, delivering a bioscanner to their hand. The device emitted a faint hum as Phelixia swept it across the soldier's body.

"Diagnosis. Shrapnel embedded near hepatic artery. Secondary fractures in the ribcage. Beginning procedure now."

 

[Brent Warnel]

Ninurta Slaabur'r had activated his jetpack well before Brent and was already leading the push towards the Elders. Brent heard Ninurta's voice through his comm, "I need the Council alive! Less than lethal measures only!"

Brent understood, killing the Council now would beyond jeopardize the mission, they couldn't afford a mistake this last into the assault. He activated the borrowed jetpack and launched towards the treetops where the Elder Council and their final defenders had dug in and were fighting. Brent landed behind Ninurta, following the Falleen's lead as they pushed towards the defenders.

Brent's rifle dealt death to the unlucky Wookies who had not fallen back towards the Elder Council, picking off a few stragglers here and there who were attempting to fight back. There were small clusters of fighting here and there, but like Ninurta, Brent largely ignored them and pushed towards the heart of this vast structure carved into the Wroshyr tree.

The Council was near the middle of this platform, and Brent pushed forward with several other heavily armed Mandalorians led by Ninurta. Once they got close to the Elder Council positions, he took cover in some cargo strewn around the area.

The Elder Council and its last few defenders had no such order for less-lethal, and their bow-casters and rifles spat deadly bolts at anyone in their sights. Brent couldn't risk picking off the few Wookies left that weren't the Elder Council for fear of injury to them, so he went to work with his rifle set to stun.

White-blue bolts lanced from his rifle toward the remaining Elder Council guards, causing them to maneuver or risk unconsciousness. The more he shot, the more those guards had to readjust their position, leaving themselves open to other stun bolts from the other Mando'ade in the area.

With the vod around him sensing victory, it would not be long before the remaining defenders and the Council lay at the feet of the Neo-Crusaders.

Droz Munin | Feydrik Munin​

 

[Kei Amadis]

Location: Silver Rest Temple - Stealth Field Up, Signal Jammers On.
30km's South at the Silverback Bunker Complex
Shadowlands Thick Jungle
OOC:

Spoiler

With Permission for future plot hooks, to be continued! Units Mentioned 91st Houks | Wildcards

"Evacuation is all but complete. Command wants you on the last transport, then the exit gets sealed."

"This is my home." The silver-haired Jedi Master's voice was calm but firm as he worked the holomap, tracking the crusaders' advance and moving any remaining tribal leaders ahead of the coming storm. Kei had fought beside crusaders before—as allies. Now, they came as conquerors. He'd not leave again like he had on Voss.

Never enough time, the Crusaders were fast, effective, just like he remembered. Wookiees didn't fight retreats, not willingly, but the Wildcards did. Harass. Withdraw. Harass. Withdraw. Bleed the enemy before striking back from dense, concealed terrain. Clever, staged attacks, masking numbers and keeping their opponents off balance.

For now, stealth generators and a dead sensor zone kept the Silver Rest and Silverback Complex hidden. But it might not last forever. Too many people had known of it once upon a lifetime ago. A datapad arrived. Kei took one glance and nodded. His children were safe. His wife with them. He exhaled, only now realizing he'd been holding his breath. Then he turned—hands clasped behind his back—taking in the motley crew before him.

Old Wildcard unit commanders. Aging veterans and fresh blood alike. His crew Zacka. Patches. The Wookiees he trusted most, like Hayk with his Silverclaws, and at the back the towering 91st Houks, each nine feet of walking devastation.

"The hell are you still doing here?"

"Disobeying orders." Vertigo's deep, rumbling voice came as the Houk locked his oversized weapon into place.

Kei closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly again

"What do you say, young'un? Got one more rebellion in you?" Zacka leaned on his cane, old as ever but never too old.

A wide grin given, no point arguing. "Just like old times. Blow the connection. Send our apologies."

A deep boom echoed through the temple. The offworld exit from the Silver Rest collapsed in on itself—severing any direct link to the rest of the Order. The SJO were safe. Kei and his people were not.

He smirked at Zacka. "Wife's giving me hell for this one."

"Pity she ain't here." Zacka slapped him on the back, but a big part of Kei wished she was.

So began the resistance. The crusaders had barely touched down when rear lines began to be hit. Sabotage. Ambushes. Unseen small tribes rising from the trees. A war waged from the shadows, never where they wanted it.

They'd come expecting a fight.
They had no idea what they'd walked into.

To be continued.