Rebellion Operation Beskar Falls

[Kreslin Westwind]

Today was the day.

Kreslin sat alone in the small room. He was hunched over a chair, his elbows resting on his knees. His hands were folded together, right over left, and he used them to prop up his head. His left foot tapped slowly against the durasteel floor, the echo bouncing around the dimly lit room. The only sound except for the roaring of his heartbeat in his ears.

The Mandalorian Union had known the Sith were coming for Myrkr, the temporary capital of the Union, for a few days. There had been talks of committing all their limited forces to the defense of the planet; of fighting the Sith tooth and nail on the forest home of Clan Australis, and preventing them from taking another world from their people. Many had called for this action, a chance to fall in glorious combat defending their new home as they had once done on Manda’yaim herself. To fight with honor against the blood enemies of their people on Myrkr. To exact their revenge against the Darjetii, the Sith.

Kreslin had denied them that chance.

He had rallied his people. All those within the Union that could be spared and all the allies they could muster had answered his call. They had come to Myrkr, forming a single, great fleet above the forest world. The might of which had not been seen by the Mando’ade for months. But it was not to defend Myrkr that this fleet was mustered. When word came to them that the Sith armada had begun to move across their borders into Silver Jedi space, he had ordered the Union fleet to move out. They had left Myrkr and the bulk of Clan Australis behind when they departed. They had left the home they had known for months, and set out of what could very well be a suicide mission.

The door to the room Kreslin was in slid open, revealing a Supercommando of House Awaud standing there. Light from the opening poured into the room, illuminating Kreslin’s helmet where it sat on the desk. He did not look up as the warrior took a step into the room, his head bowing only briefly before he spoke. “Warmaster, we are entering the system.”

The simple statement drew no response from Kreslin for several moments before he lifted his head, glancing briefly at the Supercommando and giving the man a nod. The warrior stepped out of the room, letting the door slide shut once more and casting Kreslin back into the darkness of his own thoughts. He pushed himself to his feet. His pure white armor, repainted following the decision that led to this day, creaking as it shifted from where it had settled. Reaching down, he picked up his helmet and tucked it under his left arm before making his way across the room, opening the door, and stepping out into the brightly lit bridge of the Darksaber, his personal flagship, and the first of the Ba’vodu class vessels of the Mandalorian Union. And perhaps the last to ever be built.

He walked down the length of the bridge slowly, his eyes taking in the crew as they went about their various tasks, each of them wearing their own personal clothing rather than a set uniform. Some were in armor, and others in little better than farmers’ garb. There had been no time when the call had been sent to prepare a uniform, and so they had to make do. The sight brought a new wave of doubt to his head as he came to stand at the front of the bridge, his eyes looked up as the trailing lines of hyperspace began to vanish, soon replaced by the empty void of space. Around them, the rest of the Mandalorian fleet begin to exit hyperspace.

The doubt that had plagued him began to vanish as he looked into the darkness of space. He stared at the single, tiny object just beginning to become visible in the distance. It was no more than a spec now, and every few seconds Kreslin would lose track of it. But even from this distance, he could feel a rush of belonging flood through him. He could hear the songs of his adopted people in his ears, the smell of the fires as they feasted, and the sense of unity that had once belonged there. In the distance, Kreslin could see Manda’yaim. The home of all Mandalorians, both those born within the people, and those that had been adopted into it, as he had.

“Open a channel to the rest of the fleet.” His order cut across the background murmuring and sounds of the bridge. Kreslin had to wait for only a moment before the communications officer nodded to him. He paused for a moment more, gathering his thoughts as the few remaining vessels in hyperspace exited into the formation.

“Warriors of the Mandalorian Union, my brothers and sisters, and all those who have chosen to stand beside us this day, the time has come. The Sith will soon be nearing Myrkr, where Clan Australis will draw them in and keep them busy. They will bleed their fleets and armies dearly for every kilometer of space they take, and buy us the time we need. The Sith will not have missed our arrival to the system, and what forces are still available will be mustering to stop us. The odds...are stacked against us this day.”

He paused then, his eyes traveling across all those in the bridge around him. When he finally spoke again, his voice took on a firmer tone. “But, our people have never shied away from long odds. The majority of the Sith forces are elsewhere, committed to another war. This gives us a chance we have not had, until now. We will advance on Manda’yaim. Our fleet shall tear apart anything that stands in our way. Our warriors shall land upon the soil of our homeworld once again, and the cries of our enemies shall be drowned out by the righteous fury of our cause.” Kreslin paused, his right hand tightening beneath his cloak as he looked into the distance.

“Today, we strike back against those who sought to destroy us! Today, we will repay the debt that is owed to us a hundred times over, and then a thousand times after that! Today, we shall show the galaxy that the Mandalorian people are not broken. We do not kneel to others! Today, we take the fight back to our enemies, and show them the fury they have brought upon themselves. Today, we retake our home!” The final words were torn from Kreslin’s mouth with a roar as he lifted his free hand into the air. The action echoed by all those on the bridge, their voices ringing in the closed space as Kreslin reached down and grabbed his helmet. Slowly, he pulled it on over his head, the voices of his people still echoing in his ear as the helmet locked in place.

“All ships... begin the advance…”

------------------
Only gonna tag the staff of both factions here to avoid a three page long list and risking forgetting somebody.
Torrack Torrackstur
Venku Bralor
Jaster Awaud
----
Ellie Mors
Telis Taharin-Zambrano
Darth Prazutis
Taeli Raaf
Quinn Varanin
Madelyn Lowe

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire, Overlord of the Eternal Empire, the Emperor's hand
The Red Witch; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Rizûti Kûts, the Black Death - The Foundry, Mandalore
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | 2x red blade lightsaber shoto | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Shield talisman | G1 OmniLink | BCR-X10 Sniper Rifle | Empyrean gland | Taozin amulet
Tag(s): Sidiqq Ordo

Background music:
Sabaton – Rise of Evil​

Mandalore, she hadn’t really been on this planet before, especially not here around the mines, but now she had a meeting with someone. She had to come here because of Drox, so she was not present as an official Overlord, or Empress Regent, but as CEO of the HPI Consortium. The Drox was the mining subsidiary and it would have been good to have a great business relationship with a company that also mines beskar metal, given the importance of the material.

Since the planet was quite harsh and the place was too, the woman arrived in armour and with weapons. Just because she will be joining their approaching fleet within days to head to Myrkr to help the TSE in the siege. So, as soon as she has finished the negotiations here, Ingrid will also go to the rendezvous point to the forces of the Eternal Empire, who has been waiting for their Regent. Now arriving in her newly made armour, Myrkr could have been the perfect rehearsal to inaugurate it. Anyway, she's only tried it on tests, not in real combat yet.

In the negotiations, she did not expect a result yet, as this was the first meeting, but in any case everything turned out to be positive enough and the locals were also open to continue all this. So with that promise, she set off back to the ferry she had arrived with. Around the planet, a smaller diplomatic ship with the insignia of the HPI Consortium awaited her, not arriving by warship, only discreetly as a noble and businesswoman. At that time, however, she received a message from the captain of the ship.

<”Overlord, unknown ships stepped out of hyperspace and headed for the planet. They are not TSE-marked, they are hostile. It is no longer safe to leave the planet based on the previously submitted coordinates, we are expecting an orbit where you can join us!”> the woman received the message from one of the officers.

<”Here is the Overlord. I took the message and acknowledged it. If you are attacked, leave, I will join the Fleet in other ways!”> she replied

<”But Overlord… the STRATCOM never…”>

<”I don't have to repeat the command Captain, the STRATCOM is not here. You received a direct order!”> she said coldly interrupting the captain.

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[Lirka Ka]

Location: Concordia, Fortress Imperious

The nobility of barbarians, no. It was not nobility, it was the stupid instinct of a horde of rats. That's all these mewling insurgents were, rats that screamed and cried over their defeat and annihilation by her hands. She still took a great pleasure in purging Moridinae; a clawed gauntlet ran over a slew of bones built into the armrest of her throne. The last remnant of those who hadn't stood against their first foolhardy attempt to retake her world.

But.

The blood of Thustra ran hot in her veins still, and the boundless spite of Lirka Ka began to take hold, bubbling like viscous darkness: her eyes glazed around her throne room, around Fortress Imperious, she had called this place her Palace, her "home". But she supposed the Barbarians would do the same with their meaningless rocks. The hulking Sephi rose now, as alarms ringed of the fleet's approaching presence.

They wanted their planet? She would give it to them. She would give them nothing but misery and the ravaging hordes!

Lirka's voice thundered, her indomitable will echoing across the half-dead world and it's moon: all would obey, or they would face her flaming wrath when this was through.

"Today! The Barbarians return to take their home, and they shall find only suffering, and only sorrow! Begin the evacuation, empty the museums as quick as one can, then progress to the civilian populations of Moridinae. They shall find no quarter from our kin. Detonate all mining facilities, that of their precious "Beskar" that we can not ferry offworld we must eradicate."

She took another step, the fire within rose to an inferno once again. Her lust for battle, her lust for pure and unadulterated carnage took hold of her unnatural form.

"Lower the gates! For today, Moridinae dies! And in it's place, rises New Gratos ascendant! Let the hive feast on the blood of the invader, for dub all of this world your home! Cast off these barbarians! Give them no quarter in the glory of New Gratos!"

It seems Lirka had thought about this before, her words reaching out to rally the massive Graug population in the north to war: with that most benevolent of rewards, the entirety of the planet. But still...she had invested so much into this-most-worthless of worlds: so much to hide away, and so much to reduce to ash and cinder. Two black armored legionnaires, one of her personal contingents that the Moff had come to favor after their brutality in inflicting the Mandalorian Genocide.

"Spread the word, there is much to be done. We will destroy the installations on this moon when the time comes, prepare to synchronize all reactors for detonation: and if our cannons still have ammo within them, we will destroy that too. Leave nothing for the vultures to pick through."

Her heavy footfalls began to echo through the halls as the trio made their departure to eventually join in the wider battle: wherever that would come. Cold and furious determination seeped from Lirka's words as she issued her final command: it was time to unleash her ultimate spite against the Mandalorian menace.

"Awaken the Children, tell them it is time for war. Evacuate those not already suited for combat...and execute those we can't bring off-world: they will understand the necessity of this ultimate sacrifice."

And with that final, grim, command: Lirka knew it was time for war.

 

[Adenn Kyramud]

The call went out and Clan Mortui answered. They had waited, rebuilding and preparing for this day to come again. It mattered little to them how long it took, because they knew they would be there again. They also knew that they wouldn't be leaving the planet this time, not unless they won. To that end, they had prefab bases prepared to drop onto the planet, just in case. Granted, Adenn suspected it wouldn't be necessary, but he also knew that it was better to be prepared. As it was, Clan Mortui was ready within the hour of the rallying call going out.

Warriors donned their armor, war machines were prepared, and transports were set. They weren't as numerous as they had been, but they were close. And for what they lacked in numbers, they more than made up in experience. Nigh on every warrior ready to march on Mandalore had fought in every invasion since they had joined the Mandalorian Empire, the same as Adenn. Those that hadn't, well they had experience in later invasions, or in pirate fighting missions. And in the end, that's all these Sith were. Glorified pirates, taking from others to give to themselves.

Aboard Clan Mortuis flagship, a Keldabe class battleship named Aegis Mortum, Adenn stood in the center of the bridge. Looking out across the breadth and width of the fleet, he smiled. This would be a glorious day, one remembered as the day their shame was ended and new glory attained. Accepting a datapad from one of the officers, Adenn's smile grew as he saw all that he had at his disposal. Though their fleet had shrunk, they had kept the strongest ships and most versatile ones. On top of that, the ships they'd scrapped had helpd boost the numbers of their other vehicles and heavy armor. All in all, it was clear to Adenn that Clan Mortui was ready for war.

With that happy thought, Adenn opened a line to his entire fleet and every last Mandalorian present.
"It's time my aliit. This day we head to Manda'yaim once more, and we will push the Sith back. It's all or nothing vode, and we are going all in. They will regret taking the Mando'ades home from them, regret betraying us, and regret ever, every challenging us! To war my aliit, my vode. We fight on this day and we shall break them wholesale! For our aliit, for Mandalore!"

That cry was picked up by every last Mando in the fleet and those remaining behind on their home. The cry echoed throughout the ships as Clan Mortui neared the systems edge, and continued as Clan Mortui's fleet entered hyperspace. Soon they would arrive at their destination, soon they would have their vengeance, and soon they would pay the Sith back for every drop of blood lost. For their aliit, for Mandalore.

Allies: Fellow Mandalorians
Enemies: Sith and their allies
Vehicles: | Hellwalker | Titan Tank | Protectrak | Assault Speeder | Heavy Walker | Hell's Angel |
Troops: | Beskad Warriors | Beskad Elite | Tracyn Mirshko |
Fleet: | Keldabe Battleship (x1) | Kanjiklub Deceiver (x2) | CR90-Corvette (x4) | Black Death (x1) | Kom'rk (x6) |
Tags: Kreslin Westwind | O Omegon (will add more as it's more obvious to see who's going where)

 

[Siv Dragr]

V E N G E A N C E

Objective: Avenge Clan Dragr
Allies: Sidiqq Ordo
Enemies: Cara Dorniarn | Ingrid L'lerim | Lirka Ka

Mandalore.

The last time Siv Dragr had been on Manda'yaim, it had been when he had been sent off into the galaxy to find his path as a warrior of Clan Dragr. That had been the last time he had seen members of his Clan, seen his father and mother, seen Norg Bral. Now they were all dead or destroyed, and Siv's home was little more than desiccated earth pockmarked with craters.

The Sith had brought this ruin to his home, backstabbing his people in their most vulnerable hour.

And now, they would pay for every inch of Mandalore with their blood.

The Blood Eclipse rocketed through Mandalore's low atmosphere, flying through the dense smog that seemed to now be Mandalore's only weather. Siv had fired on all of his ship's stealth countermeasures, including its cloaking device, evading the brewing naval battle over Mandalore's atmosphere. Siv was not some hotshot combat pilot, nor was his ship something that was suited for large-scale naval engagements. He wasn't about to sacrifice his life in a meaningless engagement in the sky; it was on the ground where he could actually fight.

Siv had pledged his gun to the cause of the Sons of Mandalore, but this attack was not being led by Kestus Bralor and their Neo-Crusaders. No, it was the move of the Mandalorian Union, the opposing faction that had visited the Enclave before to discuss a possible underground network of refugees. Chu'mar, the Quartermaster had called it.

Technically, Siv was not supposed to be here. He had other duties, to the Enclave, to the rebuilding of Mandalorian society.

But he would not let the murderers of his Clan go unpunished.

He had grabbed some intelligence and readouts of the planet before he'd made his way to Mandalore, including the detail of a Sith Foundry that had been made to steal the Mandalorian Iron and pervert it for the use of the Darjetti. He would go there, he had decided; and even if he were the only warrior fighting against a hundred, he would be fighting with all the spirit of a Dragr.

Circling overhead, still encased in the smoke being belched from the foundry below, Siv cursed to himself. The Sith had flattened the surrounding area for miles around; there was no way for him to land in an unseen location, and landing in full view of the mine's defenses would be paramount to suicide. Doing a double-read on the factory's layout, he noticed a set of hangar bays carved into a cliffside, armored and closed. A mad thought came to his mind; Siv might be able to make it in, but he'd have to lure out whatever ships were in the hangars -- presumably fighters -- to get them to open.

It was an insane idea. But almost insane enough that it might just work.

Siv rotated in his seat, flicking off the stealth systems of his ship and diverting their power to the Blood Eclipse's weapon and shield systems. The ship was not meant to be a fighter, and it only had two forward laser cannons as means of armament, but they would have to do. His ship more than made up for that lacking with its speed and maneuverability, which would be crucial in making it into the hangar bays.

Dipping below the clouds, he aligned one of the massive doors squarely in his sights, Siv's thumbs pressed down on the trigger, sending a volley of bright laser bolts to slam ineffectively against the blast doors of the hangar bays, sending up sparks and a massive crack that reverberated through the atmosphere as they impacted. They had barely scratched a dent into the solid hangar bay blast doors, but that hadn't been Siv's goal. Under his helmet, he smiled as the alarms began to sound and the hangar bay doors slowly opened to reveal a squadron of Sith fighters, undocking and preparing to shoot whatever assailant there was out of the sky.

Siv smiled under his helmet, a sadistic grin that was invisible to all but himself. He immediately pressed down hard on the stick of the Blood Eclipse, and it leaped forward in response, accelerating at a rapid pace almost unbelievable for a ship of its size. The Sith fighters began to respond with some alarm when they realized Siv's angle, but by then it was too late. Siv fired another volley, slamming laser bolts into two fighters as the burst into flames and dropped from the sky. He was now only meters from the hangar, so close -- suddenly, a Sith Fighter in what seemed to be last-minute desperation slammed itself into the side of the Blood Eclipse, shearing off the left engine as it did so.

The size of the Blood Eclipse in comparison to the fighter saved it from destruction, but Siv's body was still thrown by the impact, his seat straps barely holding him in his chair. The gunship began to spin as it lost equal propulsion, Siv fighting to regain control of the ship. In a drift-like curve, he managed to edge it into the hangar bay, where it unceremoniously rolled on its side and slid, crashing through parked fighters, crews, and vehicles. Siv's vision swam as he tried to keep conscious, knowing that losing consciousness would mean death out here.

He drew his knife and slashed through the straps fastening him to his seat, steadying himself as he began to navigate the overturned gunship. The Blood Eclipse was in a pretty poor condition, and he doubted that it would fly again. That meant there was only one option out of here.

Victory.

He sheathed his knife and drew the TKO-20 Valiance Heavy Blaster Pistol, flipping off the safety. He was now in the thick of it, and he would have to be prepared to face down anything up to the entire Sith Empire if he wanted to remain alive.

And personally? He welcomed the challenge to kill as many Sith as possible.
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[Jaster Awaud]

- Mandalore...

- When was the last time he had seen the homeworld in which he was born too. So long that the memories were not all there, clouded in the fog of death and time it was impossible to remember. However, the women he followed was still here, she gave her life for the Mandalorian People and sought peace with the Sith. That was a mistake he wished he had voiced early on as a member of the Alor Council. This was the time for him to regain the honor he lost that day by not being there during the Siege of Mandalore.

- Jaster walked along the bridge of his Battlecruiser, The Ba'buir, it was a formidable ship and a gift from an old friend as she could not join in the fighting. He looked around at the bridge and saw many familiar faces, all were a member of House Awaud, as was most of his fleet. Some spots were taken over by Droids but Jaster trusted them more then those outside his family. He walked to the Captains chair at the center of the bridge on an elevated platform, it was wider then most and looked to support the Alor's massive cybernetic frame. To the right of the chair stood a tactical droid that Jaster reprogramed and rebuild himself. Twoozer of the United Trade Conglomerate Droid Army, a capable officer that had fought along side Jaster since his exile from Mandalore during his youth.

- The Cybernetic Mandalorian, wearing full armor and standing next to the chair looked out to the would be battlefield. "Admiral Twoozer, has the full force of the fleet finally exited Hyperspace."

- The Droid did not look to the aging warrior, looking at the battlefield, calculating every possible maneuver and outcome before the battle even began. "Yes sir, the Unionist 1st, 2nd, and 4th Fleet as well as the 2nd Support Fleet and 13th Medical Battlegroup are in assigned positions," The droid paused for a second and then nodded, "All fighters and bombers are ready to launch and awaiting command."

- Jaster slowly nodded as he moved to sit on the Captains Chair cross legged taking up all the space the chair had to offer. He raised his hand above his head and waved it forward. "All ships advance."

- The bulk of the Fleets moved forward to get in position for the troops to land on the planet. Twoozer saw a small gap in the Siths defenses and moved in to take the advantage. The droid raised his hand and sent out the Order, "All Fighters Launch and punch a hole in the defensive grid."

- A swarm of fighters left the carriers and began dog fighting with any opposition. House Awaud pilots were some of the best in the galaxy, they fought for many nations during their tenure as Mercenary fighters, and this forged each and every one into veteran warriors. The Awaud Superior Wing was also the best fighter for their abilities. Jaster looked up and gave his order, "Bombers Launch, begin bombarding assigned targets and second wave of fighters provide escort for the Ground Transports." He looked over to one of the warriors that were standing on the bridge, "Inform the Ori'ramikad Dar Cuyir and the Honor Guard they have a green light to drop."

- Kreslin Westwind and Venku Bralor knew the plan, the Supercommandos and the Honor Guard had their missions and they were in a keen place to get the job done. They would have the support of Adenn Kyramud and his fleet as well as the Support Fleet and the Medical Battle Group for the invasion. His job was completed once they were landed safely, then he would move onto his next objective. Talon Richwood along with Aloy Vizsla and Shai Maji would drop with their Platoon of Supercommandos with their own objectives. Once they were clear and the logistics train was complete, he just had to await any pressure the Sith Battlefleet would send.

Spoiler

Jaster Fleet Comp
1x Mephirium Class Battlecruiser
3x Jaraden-Class Fleet Carrier
4x Ba'vodu Class Cruiser
5x Solace-Class Heavy Cruiser
10x Jansserie-Class Shield Corvette
10x Arbitrator-class Missile Frigate
15x Dakkafort-Class Corvette

Support Fleet
3x Samaritan-class Medical Cruiser
5x Tegaanalir-class Medical Frigate
3x Lucrehulk-X-class bulk freighter

Fighter Wing
29x Squadrons of Awaud Superior Wing
10x Squadrons of A'den Class Starfighter
10x Squadrons of TCW-09 Bomber


Ground Forces
MandalArms Drop Pod - Supercommando and Honor Guard Drop Pods
Volcanic-Class Dropship - Special Force Dropships
Snapper-class Armored Transport - Main Force Dropships
Liburna-class Low Altitude Dropship - Droid Dropship

F-29 Fortress Bomber - Ground Bombers
Bo-Katan Droid Fighter - Ground Droid Fighter

Post Breakdown

Spoiler

- Jasters Fleet entered the system and moved in to allow the Mandalorian Land Forces the brief window to land on the planet.

• Fighters along with Bombers were launched to support the invasion.
• The Fleet took a defensive stance while the invasion of ground forces began.

 

[Aloy Vizsla]

Spoiler: The Way of The Ghost

TAKE BACK WHAT ONCE WAS STOLEN​

Equipment: Thousand Degree Blade(Beskad), "Hissing Ghosts"(x2), Modified NN-14s, "Banshee"(Sonic Disruptor Staff), TTOT Scatterblaster, Vibro Switchblade, Chainbreaker, Furies(X6) , "Sabbath", Beskar'gam MK2. ​

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Allies: Jaster Awaud Darsch Vizsla Talon Richwood Shai Maji And any True Mandalorians to stand with us this day.​

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Enemies: The Sith and any who would stand against the free people of Mandalore.​

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Through Death and Destruction have I walked this path alone. A lone wolf, ragged and beaten. Honourless, Lifeless. A Ghost.
No longer. With Vod an, We shall descend upon Mandalore, Where the Empire shall know us as Angels of Vengeance. With Beskar and Steel we will carve out the Dark Disease from our shores and Carve our names into the annals of history. Come life or Death, I will fight beside my Vode. In life I will celebrate our victory over the Witches in the halls of a home built anew. And in death, I will welcome the embrace of my black clad vode in the halls of the honoured dead. I will welcome Death, For I have finally lived.

Vode An.​

Her mental speech resonated within her mind like chimes in a quiet temple before a storm. None would hear the words of this Ghost today. They were for none but herself. She sat there in the Drop Pod, Eyes closed behind her Skeletal Helm, A reminder to all who had forgotten to fear her kind, That Death followed the Mando'ad like the moon follows the sun. A reminder to herself that death was inevitable, And that she must live a life worth living while she still can.

Across her lap lay the Ta'raysholan Siver Kal, The Beskad of her long last clan, Recently returned to her by the Illusive "Mirrorman". Since her meeting with the illusive figure, She had been reinvigorated by the prospect of rebuilding her clan and reclaiming her honour. While she could not yet build her clan anew, Her honour was her's for the taking, Far down below her on the surface of Mandalore. Though she wished to reclaim her true homeworld, Concordia, And walk the halls of the Cin'Vode one last time, That was not her place. Jaster Awaud had entrusted her to lead 25 of House Awaud's Supercommandos in the initial assault on Mandalore, An honour that confused but humbled the woman. Such trust had been laid upon her fur clad shoulders, And she would ensure that trust was well placed.

Spoiler: The Drop

<"Ori'romikad, You are clear to launch."> The droid's voice echoes through the pod across the commlink.
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She looks up suddenly, Removing the Beskad from her lap and sheathing it in the magnetic scabbard across her back.
All around her in the pod were the black and white Buy'c of the Supercommandos she had been trusted to lead, All looking to her, Expecting some form of speech or encouraging words from the infamous "Johayc" or "Spoken" in mando'a. But Joti had changed.

<"I'll see you on the surface."> She says over the commlink to her men and to her vode, Talon Richwood , Darsch Vizsla , and Shai Maji with a low nod before punching the drop button beside her, Causing the entire pod to lurch downward suddenly before the magnetic clamps had finished their release, Sending the pod falling into the weightless vacuum for just a moment before the thrusters kicked in, Sending the pod hurtling through the stars and into the atmosphere towards. Towards home.

 

[Talon Aegis]

Spoiler: Theme

Jaster Awaud Aloy Vizsla Shai Maji Darsch Vizsla

Equipment: The H1 ; Orcrist Swords (Beskad) ; HX Revolver ; Beskar'gam (Wrist flamethrower and wrist cable variant) ; Jetpack

Honor, death, war, all things known to the Mandalorian race, many clans had fallen due to power struggles, and others to themselves. Though it had happened many times, they never tended to learn from eachother's mistakes. It all was the cycle of how life was on a planet filled with weapons. Peace was a lie to many people, others fought to take it in, try to force it on people. In doing so more war came from it, Talon always found it ironic how what we try to protect, is what tends to destroy us.

The planet of Mandalore had seen fighting day in and day out. Invasion after invasion, as factions pulled at eachother to get a piece of the planet. Eventually there will be no planet left to give. This struggle of power needed to be put back into the hands of those who had lived through it, the ones who had fought across its surface with eachother, until they were too weak to fight those above. The Sith were going to watch their armies burn.

Looking at the men he had been assigned through his thin visor, Talon spoke, "<Men and women, we fight not for what we want, we fight for what we believe in. Surrender means death, or worse. If you back down now I won't give it a second glance, but understand you will be a coward, not willing to stand with his vod when they needed it most. In battle... we are reborn.>"

With the statement, the men held their weapons high and shouted, "OYA!"

A grin crossing Talon's face he turned, "<To your pods.>" Walking to his he walked alone, his pod the farthest down, his grin cracking to a chuckle as he opened it viewing its contents.

Jaster Awaud had given the man twenty-five commandoes and two drop pods, not to mention he stood on a drop pod filled with torpedoes. One of the drop pods for him was going to be a deathtrap for those under it.

Talon stood on top of his pod, pressed against the ceiling, his jetpack giving him little wiggle room. For the beginning he will be alone, he is going as deep in as he can to detonate the content of the pod in their army. He had asked the other leaders to control his men until he made it back. Sighing he opened his comlink and said, "<If this goes wrong, I wish for my epitaph to read, 'He died a glorious death in a ball of fire.'>"

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[Darsch Vizsla]

Allies: Anyone who is fighting for the freedom of Mandalore

Enemies: The Sith and their Allies

Forces from Krieg: 590 Deathtroopers, 800 Legionaries

Ships from Krieg: 1 Pelta-Class Assault Cruiser, 3 CR-90 Corvettes, 3 DP-20 Frigates, 2 A-Wing Squadrons

Home. After many years, Darsch was returning home though to liberate it. She was fine with it and was ready to fight the Sith who had taken much of what she had away from her. This battle was going to be the greatest she'd have in her life. It was of great importance that they succeed despite being outnumbered. The Sith had no spirit of battle. They only seeked to spread their Cult across the galaxy not caring who died in the process. She wasn't going to give mercy this day, no. The Sith deserved what they had coming for all they've done to the Mandalorian people. They deserved to die for what they did to Krieg. They took some of the finest warriors in the galaxy and killed them without any sense of honor.

Before the Battle, Darsch made trip back to Krieg after three years. The Imperials had taken over and streets were patrolled by children in white armor. She didn't like the Imperials but accepted that they didn't hurt anyone on Krieg. She assumed what was once Krieg's great military was all but reduced to shambles but she was wrong. She knew the remainder of her military would be reduced to nothing but a planetary militia with small numbers but she still tried. Her armor was dented and covered in burn marks, its paint chipping away and her left cybernetic eye was exposed due to a large crack in the helmet revealing her burnt and scarred eye area. This had changed, Before the battle, Darsch had made it to the Enclave and had her armor repaired though she left the part of her helmet that was cracked unpainted to signify the scar and the loss of her eye. To show the pain.

It wasn't hard to find what remained of her forces. Once she arrived at the Militia building, the news of her return spread like wild fire and hundreds of her former troops came to her in her time of need. They listened to her call to arms, to a call of reclamation. It was time for them to reclaim their world. Old Ships were dusted off and armed. The Deathtroopers of Krieg were back and ready for business. As Darsch waited for the drop she got the notification of the fleet exiting lightspeed and joining up with the main fleet. The Blockade Runners would carry the troops. A smirk grew on her face as she heard her men arrive.

<"Corvettes, You are tasked with transporting the troops into the atmosphere and past that blockade. Then air dropping them into the coordinates I've highlighted. Pelta, Gunships, stay in space and join the fleet in the space offensive. Keep your eyes open, sith may send a fleet to try and stop us. Good luck.">

She said into her comm piece to her fleet.

<"Understood, Warmaster. We will have your back.">

​

Said an officer of Krieg. Soon the three corvettes would make a dash for planet going fullspeed with their A-Wing escort. Darsch would listen for a moment noticing that the drop was to begin now. She shuts the hatch to the drop pod and felt it get lowered down to the bottom of the ship. Then the drop. It was an exciting feeling for Darsch. Adrenaline was filling her blood as the pod fell towards Mandalore. The Blue Mandalorian would feel the drop pod enter the atmosphere and begin burning moments later slamming into the ground and the doors coming open. Darsch drew her two new SA-44 Blaster Revolvers spinning them around then aiming them around.

<"I'm on the ground. Begin deployment..">

She said before rumbling filled the air as the three CR-90s flew in air dropping in troops using parachutes. They were escorted by one of the A-Wing Squadrons. Soon the Deathtroopers and Legionaries had landed. After the troops had dropped, The Corvettes would return to space to rejoin the fleet.

<"Joti? Come in, where are you?">

Darsch contacts Joti as a fire team of Deathtroopers comes over to Darsch's location.

Aloy Vizsla , Talon Richwood , Shai Maji

 

[Shai Maji]

Allies: Aloy Vizsla | Talon Richwood | Darsch Vizsla | Jaster Awaud
Enemies: Sith
Equipment: Blitz'gam armour for this fight | weapons in bio | Mando vambraces in bio | Crushgaunts included | Jetpack included
Current objective: Don't die

Theme​

Shai could describe herself in one word at this moment. Terrified. She was a smuggler, a pirate, a scumbag with a heart of gold... who could also pilot a ship like nobody's business. She wasn't a fighter. No matter how much training she did with KRagr or talked to the others, she wasn't a front line fighter.

But now she was.

She lit a cigarette and took a long drag. This was the third one in a few minutes. But she needed everything she could to calm her nerves. Her heart thumped in her ears as sirens wailed, troops ran around and people got ready for war. People were giving pep talks and others checked their gear for probably the fifth time. Looking down, she noticed that this cigarette was also done again. She was about to light another when she received word that she needed to get to her pod. With a nod she made her way to the pod where she met up with Joti and other troopers. She checked her gear again. The armour was new but she was used to the weight by now. It was only for this mission, nothing more. She didn't care what armour she wore, as long as she got out of the fight alive. Her SFP was on one hip and Aerith's SR-17 was on the other, with a number of explosives neatly hidden in pouches. Her rifle was on her back and her other gear was in place. She brought along a few gadgets from her Beskar'gam for the mission that would hopefully be useful.

Not caring about the rules, she lit another cigarette as she entered her pod. As it sealed up, she was left with the other members of the squad. However the only thing she could hear was her own breathing alongside her heartbeat. At least she knew she was still alive if she could feel it. As Joti gave her pep talk, she nearly flinched from anxiety. "Ma raised a queen, not a chicken. Let's do this already." she spoke to herself as she slipped on her helmet. The pod released finally, throwing them into the thick of it. She wasn't a religious person, but this was probably the one time in her life where she was praying to whatever was listening.

Hopefully it all goes well...

 

[Kytana]

Location: Assembling Ground, Northern New Gratos/Moridinae
Objective: PREGAME
Tags: Lirka Ka

The assembling ground had fallen into silence.

The holographic form of the Moff, Lirka Ka, was projected across the stage for the warriors of the Dark Legion to bear witness as the imposing woman delivered her exhortation in a thunderous voice that seemed to echo for miles beyond. Even lined up near the very back, assembled in a formation with the Scout Corps, Kytana could hear the Moff’s voice as if she were standing next to her. She couldn’t help but to find herself enthralled with the woman’s words, as slowly the scouts and warriors around her began to shout, slowly building a harmony of war cries to fill the void of anticipation in the air. Kytana soon followed suit, crying out just as the Moff gave the order to detonate the mining facilities.

However, the volume of the shouts, cheers, and battle cries from that moment did not compare to the ovation that erupted in response to what the Moff said next.

"Lower the gates! For today, Moridinae dies! And in it's place, rises New Gratos ascendant! Let the hive feast on the blood of the invader, for dub all of this world your home! Cast off these barbarians! Give them no quarter in the glory of New Gratos!"

Kytana had never heard a louder noise over the entire duration of her short life as the formation of assembled Graug warriors exploded out in a booming chorus. All around her, warriors cheered, beating their weapons against their shields, giving savage rally cries, and thumping massive armored feet in a violent rhythm. Kytana added her voice and body to the chorus, small and high-pitched as it was, yet nonetheless ringing out in elation at the revelation that all of New Gratos would finally belong to the Dark Legion.

And to celebrate the momentous occasion, they would fight.

Similar assemblies had transpired all across the Northern Hemisphere of New Gratos, as it was not practical to gather the billions of Graug on the world in a single area. Nevertheless, at that moment, the entirety of the Legion had been roused to war by the Moff. The thunderous battle cries of the Graug would echo in response as if to shudder the earth, the energies of the dark side coiling in anticipation of blood as the Dark Legion marched into war...

 

[Sidiqq Ordo]

Location: The Foundry

Objective: Lead Clan Ordo and union forces to victory and capture the beskar mine

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gear:

- Durasteel Armor: Nothing special
-Sniper: https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/snips-sniper-blaster.53663/
-Side Arm: https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/westar-blaster-pistol.114798/
-Grenades X10: https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/ba-h377-browncoat-forcebreaker-grenade.29907/
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Forces:

Motorized tank infantry using this tank: https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/buurenaar-class-tank.143717/

A more Elite Platoon under the direct command of Sidiqq: Made of mostly snipers and infantry, were assigned to assault the hanger and create a distraction. However, with the plan being botched. They will be gathering new orders from the reptilian himself.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Allies: A rogue mandalorian with big balls Siv Dragr

Enemies: Ingrid L'lerim Cara Dorniarn
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There were five phases of the counter invasion, should any of these phases be botched. It could cause the rebellion to fail before it even began, hissing and breathing silently the hunter would now analyze the battle field. Almost like a serpent when it came to the mannerism in which the body would move for the sniper, his eyes looking at the facility through infrared vision. Had their not been a bucye guarding his pale orange eyes, individuals would see those pale eyes come to life as he took advantage of his race's gift of infrared sight. Sniffing the air as the battle continued raging while most of the newly landed troops began meeting at the location of Sidiqq's more elite outfit. While most of the A'lors forces were still landing, the sniper and scout had chosen to be risky and scout the area without help. Such rash behavior could have gotten the rough skinned shadow warrior killed, had it not been for his rather unique training and skills.

The original plan had been to crash into the hanger, have his men distract the enemy, and then sneak into the shield generation and temporarily disable it. This would have allowed for the rest of this attack force to easily take the facility with the numbers they had. It was a good plan, especially accounting the graceful feet of the stealthy combatant. However, the tall and lengthy being would spot a rogue ship off in the distance crashing into the hanger while the fighters were launched forcing a lockdown of the hangers. In anger, the usually quite and almost cold being would hiss loudly and sharply at the sight of this plan leaving the proverbial window. "HIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSST Siqiqq's plan botched, new ssssst plan needed. Connect to holo channel Sidiqq will. " .

If anything the now angered mandalorian would be more relentless then before when getting into that damned facility. The trandoshan's were known to have a cold and calculating mind when it came to hunting prey. The idea never changed, while others viewed battles like this one as a free for all. The scaled and armored individual like most trandoshans just view it as hunting large groups of prey. Today, those large groups would be the dreaded sith and their allies inside that damned mine. Tho this was more personal, these monsters were using beskar, the metal of the mandalorian culture. To create weapons to hunt them down, such a twisted and corrupted use was heresy in the now bright eyes of the reptilian hunter. While this would be enough to enrage most, the cold blooded being would prefer to hunt them slowly and to make them suffer if possible. While rash, rage would be of no use to the dexterous being.

Most A'lors would give great speech's that were long and lengthy. This was not one of those A'lors , "Sidiqq see sith, the only good sithsssssst is a dead one. Sidiqq says let's hssssst kill them!Get shield down Sidiqq will, then great hunt for you!" . Hunter's like this did not believe in wasting too much time on a speech when that time could be put into killing prey. But speech's helped raise troops morale, something the efficient being saw value in. Despite the few amount of words, they were well delivered getting many in the right mind to kill. Getting on the comm's to the fleet hoping either Adenn Kyramud and Jaster Awaud would respond the A'lor would create a distraction with their help. In a uncomfortably calm voice the request for help would be relayed. "Sidiqq Ordo, A'lorhhhhhsstttttt of Clan Ordossssst , Sidiqq wants airstrike. Distract the foundry's defenses.".

Should the airstrike be accepted, the reptile would lead his team of warriors into the forge of the foundry. As that looked to be the best way of entry, his eyes had spotted a vent that went directly to it while scouting. With all the distractions, this would allow his team a free pass into the otherwise well secured facility.

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

3 days ago, imahalyan

The subtle clicking of parts being put together sounded from her little shop in her house, before her laid her normal load out of her two westars, her new Sabers, her sword Nova, and her Armor sat on its stand freshly cleaned and repaired.as she finished on her sabers she sighed and stood turning to see her daughter who had silently been watching

your still going aren't you?

Stardust at first didn't say anything, moving to her armor as she started getting it put on, after a minute she spoke

mandalore is poised to be freed, the sith are spread too thin...and before you say it I know the risk

Present time

She had he normal load out, sitting within a pod with the others, nervousness shook her before she quelled it as she closed her eyes and calmed her nerves, her armor had been painted red for this occasion bearing no symbols of any clan just pure vengeance. As the pod rocked as it was shot she felt a pull...and began to change her course towards the ruins of sundrai palace where she felt this presence

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

N I G H T S I S T E R S​

​

Ah this presence! Whomever could it have belonged to, Stardust Solus Skirae ? Le Mistress Malcontent, perhaps? ​

Pom was not forewarned about the attack upon the Sith owned planet, by her demonic minions who do not venture far from her presence without direction to do so. And frankly, the spirits could have cared lesser regarding such a place as this. The Nightsisters led a seclusive provincial lifestyle, but they were quite savage without all the tech and do-hickey, thingy-m'baubs of other cultures. She held to the idea that were the Mandalorians shucked from their armor, they could likely be quite average. However could they not be, as a people who are not force sensitive, nor learned in Witchcraft? ​

She had heard of the disturbance through normal channels and just materialized to investigate and determine how she shall assist the Sith. From where she stood, she looked over the land and "Well, I'll be," she said as pods all over were bringing in the Mandalorian infestation. "A full scale invasion." ​

She had only two counts of meeting Mandalorians before, —in fact, it's almost like they never left,— and she has no typical opinion regarding them. They seem strange…very, very strange. She cannot seem to figure them out. They seem intelligent to a degree, almost. She might even say they could maybe even seem moral to a degree, but the terms by which they stood for something seem so mentally exhausting to try and fathom! She did not know anyone else who could be like that at all!!!​

And then…just like that…there is a Force Sensitive dropping down among them. Pom quirked a brow while they rushed from the pods, and stood her ground as a few of the Mandalorians rushed straight for her. She waved her arms outward, thrusting the Force outward to meet them. The gust caused them to instantly fall back and fumble over one another. She physically held them away from her when she noticed the other force sensitive visually fixated upon her.​

Pom stood and focused on this curious being in return.​

_______________________

_______________________​

edited for clarity.

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

Her pod crashed into the surface, the door was pushed off into some unlucky sith trooper as he flew back into the crowd of them, out in her red painted armor stardust came as she stood tall and drew her sabers activating them as she gazed at the odds...outnumbered...if she wasn't a mandalorian that is. She started slowing walking towards them making fire appear to either side of her, they charged and yet something held them back...glancing around she spotted this person and raised her head curious why this sith would stop her own troops.

you either must be surrendering or wanting a fair fight, to which I applaud you, but I'll hope instead you'll surrender so I do not have to stain this ground further....otherwise I'll scorch the earth you and your troops stand upon

Stardust would wait, wanting to see what this one decided upon

Pom Stych Tivé

 

[Darth Assimilus]

Location: Mandalore, Gruag encampment
Objective: Gather in numbers.
Enemies: MU, TSE, Everyone
Allies: Slaad & The Rancidus Order

Mandalore.
​

" The winds howl for change." A whisper spoke into the breeze.

Two days before....
​

A Pale painted man smirked to himself crouched against cargo and shipment contains of a customized shuttle. Leather bound clothing covered much of the mans features, though a distinct metal band with stud spikes encirling around his eyes was a more prominent detail for him. A miraluka with style. This was what he said when asked about his eye-band. " I agreed to be your doctor for a single trip, not be interview." Adjusting his doctor robe he then chuckled and walked away with a slight stumble. Leaving the crew to eat the slop they all called food. A near empty vial of fluid rest in the doctors hand with a slight grip. At a microscopic level once could of saw the evil that sloshed about but to the naked eye? Who knew. Environmental and system scanners had been disabled for the time being as well. The only droids aboard were load lifters and they spoke only binary.

"Hey Doc, Whats that for? Why is it that color?" A man asked passing the Miraluka. There was an unease to the mans voice along with concern. Then suddenly as if he realized what he said he attempted to correct his question and wording. " Oh its not that. Uh. It looks nasty you know? I dont know if you can see it, No offence Doc..." He was cut off.

" Its essential enzymes and nutrients processed several times over and stored in liquid form. A liquid state makes it easier to preserve in long travels." The miraluka gave a stoic expression underneath his leather face mask. " No offence taken. Its not like I can see the color anyway."

" Well thats why I-" He was cut off again.

" I took the liberty of collaborating with the chef and mixing it with the food. It has no taste. Dont worry, Dale." And with that He took his leave.

Mandalore was a war torn mess, riddled with scraps of long forgotten technology and armor from years or months long past. All of which provided scavengers and salvagers enough to make a share of credits.

Get in and get out. Nothing more.

That was the plan.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

15 hours Prior....​

The coughing and hacking of phlegm in med bay was overly abundant. Saliva and mucus was one thing but then blood also came into the mix things shifted into a more serious setting. The crew in its entirety had contracted some type of sickness delaying their departure. The smugglers that steered the vessel to the planet were in critical condition causing the Miralukan doctor to act like he was in a frenzy to keep everyone calm. " Im trying my best." His work caused him to focus from one crew member to the other. Every now and then a cough would emit from him but it was less concerning then the hacks that covered the shuttle with infectious material. Screams erupted as the two pilots began to seize laying atop their beds in med bay. Black fluid befell their mouths lightly and their bodies contorted viciously. Respiratory arrest. The final stage.

The machines beeped rapidly till two flat lines rang silencing every one in med bay. No one suspected a disease could do this. " Doc! Why are you not in protective gear? How are you not infected?!" The same young man from earlier questioned yet again. And so Doctor Khornelis Lusk gave response. " Dont worry Dale." Pale hands pulled down a face mask revealing a wide toothy smile. Scars riddled the maw as the flesh was gnawed away were lips once were. "We're all in this together." A single hand took out a vial of black liquid once more, It rose toward the light and stayed fixed in a single position as if to be examined well by non-existent eyes. A thud sounded in the background. A limp body forcing itself to move away. The med bay became stale, its air contaminated with the accelerated states of postmortem rigidity. Heavy breaths, coughs and hacking trailed the young man in his desperation to leave. Even from down the hall Khornelis could hear his lungs struggle to inhale sufficient quantities of air. Compared to the gasping that had started again in the med bay, Dales breathe sounded different. The Guise of Doctor had decayed along with the bodies now.

"Dale. Where are.. you going?" The smile grew wider then a in-human scream deafened the interior halls.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Present....
​

" The winds howl for change. The winds howl for change. The winds howl for change." The shuttle interior took on a new scent. Pollution, charred flesh and carbon scoring. Dales struggle to pilot the shuttle was evident by the sweat that dripped from his brow. Help we...I need help. Anything. One hand on the pilots controls and his other on a heavy blaster pistol still warm to touch. The barrel projecting a light fume of smoke from previous use. Etching its way through the body through highways of veins, Blackwing traveled well. A corpse slept behind the young man, The body of a miralukan doctor. His lips gnawed away and skin a shade of rotting grey. The wide smile that once held his visage was gone and a fist sized hole had been placed in his gut. A cauterizing wound.

Twenty-two meters and rising...

The pounding of metal echoed down the hall. Flesh slamming against sealed durasteel doors. Moans, groans and the scraping of teeth. A shiver departed down Dales back and the stale air returned once more within the shuttle. A shadow lingered watching the youngman and yet when he turned around to see it there was nothing, nothing except the dead doctor from earlier. Still the feeling of being watched bombarded his senses. " A settlement?!" A squeak came from his throat in surprise.

A Graug encampment.

" The Graug? Sithspit! Between these creatures and them." His thoughts trailed back to the pounding at the sealed door behind him. There was none, not anymore. The sound of lights wavering in power surged and buzzed. Circuits shorting and tearing. " No no no no no." The power levels for the main reactor and engine struck silent chords. The vessel made it plummet into the sands. Smoke fuming to the heavens. Tainted red fluid with goblets of black goo rushed down a forehead. Dazed Dale looked up to see the alarmed faces of the Graug camp. Too tired to talk or comment about the matter, his head slowly turned when the distress signal sounded.

I never touched it. When did I touch that?
Coughing and hacking picked up in pace. This time more violent. Shaking and heaving about a familiar voice came to his ear. " Dont worry Dale. Dont worry. Help will be coming soon..." Khornelis sat up picking at the blaster wound in his gut. Once again the smile on his face returned and non-existant eyes fell apon hundreds of Graug in the camp. " Help will come soon..."

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire, Overlord of the Eternal Empire, the Emperor's hand
The Red Witch; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Rizûti Kûts, the Black Death - The Foundry, Mandalore
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | 2x red blade lightsaber shoto | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Shield talisman | G1 OmniLink | BCR-X10 Sniper Rifle | Empyrean gland | Taozin amulet
Tag(s): Sidiqq Ordo

Background music:
Sabaton – Rise of Evil​

The captain wasn't happy, but he acknowledged what Ingrid had commanded him. She didn't expect less than that. The next message arrived just a few seconds later that the enemy was not interested in the fact that it was just a civilian ship, they were targeted. Luckily, they managed to enter hyperspace and from there they made their way to the Fleet, only the red-haired woman had to somehow solve the same.

It soon became clear that the Mandalorians were the attackers, Ingrid was no longer surprised by this, as she was there when TSE acquired Weyland for herself. It was a huge, overwhelming victory, and there they became lovers with Adrian. It was also like it had happened years earlier, or at least a life ago, not just a few months ago. She ordered her men in the dropship to go in and seek cover for themselves.

She was still out here on the landing pod – but under the shield – , shields were raised as a result of the attack. From that minute on, the siege could last for days, weeks, or even longer. And she had no intention of spending that much time on this planet. So how does she have to find an alternative solution that doesn’t consist of ordering the Eternal Fleet here, but something much more solid. She didn’t like to brag about her power, she only did when she had to. Ingrid was the kind who solves things quietly.

When her two officers rushed back into the building, the woman then walked to the terminal at the landing pod. It was time to look for an alternative way to get out of the planet. She was still in a sheltered place at the moment, so the red-haired woman wasn’t worried about any enemies getting in and attacking her. And if it did happen, the Overlord of the Eternal Empire was not famous for fleeing fighting.

As soon as she entered the terminal, she started retrieving data from the still existing satellites from HoloNet to be somewhat aware of the state of affairs…

​

 

[Severous Augustus]

Severous Augustus sat in the command chair of his Star Destroyer, listening to the flurry of communications on several channels. This battle was big....bigger than he had ever experienced. He didn't know what role he would play but his gut felt like a rancor was trampling around. His heart was beating rapidly, and he was sweating through his shirt. Not only was this going to be a big battle, he was fighting alongside the Mandalorians.

He had always wanted to fight by their side, but now that he was here he feared their judgement. They were warriors, the best of the best, while Severous was just an admiral among many. He was a force-wielder, of course, but would he make a difference? Of course he could, but he feared that it'd be a bad difference. He feared that he would cost his side the battle. He wasn't supposed to fear...it opened the Dark Side. The Order of The Force doesn't pick sides. They are balanced.

To heck with that; this is war, one doesn't restrain in war.

He just needed to take it slow. His fleet had arrived and the first step was to announce his arrival to the Mandalorians. "Attention, this is Severous Augustus of The Order of The Force. My fleet and I have arrived, where can we help the most?"

He looked around the area that was soon to become a battlefield, envisioning the fight ahead. The Mandalorians didn't have the advantage here, but they were fierce fighters and they had allies in this game. He needed to give them his best effort, every moment would count. There would be chaos, Severous would create his own order.

Next on his list, he needed to address his own men. If he didn't know what to do yet...they would certainly be lost. He switched to the fleet channel and spoke calmly to his men, "Await further orders, and do whatever you feel that you need to do in order to calm yourself. Be prepared for the upcoming fight. Remember, The Force is with us, and I am with you."

With that, there was a moment of silence. He knew it was the calm before the storm. All hell was moments away from breaking loose.


​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He walked slowly, his armored boots kicking up small puffs of dirt as the weak soil beneath his feet shifted with every step. The sun shone oppressively just beyond the smog bank, the contaminants in the air turning its rays a dark and foreboding crimson. Plumes of pollution marked the position of distant smelteries and forges across the torn and ravaged landscape, lakes of sludge, and canyons of twisted rusted metal separating them in unfathomable distances. Once, the world had been green and vibrant, the labored efforts of a people desperate to restore their broken world to some vague memory of a glorified once-was.​

​

He had ended that infantile dream, knocking it to the ground, and crushing it beneath the boot-heel of Empire. The bones of the countless dead gaped up at him with empty sockets with every crunch of his feet on the desiccated ground, the curse of accusation sprouting up like weeds where life so desperately attempted to cling on.​

​

But there were those who could not accept what-is, always obsessing over what once-was. ​

​

They were coming again, he could smell them. The stench of desperation, of conviction, of creed, and of fear.​

​

Oh, so much fear. They hid it behind their mask, their badge of honor, but he could smell it on them. Fear was the guardian, anger was the key, and hatred was the gate. The Mandalorians had yet to master fear, so they could not unlock the gate of hatred with their key built of anger. They would again flounder where they had thought to triumph, sacrificing their own in a foolish crusade to...​

​

Wait.​

​

He stopped, his head tilted up to the sky.​

​

Oh, he could see. This was different, he could smell a different sort of scent on the wind.​

​

Hatred.​

​

He allowed himself the facsimile of a smile to spread across his features, though it was not mirth which danced in his molten eyes. He turned his head back on the path ahead of him and he began walking forward, the wind ripping at his cloak with each sudden change of current in the air. Before him rose a monolithic structure, half-buried beneath the fetid earth and ornamented with grotesque imagery. The creatures which milled before its entrance, large brutish creatures which he had made wholly subservient onto his power, did not impede his path as he strode through the structure's gaping maw and down into the dark dead earth.​

​

And as the light faded from the surface world behind him with each step, the Dark Lord of the Sith spoke;​

​

"Perhaps they have found their hatred after all this time, let us see what victory it may yet buy them. Or the grave that it has already dug."​

 

[Isaiah Priest]

// JUGGERNAUT//
// LOCATION // Mandalore - Approaching Surface
// OBJECTIVE // Stop Darth Assimilus
// ALLIES // Kestus Bralor | Ragnar Syndicate
// ENEMIES // TSE | MU | The Rancidous Order
// THEME // Sinking Into Flames

Spoiler: Equipment

Beskar'gam
Rotary Blaster Cannon
Disruptor Carbine
Hybrid Pistol
Vibrosword
Concord Brawn
Mandalorian Shockgaunts
Indomitable Vambraces

---

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~ Several Hours ago ~

Some in the galaxy misconstrued what it meant to be Mandalorian. Some worshipped a code, others kneel before false idols believing themselves to be Emperors and Empresses, and then there was the worst of them all. There were those who were simple vultures, who hid in the shadows licking their wounds waiting for their time to strike. That viewed themselves as Mandalorians, as real warriors when they were naught but mongrel pups who’d retreated with their tails between their legs. Isaiah had seen this first hand when he’d been on Wayland, he’d fought alongside people such as this. He saw them flee when faced with the potential of death, he saw them give in and scatter to the galaxy like roaches in the presence of light. Now here they were once again, this time rising up, but to take a fight against a weakened enemy. An enemy that the Galactic Alliance, the New Imperial Order, and the Sons of Mandalore had conquered. This was the tactics of a carrion, not of a wolf. Rage billowed in the furnace of Isaiah’s heart seeing the pretenders once more rear their heads. He wished to crush the skulls of his foes yet now was not the time to release that aggression. There were more pressing issues on the horizon.

Over the past few months Isaiah had been tracking an individual across the galaxy, one who left death or rather undeath in his wake. A vile entity that spread blackwing to every living creature he could. It was Isaiah’s hesitance that allowed him to get this far. To reach not only Mandalore but every planet in the sector. Concordia, Mandalore, Concord Dawn. He couldn’t fight this on his own, nor did the Mandalorian have faith that the Sith or the pretenders union could sufficiently handle the threat.

“Kestus, at one time you asked me to fight for you, to fight for the Sons. Now I ask for you and yours to do the same. While Mandalore is no longer our home, while it and its moons have been tainted by false empires and the self-deification of fools we have to return to protect it. If we don’t do this now there will never be a place to return to.”

Gazing down through the viewport to the surface of Mandalore, Isaiah lifted his helmet placing it upon his head for the first time in years. No longer durasteel, but true Beskar, the mark of a warrior. The conflict would end on this day and he would have Lusk’s head on a platter for what he had done.