Invasion The Clash of Ideals // NEO invasion of DE owned Ithor and Selnesh

[Ryorgak Saor'daw]

Dyans Keto
Gauntlet Shields | Crushgaunts | Crusader Assault Armor | Beskad | Kal Dagger | ZV2 Compact Heavy Pistols (x5) | Custom Vambraces | Master-Grav Boots

Ryorgak was relieved that he did not have to navigate through the flames and smoke filling the corridor, as his battle heads-up display provided him with real-time updates though some of it wasn't entirely accurate due to the environment. The Mandalorians had planned aimed to seize the prison and incorporate its inmates into their forces; however, the mission parameters had shifted. ​

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There was little point in continuing to pursue this objective, especially as the triggers of the ZV2 Compact Heavy Pistols were being pulled rapidly to deliver suppressive fire towards Dyans Keto , whose arrogance was only rivaled by her proficiency with a blade.​

​

He could hear the plasma impacting the cold, hard metal infused with force, as several shots ricocheted and struck his beskar armor. ​

​

"Lady if I thought you were a worthy opponent I would have struck first. But I don't even know who you are." The Twi'lek responded, as two shapes were detected behind him by the helmet system; one doppelganger struck for the back of his knee where the leg plates were while the other struck for the back of the elbow. ​

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With a swift pivot, he went high, evading the knee strike and simultaneously twisting his arm to deflect the elbow attack with the side plates of the Gauntlet Shields through the use of his Master-Grav Boots which enabled him to run backwards from the reach of the two illusions. ​

​

Still rapidly firing his weapons. ​

 

[Trent Perris]

Protective Utility Clothing | Heavy Rifleman Gear
Concealed Blaster | Blaster Pistol | Assault Rifle | Blackout Batons
Lodestone Devices | Explosive Charges
Wristcomp | Wristband
Mammoth​

Patience was his greatest ally in the tight corridors. Listening intently and paying attention to the surroundings as he avoided stumbling into the two groups squaring off with one another. Between the burn of blaster fire, the smoke of charred flesh, and the taste of metal in the air, he was thankful for the synthmesh mask.

It at least helped filter out some of the nastier things.

He'd have preferred a full face mask though. Keeping his steps quiet and measured with each step forward. Passing by cells and doing what he could to free those inside. Dolling out instructions to get back to the shuttle. Some he hoped would make it there. Some he doubted would make it to far before they fell to exhaustion. A familiar voice coming over the prison com-system as Trent paused. Brow furrowed at the anger inside the voice. Mind racing at just how far gone someone could be to assist the Empire. Worry settling over his thoughts at knowing exactly who it was that was behind that voice.

Wondering which of them would meet their end should they meet here as he listened intently to the sound of blaster fire closing in as another door was opened and another prisoner was freed.

His rifle rising briefly to give them cover as they moved away from him. His eyes scanning as the sound of boots and imp-armor shuffled nearby. His eyes searching the bare hallway as a torrent of alarms and explosions began to muffle any other sounds around him. A hiss coming from the vents. Keeping the rifle leveled with one hand as he pulled the synthmesh mask tight. It limited his vision a little, but he'd have longer at least if whatever that was proved to be a problem.

Standing once more to move forward with measured steps. Finding the end of the corridor finally as he stood with his lead shoulder angled, rifle at a low ready as he leaned backwards and out. Exposing as little as possible as he spied a pair of imps and a chit-ton of a mess around them.

A split second decision as his rifle went from low ready to aimed directly at the closest one.

Feeling almost guilty with how they both looked worse for wear, he gave the sharpest whistle possible as his finger crept over the trigger and the barrel swayed.

"Evenin' imps." Voice muffled through the synthmesh mask as he pressed himself closer to the corner and angled his shoulder back. Supporting his weapon against the wall as his assault rifle came to life. A slew of blue-charric rounds filling the hallway in their general direction.

Altan | Kalah Redra | Reluctantly NEO
Saltare Dothon | Sid Berik​

 

[Antipater]

SELNESH
IMPERIAL DETENTION CENTER - CONTROL ROOM ALPHA

A warning klaxon blared throughout the prison as cells began to open. The prisoners who were in fit condition would make a break for it or rally with their Mandalorian rescuers. The rest would cower and die. For his part, Antipater watched the Mandalore release them without stirring.

He had not expected that, for Antipater saw no strategic value in their liberation. The narrative would stir some interest, but such things would have been spread whether they freed ten men or ten thousand.

The droid continued on as if nothing had transpired. "You would keep the Empire as a vassal? You are quite unlike your forebears."

It may have been a misdirection, but Antipater had found organics rarely bothered to employ cunning around droids - even one such as himself. They still viewed him as little better than an appliance. Utterly inert. Who would bother to deceive a fridge?

But all this talk had given him quite enough. All branches converged, and one bright path remained: a guiding thread of moonlight, seared into his photoreceptors. Small splits ran up and down the length. No forecast was ever perfect, but this was… Sufficient.

"You do not need to convince me of the treachery of the Sith. It is the Lord-Regent who has embarked on this course, and I am beholden to his wisdom." Antipater unfolded his arms. "I may yet welcome you to Jaemus as a liberator… If you survive this place."

Faster than one would expect a dark trooper to move, Antipater raised his forearm and a whipcord shot forth from his wrist. Hexalloy nanothread. Very durable. It wrapped around the haft of Carduul's polearm with an alarming certainty.

And then he yanked, hunching forward and placing his whole form behind the motion. Servomotors and gyroscopes roared with the effort.

Either the Mandalore would come to him… Or his weapon.

Attn: Carduul Akahl​

 

[Saltare Dothon]

Saltares world was in a daze due to the injuries he had sustained, and the rifle butt to his head was the final straw as it knocked him to the ground. He stared up with blurry vision, clawing with his hands to find a weapon as the final Mandalorian collected himself and aimed his rifle at Saltare.

Before he could pull the trigger, an axe embedded itself deep into the Mandalorian, throwing him to the ground. Saltare heard a voice in the distance, beckoning him back to the moment.

He shook his head and rolled over, seeing Sid Berik motioning him toward the armory. The kid saved him, he wouldn’t forget it, but if they didn’t do something quick there wouldn’t be time to thank him later.

Distant alarms, klaxons, and synthesized voices emanating from the speakers alerted him to the fire beginning to spread through the complex. His rifle was trapped under the body of one of the men he had killed, and while he was still prone he pushed up on their shoulder in an attempt to dislodge it. As he did so, he heard a sharp whistle coming from close by. Believing it was Inferno squad coming to reinforce them, he swung his head in that direction just in time to see a rifle barrel swing out from behind a nook in the wall.

With what little clarity he had left, he rolled the body of the dead Mandalorian over onto himself as white-hot bolts arced from the rifle toward him. The dead Mandalorians body jittered as it took impact after impact, but it kept Saltare from being killed. He swung his rifle out and sent rounds back down the hallway, not with any accuracy but more in an attempt to keep whoever was shooting at him in cover.

"Berik! Get to the damn armory!"

Saltare held onto the dead Mandalorian and used his legs to try to slide himself to an adjacent doorway. At the same time, he comm'd back to Inferno, "Times up, Inferno, I need you now!"

Trent Perris

 

[Koda Fett]

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Beneath the helmet, Koda's HUD pinged with alerts, notifying him of the approaching squadron well before they arrived. Yet, he remained unmoving, a statue clad in thick armor - for now. The next few seconds would determine whether these soldiers had come with a plan or were simply cannon fodder following orders. The arrogant commander could ramble a moment longer.​

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Even after all these years, people still assumed he was just another glory-seeking Mandalorian. The thought earned an unseen roll of his eyes.​

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Then, without warning, he exploded into motion. As the second-floor squadron arrived, a hail of blaster fire shattered the fragile order of the detention center. Imperials fired upon Imperials in the chaos, caught in the crossfire of their own poor coordination. Koda ducked into an alcove, evading what he could while the rest of the shots harmlessly ricocheted off his armor. The darts never reached him - blasted out of the air before they had a chance.​

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"Let them tear each other apart," he said to Careena, his voice as calm as ever. "Like I said, I have a job to do. And you? This lot isn't worth your time."​

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Careena Fett Anguis Dux Tibera Jessen​

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[Kei Amadis]

Location: Imperial Detention, Prisoner Wings
Post Actions: A mass stasis field is now active freezing many prisoners in place while they are taken down. Burning incendiary gel and frenzied wookies still guard the doors out, seeking to burn any routes created or potentially prisoners.
NPCs: Dark Jedi Strike Team: Dral'Haran | Various Bloodclaw Wookiees.
Enemies: Ninurta Slaabur'r | Carduul Akahl | Careena Fett | Ryorgak Saor'daw | Trent Perris | Koda Fett
Allies: Antipater | Saltare Dothon | Sid Berik | Tibera Jessen | Crane Baxa | Dyans Keto | Darth Veyriss | Anguis Dux

Direct Tags: Open
Nearby: Altan | Trent Perris | Sid Berik ? | Saltare Dothon ?

"Keep it burning, and spread it where you need to." Could he control the uncontrollable? Would a Jedi try? Pushing now, the obvious facility exits were locked down in incendiary gel. They didn't have an infinite amount, but a few breaches could be plugged if they met no serious resistance.

Ryorgak Saor'daw

That gas was a problem, but also one being fixed by yet more fire from someone else. Strangely, this actually helped Kei's plan twofold. Breathing through their rebreathers, the Dark Jedi were kitted out well, but some Wookiees, already raging, nearly lost themselves to madness before clear oxygen stabilized them.

Fire from the vents choked out an obvious escape route. With Mandalorian resistance crumbling, he had his pick of strategies. Wookiees roared their vengeance, hacking crusaders to pieces. The toxin coursing through their blood wasn't helping their control.

Even with the main exits sealed, the prison remained a war zone. Blaster fire rattled through the corridors, distant screams carried over alarms, and the Mandalorians still held key positions. Some prisoners were breaking for improvised escape routes—blowing through walls, hijacking security overrides, finding ways Kei hadn't yet sealed.

There was a choice to make. A lot of people were freeing prisoners. Even if they couldn't escape easily, they could still blow their way out. Did he really do it—kill them all, could he cross that bridge? Stun grenades from the strike team took down several fleeing prisoners, and stun techniques from the Dark Jedi knocked more unconscious.

Altan | Trent Perris | Sid Berik ? | Saltare Dothon ?

For now, no one had stopped him. But that might not last. Kei's presence had been broadcast facility-wide, and those who opposed him—whether Resistance or Mandalorian—could track him. He could feel the weight of their decisions pressing against the Force, a few dying to his weapon, others deciding whether to challenge him at all. Somewhere in the prison, Jedi or resistance fighters were making their own call, and Mandalorian's weren't budging easily.

Under the main cell blocks, he was out of time.

A burst of Force energy and a bolter shot tore through one of the main floors. Kei surged upward through the gap, no 'hello there' Kenobi moment for those who saw.

"Do whatever you have to." Amadis's voice was as grim as his actions, but there was a chance they wouldn't need to die. Reaching deep into the Force, a mass stasis field went up—his other mainstay. Prisoners' nervous systems overloaded, their bodies seizing as they froze in place. Once a technique used for peace, this was the apex of his lifelong stun training. But this time, the technique felt colder—emotion in the grip, twisted the action to be less calm or controlled for those held.

He wouldn't hold it for long or if interrupted, it was a difficult thing to pull off.

"Take them down." Holding to his goal, Kei gritted his teeth as bound prisoners were one by one stunned by the strike team, using more traditional means, each easing the burden on the Dark Jedi Master.

There was hope for a better outcome than burning them all alive—but not much time left to find it. One of the Dark Jedi hesitated, raising his saber...

​

 

[Dyans Keto]

Post: 4
Location: Imperial Detention, Selnesh
Theme:Victory
Equipment: Krath Holy Battle Suit | Krath blood blade(Dagger) | Krath Dire Sword | x2 Stiletto Knives
Allies: Antipater | Saltare Dothon | Sid Berik | Tibera Jessen | Crane Baxa | Kei Amadis | Darth Veyriss | Anguis Dux
Enemies: Careena Fett | Carduul Akahl | Ninurta Slaabur'r | Koda Fett | Altan | Trent Perris
Tags: Ryorgak Saor'daw

​

---

"Lady if I thought you were a worthy opponent I would have struck first. But I don't even know who you are."

She continued her cautious steps forward as he spoke those words to her. If he only knew his history and roots it had with her family from ancient times. The time of the alliance of Sith brotherhood, Krath, and Mandalorians with dream to usher in the golden age for the Galaxy. It was a beautifully poetic time in galactic history that Dyans had always hoped to recreate, one where the Tetans would rise again.

"Well, then let me introduce myself."

She watched and moved forward as he turned his back to her and fired on the illusions. As bolts fired into them dispersing across their illusionary bodies. As he got closer his armor protecting him from the fires the illusions slowly began to fade away and she found a moment to strike. She lunged forward blade in her right hand firmly gripped, his armor would not be pierced through, meaning she was limited on where she could effectively strike.

Her strike came from right to left as his back was to her it would strike at his right side. As she began to move less cautiously with lightning speed the strike went for the waistline just above the right hip. He was fast and she was anticipating his pivot to turn and face her once more. When he did, she was prepared to force blast him into the nearby wall with her left cybernetic arm.

"I'm Empress Dyans Keto!"

---

Cell block A


A couple of Mandalorian prisoners were ushered up to the front of line as quickly as was possible. The head of the guard put a key card to the scanner and opened the exit as two guards quickly pulled the Mandalorian's from the cell block and quickly shut the exit door. As they did the rest of the prisoners tried to rush forward and push against but the guards in their Mandalorian armor manage to push back against it and shut the block doors. As the prisoners reached and grabbed through the doors screaming obscenities at the men.

One of the Mandalorian prisoners looked at the guards dressed in silver crusader armor. "You came to free us?" He questioned the guards. "Why not free them all they can fight with us, probably die but at least they will be fighting?" One of the not Mandalorians in crusader armor just looked at him through the slit visor and then hit a button on the card reader as the automated turrets opened fire on the men still in the cell block piling up to the exit.

The turret cut all the unarmed men in the cell block down with in minutes bodies were piled at the door of the cell block as the two mandalorians from the cell block looked on in horror wondering how their brothers could do such a thing. So, of those men would have fought maybe even survived and, made could have been brought into the Mandalorian ranks. Now they were all dead or dying in a pile killed in a dishonorable fashion.

Over the comm one of the Tetans in crusader armor spoke on the prison secure channel. "Cell block A is purged, heading for cell block B." As he said it the rest of the guards pushed the Mandalorian prisons forward out in front like meat shields for any resistance that might come there way. The Mandalorian prisoners new now these were not their saviors but executioners.

 

[Althenea | Atticus]

Location: Ithor, Hills of Nemorandi, Deep Jungle, Ritual Site.
Post Actions: The rituals power grows, but a steady unnatural storm begins to form, and each extension risks exposure
Potential Boons for Allies or Curses for Enemies: Minor. Growing
Potentially Affected
Boon: Detritus Ren | Electra-12 | Onrai | Darth Moskvin | The Lord of Hunger | Darth Imperius | Marlon Sularen | Tristan Evore | Van Trask | Stevru Klamat | Darth Callidus
Curse: Nelliel Kryze | Brent Warnel | Saverok | Kalah Redra | Vreegan Fett | Tarrak | Mother Askani | Yuri Maji

Two Mandalorians perished to a sonic javelin, the concussive force screaming their end and ripping up their armor to slice into them. A rocket hit a shield, and the first mawite gave his life, his body was blown back several feet, with his killer the next to fall.

Roars and cheers from the line of savages, to die in sacrifice to the maw, was all they could ask for. Death. Carnage. Keth. All to the march of a shield wall's drumbeat, now five in number. Their oaths blackened upon the metal, holding fast upon the ritual site.

Radiating outward, their ritual growing subtly in influence. The atmosphere thickened, the air curdling to taste of blood. Each fallen body—Mandalorian or Mawite—fed the corrupting influence. Their spilt lifeblood seeped into Ithor's sacred jungles, and the light recoiled. Leaves withered, twisting in their own rot. The clouds above began to darken, touched with an unnatural crimson shade, marking the first storm sign above.

But what would happen when Sith Ritual met Biotech? A potentially devastating concoction, a curse for the unprepared, and a cunning boon for those who could seize it. The Sith Lord at the altar raised his hands, fingers curled to grasp at unseen throats. A deep, guttural chant spilled from his lips, growing louder, more insistent, it drummed through the force:

"Derrinos, vartoti, tegu tave mesinis buti unmade! Spirits bound ir dekomet kia burn!"
Devour, Consume, let the flesh be unmade! Spirits bound and forever to burn!

Their Pyre rose higher, the ground beginning to tremble lightly. The air became thick with malevolence. Something ancient, and hungry, began to stir. A darkside nexus seeding into this place, and a powerful tomb to follow, but Keth never did things for free. A shadow appeared watching, as if pleased.

With the first crack of the skies, the storm clouds began to gather, and the potential curse upon their enemies grew, the boon to their allies bleeding into the moment to form a stronger clarity.

OOC:

Spoiler

Only tag you once for plot hooks or post-flavor.
Potential only, no assumptions.
If I missed anyone on objective 1 sorry!

 

[Kalah Redra]

STORM
ORBIT | ITHOR
ALLIES: Mother Askani | Yuri Maji | Altan | Trent Perris | By default only Tarrak , Nelliel Kryze and NEO (not really allies, but we're fighting a common enemy ig)
ENEMIES: The Lord of Hunger | Marlon Sularen | Electra-12 | Van Trask | Tristan Evore | Stevru Klamat DE
ENGAGING: Marlon Sularen | The Lord of Hunger
PERSONAL GEAR: In bio

OMENS​

Active Foundation Fleet Active flaghsip: FNV Commissioner (100/100) 3x Consular II-Class Frigates FNV Pioneer (100/100) FNV Nexus (100/100) FNV Intrepid (100/100) 4x Marauder II-Class Attack Corvette FNV Hellhound (100/100) FNV Hunter (100/100) FNV Helios (100/100) FNV Frenzy (100/100) Reserve Foundation Fleet a short jump away Led by Captain Georgia Keller Real flaghsip: FNV Retribution (100/100) 2x Longbeam II-Class Cruisers FNV Atlas (100/100) FNV Javelin (100/100) 1x Horizon-Class Star Destroyer FNV Dauntless (100/100) Spoiler: Actions -Talked to Yuri Maji and got him to get loaded into a mass driver cannon -Georgia Keller is quickly hailed to be ready to jump on command from beyond -Sorry The Lord of Hunger - you getting patronised -Had the Nexus and Pioneer stick close to the Commissioner while the Intrepid jump to Selnesh to be there to help Altan and Trent Perris - it's there to receive the prisoners y'all get out. -The Corvettes are ordered to be ready to move on Kalah's order -All ships are cycling their shields and communication frequencies -The Commissioner's Hyperdrive is primed for a micro-jump. -The Frenzy is being kept back in order to get Yuri Maji off Marlon Sularen 's ship eventually -Open fire on Marlon Sularen with first Ion Cannons, then Mass Drivers in order to get Yuri Maji to Stevru Klamat -Then the Commissioner micro-jumps to end up behind The Lord of Hunger 's Superbia while the Nexus and Pioneer come in from the other side. -All Corvettes, except the Frenzy, then scatter after the Commissioner's cannons are fired. I'll focus them a bit more next post.

"Ma'am, you summoned me? Decent target practice for today, from the look of it."

Finally the pup made it to the bridge.
"Yes, though, I'd prefer it if we remained undamaged." Kalah said, turning towards him while the ship reoriented itself after releasing the shuttles. "Word has it that your people are quite proficient boarders - especially if they have to nab someone. Is that correct?" she asked him. "I ask, because the Empire's Lord Regent is on that big fat vessel over there and I want his war-criminal arse in my brink. I need a very capable warrior to get it here." She then turned to look at the viewport again. "Now, I have a plan to get you there quickly - if you have the guts for it." Her sly, green eyes looked at him again. "I plan to to give his ship the old one two - ion cannons and mass drivers. With you loaded up into one of the mass drivers. Think you can handle that, Mando?" she asked him, hoping, trusting, that he'll agree. That he'll live up to the reputation that some of his kin had set according to records.

"I'll have a retrieval ship ready for you when you are ready to come out. We'll keep in communication. We'll get you out of there one way or another." she the said in answer. "Get to one of the mass-driver magazines. We'll notify the loaders you'll be coming." She nodded towards Zan who saw to relaying that order. "May the Force be with you, Maji. Or...what do you people say? Haran'gir give you strength."

Kalah watched him leave, hoping he'll be successful.
"Ma'am, we have movement our way from the Imperial fleet." came Boothe's report.
"Have Keller be at the ready to jump." the Zygerrian said.
"Ma'am, we are being hailed from one of their flags." came Jones' report came short on Boothes' heels.
Kalah narrowed her eyes for a moment as her ears flattened against her head. "Accept it." she finally said.

"Fleet belonging to the Foundation, I repeat...Foundation Fleet," The communications' officer of the AGV Superbia hailed the upturned, belly-up cruiser within the planet's atmosphere, hoping to just get a good reponse so they'd be able to focus on their main task. "State your objectives and intent. Any sign of hostility will be responded to according to the Naval Laws of engagement. State your rank, name and intent of presence."

The entire bridge was silent, everyone watching their Grand Admiral. Yes, they were here for humanitarian reasons, but they knew her well enough by now to know that she won't shy away from an ultimatum.
"Learn to hail a bogey properly, Superbia." Kalah answered patronisingly. "And if your scans can't give you the information you seek, then I see an uphill climb for you. Good day, Sir." she then went on, motioning for Jones to fully activate the rotation comms system. The rest of the bridge looked at her wide-eyed, though Zan stood with a smirk on his green face.

"Well, don't just sit there! Hop to!" she barked. "Have the Nexus and Pioneer stick close and have them increase shields. I want the Intrepid to get its butt to Selnesh immediately to start receiving the prisoners that the team there are retrieving. Let the Corvettes prep their engines - I want them to scatter and hit on my word. And let everyone start cycling both shields and communications." she ordered. "And have Maji loaded and ready. Once we fire, we need to move, so have the hyperdrive primed for a micro."
"Yes, Ma'am." said Zan and everyone jumped into action.

The Commissioner's re-anglement took a bit longer than the rest, but everyone had their positions in a relative heartbeat. By the time they were in position, the Intrepid had jumped toward Selnesh by using the flag as cover.

"Align armaments to Sularen's Revenge. She's already damaged. Ions first to break her shields down further. Then Mass Drivers. I want that Mandalorian through that hull one shot. Keep the Frenzy back for when we have to retrieve Maji. Have the rest ready to scatter and then engage that buzzfly fleet that wanted to intercept us once we fire cannons." Kalah then said and communication was relayed.

"Open fire, darlings. Then get me behind the Superbia ASAP. Have the Frigates follow from the other side."

 

[Careena Fett]

C a r e e n a .F e t t

| Location | Selnesh, Prison​

| Objective | Prison Break​

​

The Alor was interrupted by a shout from the hallway, here HUD revealing in her peripheral vision Tibera and several soldiers arriving. Her sidearm shifted away from Anguis to one of the soldiers accompanying Tibera, a quick trio of shots fired off, tightly packed into the chest of one of the troopers moving to fire. Her stance shifted as the hallway was pressed against the walls to avoid the incoming barrage from those that remained. The blaster bolts did little to worry her, the disruptor and explosive rounds however did pose a problem as they whizzed dangerously close past her form. How incovenient.​

​

Stray fire raced back and forth as she glanced over at Koda who ducked out of the way as well. Even after all these years he still had an uncanny resemblance to a machine rather than flesh and blood. Still, it offered her some comfort knowing that some things never changed. Always a singular focus and so little room for humor or error. Admirable and credit enough to substantiate Koda's previous claim to the title of Alor, even if the lack of empathy did leave something to be desired.​

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<"Not worth the time, but they're still both in our way. Don't suppose we can catch up over a drink once this is all done and over with."> She said casually as she reached down to her belt and grabbed a smoke grenade, priming the device before tossing it out into the hallway as jets of smoke erupted from either device, spiraling as a thick smoke flooded the area. A whipcord shot out from the smoke as it wrapped around the neck of one of the soldiers, causing them to choke and grab at the cable only to be yanked down to the ground and dragged swiftly into the smoke. The sound of a furry of blows could be heard landing as Careena relieved the unfortunate soldier of their weapons. She had a prisonbreak to help facilitate, and the friendly fire from the enemy was certainly a welcome distraction.​

​

Koda Fett | Tibera Jessen | Anguis Dux​

 

[Feydrik Munin]

"We will cut our enemies down in droves. Our fires will be the substance of their nightmares. We will protect our brothers. The fields of the dead shall serve as evidence of our passing."

YOU WILL NOT KILL ME HERE

​

Feydrik Munin stood tall.

Despite all around him, he stood tall. The Floating Cities had been attacked, besieged on all fronts. Under massive attack by the Mandalorians, they laid siege to the cities above the clouds. They gave no quarter. They gave no respite. There was no mercy, there was no break. Their violence of action was legendary, and the shocktroops that Feydrik commanded were no different.

They were well on their way to becoming Supercommandos- each warrior in his company battle-tested and proven. Thus- he went forward, charging towards the Imperial positions headstrong.

The Imperials were well-fortified, dug-in, but their violence, their desire for war was not on equal terms. Feydrik's company practically lay waste to the Defenders- the speed, violence of action, and the maneuverability of the Mandalorians was unmatched, thanks to their war droids, jetpacks, and unfathomable desire for victory and violence.

Feydrik was no different, and thus far in the battle, found no equal. The Legion, the Stormtroopers clad in red- they stood little chance against the overwhelming violence and discipline, and the time-honored tradition of Mandalorian combat. They moved fast, killed fast and in droves. The Knights were the only problem, slowing Feydrik's men down slightly. But not Feydrik. Feydrik pushed through, the Dark Sided Sith monstrosities, grafted and forged in hate. They were claimed to be without equal, without flaw. But thus far, Feydrik found one flaw as he cut through the Knights:

They were matched against him.

He saw him there, as his axe and his pistol fell another Knight, another dark sider. Standing tall amongst the flames, the battering of laser-fire and malice. He was tall, he was clad in black, and he wielded a large sword. Feydrik screamed behind his helmet, knowing his enemy through great study:

"IMPERIUS!"

He cried out- calling out the Sith by name. Feydrik charged forward, his heavy footfalls charging towards the Sith. A Knight came forward, swinging one of their malice-filled blades. He sidestepped the downswing, letting the blade catch in the ground. Feydrik spun on his heel, bringing his foot up- and crushed the Knight's wrists, both of them. He followed up by grabbing the Knight by the face, crushing it with his crushgaunts. Nothing, no one, could stop him from reaching Darth Imperius . Feydrik was of sound mind and sound resolve.

Which, to be in front of Feydrik in such a way- was very bad for your health.

​

 

[Van Trask]

Ithor

Electra stayed cool in the heat of Van’s remarks and the chaos of battle. Of course his words of the black market weren’t entirely a joke, he was sure he could pull a few strings with some guys he knew in the salvage corps. The ex-scum simply let out a quiet grumble, content he may need to work this angle alone.

Van’s hands continued to work away at the Destroyers auxiliary systems as Electra probed for more information on the ship. The droidbrain had already prepared the request when Van asked for it and soon he routed more information to Electra’s HUD. Van highlighted the concentration of the point defence array and the types of weapons expected, trimming away as much secondary information as possible as to not clutter the pilots already dense HUD.

“She’s an iron porcupine, gonna push the Destroyer to its absolute limit getting close to her.” He commented.

The ship rocked as they closed in, incoming long range fire began to rake the squadron. Van kept an eye on the shields and hull integrity all the while sensors buzzed and blared as their ship was locked onto by enemy fighters all the while electronic countermeasures got to work.

Van Trask smiled as the orders to let loose with missiles came through and his tac display was lit up by the outlines of the approaching Mandalorian fighters.

“Aye aye cap’n.“

His hands hovered over the missile control, scrolling through the list of the Destroyers armament before coming to the cluster seismic munitions. He transferred the targeting data over to the missiles homing devices, the droidbrain running a cursory check in the background. Satisfied, he grabbed the targeting joystick and pulled down on the trigger.

“Fox-3, ripple fire.” He announced.

In an instant three seismic cluster missiles fired off from the Destroyer, one after another heading straight towards the Mandalorian fighter formations. The first missile headed straight for Switchblade and the other two fanning out, trying to maximize the effect of the cluster munitions.

Allies: Electra-12 Marlon Sularen
Enemies: Nelliel Kryze Vreegan Fett Kalah Redra

Phone post again​

 

[Joseph Torson]

C L A S H_O F_I D E A L S
Objective II : Breakout

DARK EMPIRE
SELNESH, MID RIM

Spoiler: Gear

• Plasma Disruptor Rifle [1]
• NK01 Fujita Rail Pistols [2]
• Tenebrae Commando Armor Mk. II [w/ Jetpack + Flight Attachment]
• Jūryoku 12 Repulsor Grenades [5]
• Konīde 10 Plasma Detonators [5]

Spoiler: Accompanying Forces

• HAAGx [1]
• Red Right Hand Operatives [40/40]

As the Battle raged throughout the Imperial Detention Center between Imperial Forces and both Mandalorian and Rebel elements, a single Gunship descended through the atmosphere as it began it's final approach towards the main hangar bay of the Detention Center. Onboard the Gunship was a Platoon of Special Forces Operative of the Elite Red Right Hand, the personal enforcers of the Lord-Regent Marlon Sularen. Led by Captain Joseph Torson, their mission here was simple enough : Repel the Mandalorian attack and prevent any prisoners from escaping.

With the Gunship closing in towards the hangar, the Special Forces Captain took some time to check his Plasma Disruptor Rifle one last time, readying himself for the battle to come. Today, just like at Tython the Empire would show the Mandalorians and by extension to the entire galaxy that they were far from the weak and venerable faction everyone perceived them to be, and that they were still a force to be reckoned with. "Arriving at the Landing Zone in 3...2...1" the Pilot announced from the comms of the Gunship right before it came to rest and the doors opened.

As the Red Right Hand disembarked and entered the hangars they noticed a thick cloud of smoke near the roof of the hangars while flames are coming out from the ventilation shafts. In addition to this the sounds of distant blaster fire could be heard as dozens of individual smaller fights raged on between Imperials and Mandalorian/Rebel Forces. Nevertheless the arrival of the Red Right Hand would prove to be a balancing factor that would guarantee to shift the tides back in the favor of the Empire.

"All Squads fan out. Make sure this Facility is cleared of any and all Mandalorian threats." the Special Forces Captain ordered before heading deeper inside the Detention Center, followed by a squad of 10 Operatives, while the rest of the Platoon split up further into three other squads of 10 Operatives which proceeded to navigate through the Center in search for Mandalorians and Rebels to hunt and eliminate, all in the name of the Empire.

[Friendlies] | Saltare Dothon | Sid Berik
[Hostiles] | Altan | Trent Perris
​

 

[Tibera Jessen]

Objective II: Prison Break
Location: Imperial Detention Center, Selnesh
Tag: Careena Fett , Koda Fett , Anguis Dux

Yeah, not the greatest course of action to just start blasting indiscriminately at a group. Still, the shots coming back from Anguis were a shock, they were on the same side! Tibera scowled under her helmet before ducking behind one of the soldier's riot shields. This was a good idea, as a two of the guards were immediately vaporized by the disruptor blasts. Scary stuff to be sure, but that wasn't even the worst of it.

A few of the stray shots managed to severely damaged the struts holding up the second deck catwalk. Whatever brainiac built this place must have thought a suspended catwalk was a great idea, it was not! Tibera felt the floor beneath her shake before the catwalk separated and went vertical! She grabbed onto a handrail to suspend herself, while the rest of the troopers fell to the ground.

"Same team! Why in feth are you shooting at me," Tibera screamed at the chrome-plated face of the Viper Leader. "Better have a good excuse when I get down there, or I'm denting that face plate for you!!"

There was no time to bandy words with the Viper, her job was to get rid of the mandos and stop the riots. One thing was good about this armor, it was designed to take heavy damage, especially from impact. There was still an amount of fear as the armored merc slid herself down to the ground off the destroyed walkway, landing with her fist to the ground, and her body hunched over.

Didn't seem like there would be time to regroup with her squad though, if any of them were alive. The blasters were still firing, bolts of red and blue filling the air before Tibera even knew what was happening. She grabbed her handcannon again and began a run-and-gun maneuver towards cover. Unfortunately there were limited options available! She had to duck into one of the cells, a bolt of blue streaking past her visor before impacting a wall.

After a reload, the mercenary took aim towards one of the beskar plated warriors, only for smoke to fill the area. One of Tibera's troops was pulled into the smoke. In the seconds she had to see anything as the man's body pierced the haze, Tibera fired off two shots, hoping for at least a leg or shoulder hit.

 

[Yuri Maji]

HAKASSI | PRISON
ALLIES: TF | NEO | Kalah Redra
ENEMIES: DE | Marlon Sularen | Stevru Klamat
ENGAGING: Stevru Klamat
GEAR: In bio

MOVE YOUR BODY​

She wasted no time, nor minced any words, regarding her plans for him. Her compliments were less for flattery and more a simple statement of fact. Yuri didn’t get a chance to reply before she dropped her idea on him.

She wanted to shoot him out of a mass driver.

Wide-eyed and with pursed lips, Yuri stared at her for a moment. When she finally gave him a chance to respond, he felt like he didn’t have much say in the matter. Yet, a small voice in the back of his head kept whispering bad ideas into his mind. A maniacal grin slowly took hold until finally he gave a nod. ”Ballistic Beskar, at your service, ma’am.” He said with a two-fingered salute before slipping his helmet on.

"May the Force be with you, Maji. Or...what do you people say? Haran'gir give you strength."

He paused mid step to turn and face her again. It was odd to hear those words from someone outside of their creed. He couldn’t help but smile behind his visor. With a fist on his chest, he gave a small bow to the Admiral. ”This is the Way.” He remarked, departing for the magazine.

The autoloader slid him into the barrel of the enormous weapon and began to rotate. Through the long barrel, Yuri could see the enemy vessel in the distance. His heart raced with a mixture of fear and excitement, unable to not think back of a few stories he had heard in the Enclave while growing up.

The boom of the ion cannon shook the ship, announcing aht it was time for action. Yuri stiffened up and took a breath in anticipation for his chance barely a second later. The mass driver fired, the electromagnets grabbing hold of him and tossing him through space at a devastating speed. His jetpack began to slow him down as he approached the enemy flagship, waiting for the splash of the ion bolt to disrupt their shields and allow him entry.

He was smaller than any missile, any concern for being targeted was thrown out the window as he howled in excitement. The break finally came, and Yuri slipped into the perimeter of the ship in search of an entry point. Docking ring or maintenance hatch would be far too predictable. He began to look around, zipping past weapon emplacements and other important bits. A few thermal detonators on some of the guns could probably do some damage.

After planting a few explosives on some of the guns and launchers of Sularen’s ship, he found his point of entry. It looked to be a mess hall or some communal chamber of some sort with a big window to stare out into the stunning void outside. Yuri carefully placed a few thermal detonators on the window and moved back, tapping the detonator on his vambrace to destroy the window and vent all of the unsuspecting crewmen into space.

As they blasted out, he flew in before emergency shields could activate and seal the chamber up. He was in. :: Admiral, this is Maji. Made entry, movin’ to locate the target. :: He hailed the Admiral’s flagship with a secure frequency not used in well over forty years. An old Enclave frequency meant for situations just like this.

Yuri spared a moment to look around and hijack the ship’s layout from a nearby terminal. With everything sorted, the Hound pressed on with his rifle at the ready. Particle bolts and devastating savagery moved through the hallways of the enormous ship.

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Liberation.

It was a fleeting sight of the prisoners fleeing for safety to their liberators, before his attention turned to the pressing matter that was the droid. A small victory nonetheless.

As Antipater, too, grew tired of the dialogue, there was nothing left but to survive. To thrive, and conquer this place for his people. The expression was unseen from beyond the helm, but the tone of his voice bled through with all the zeal he truly held.

“I would have it no other way.”​

What point is there in following a leader who could not lead in battle? In joining a people who bandied nothing but empty words? War was their Way. Their lifeblood. Whether they lived or died, the Crusade would have achieved its aims nonetheless.

There were sudden movements from both sides as the conflict at last came to a head. The polearm shifted, but the dark trooper surprised him with unorthodox equipment his own people would use. Carduul’s trusted polearm was ensnared by the hexalloy nanothread—its wrap around the haft was swift, too sudden for even his seasoned reflexes. The pull threatened to divert his carefully honed strike.

Yet still, he tightened his grip and shifted his weight. T’was the third time, now, his enemies aimed to bring him closer, and he gladly obliged each time. He flowed with the momentum like a serpent, the polearm’s heavy blade arcing downwards. In the brief moment the cord was slack, he had aimed for the Dark Trooper’s wrist from where the cord originated, whilst footwork saw him step off-center towards the right for a better angle.

A test of his resolve. Of his enemy's resolve. Honor, he knew, was forged in the crucible of combat—etched in every swing of his blade, every clash of metal. The Empire would not be won over with diplomacy, but strength. And when all was done, his people would leave it greater than when they found it.

Antipater

 

[Mother Askani]

ITHOR | OBJ 1. JUNGLE FEVER | FOUNDATION
Set to engage: Darth Moskvin
Equipment: Psimitar | Bryar Pistol | Kimoyo Beads | Guardian Mantle | Lightsaber
(These are listed in the bio but wanted to list them here)

The air was thick with the scent of damp vegetation and smoke. The sky above roiled with the distant flashes of battle--starships clashing beyond the darkening cloud cover, their faint echoes rumbling through the trees like an approaching storm. Screams and blaster fire punctuated the air from beyond the settlement's edge, where the Mandalorians were making their advance.

Her comm crackled. "Mother Askani, we've secured the main evacuation route, but we're already seeing Mandalorian patrols pushing into the outskirts. We don't have much time."

Askani glanced toward the settlement. Ithorians--families, elders, and the like clutching woven satchels of whatever they could carry--moved in desperate clusters toward the waiting shuttles. Foundation medics rushed among them, bandaging wounds, carrying those who couldn't walk. Some Ithorians looked at her with silent gratitude; others with war-weary distrust.

She understood. The galaxy was a scary place. The Foundation could not leave them behind.

"Understood. Keep those routes open as long as you can. I'm going to the infirmary—there might still be too many lost in the chaos of it all and can't find their way." -- Least she assumed it to be an infirmary; it was some kind of facility that appeared to be inline with the sciences.

She turned, sprinting toward the makeshift medical/research shelter, ducking beneath felled columns, and singed hanging vines of the towering Ithorian trees. Inside, the air was thick with antiseptic and desperation. A young Ithorian healer looked up at her, wide-eyed. His tone was mournful, and he had a wave of exhaustion and desperation over him.

"You're the offworlders?" he asked in his melodic tones, "Your people come in warships, but you bring no war."

Askani nodded. "We came to get your people to safety. We don't have long. The Mandalorians will push further into the city soon, and the Dark Empire has no interest in protecting you. When they withdraw, the fighting will swallow everything, or they'll torch it before they let anyone else have it. We have to move. Now."

It seemed this facility was acting as both a medical and research center, likely put together during an emergency.

Her comm unit crackled. "Mother Askani, enemy skirmishers have breached the outer district. We have maybe ten minutes before they're at your doorstep."

"Then we don't have ten minutes," she muttered, then turned to the healer. "We move now. Prioritize the injured and your most vital research. Anything you can't carry, leave it."

The Ithorian hesitated for only a moment before nodding solemnly. He turned to his people, speaking in their native warbling tones.

Askani activated her comm. "We need the shuttles at the west entrance, now. Full perimeter cover."

"Understood, on our way."

-----

"What have I sacrificed? Everything..."
​

 

[Detritus Ren]

Location: Ithor, Imperial Compound, Jungle Floor.
Enemies: Mandalorian Crusaders, Brent Warnel
Allies: Dark Imperials ( Althenea | Atticus )

The alarms blared loudly across the darkened halls and tunnels. The Mandalorians had arrived and it was clear they desired plunder and to kill above all. Luckily for them so too was Detritus as he walked through the blinding darkness to reach out and meet them. The alarms continued to wail loudly as his eyes narrowed on the entrance before him. The door itself seemed to buckle under the efforts of the crusaders, not that Detritus could be surprised by such actions taken on by the warriors. In fact, he had welcomed this moment for a long time. Too long had it been since Detritus had faced Mandalorians in combat.

Then it finally happened. The entrance would give way and through the darkness he could make out the sight of T-visors. A smirk would slowly spread across his lips, he remained cloaked in the darkness unseen by the uninvited guests. Even his presence in the Force was detectable as he used the shadows as his cover. Then Detritus couldn’t explain it fully, but he felt the darkness swallow him into the abyss. As he stared at the Mandalorians quickly filling through to the entrance, he felt the darkness consume him, he felt fire within his own veins. He was ready to meet them head on.

Moments passed and all seemed to move so fast. His yellow eyes still watching the Mandos carefully until he finally made a move. One Mandalorian passing through the dimly lit tunnel would find himself thrown into the ceiling. The warrior was thrown against the ceiling several times before he crashed back towards the floor. The crusaders had stopped, all eyes scanning the body before them, weapons readying for anything. Then he moved. Through the darkness was the hiss activation of a lightsaber, an orange blade illuminated the darkness, the view of Detritus Ren becoming apparent through the darkness. Those same warriors that stared at the body of their fallen brother now had readied weapons for their attack.

The Mandalorians opened fire immediately. Colorful blaster bolts had illuminated the hall while Detritus would move. His steps were heavy and slow, but to the Mandalorians it seemed that Ren was moving too fast for their shots to be accurate. His crackling blade danced around shots, some of the bolts bounced off his burning blade and struck the Mandalorians who shot them. The closest one near Detritus would be brutally slashed through to the side, his blade avoiding the beskar armor targeting the unprotected areas. The next one would find himself being picked up with the Force and thrown into a volley of blaster fire unleashed by his comrades.

All the while the Mandalorians themselves steadily moved back from Detritus. Rather than stay in place only to be skewered by a lightsaber, the Mandalorians tried to draw Ren into them. Steadily backing up to add more battle brothers and sisters to stop the Ren. Within the blazing eyes of the Ren was nothing but raw and empowered rage that flowed through his veins. With a twirl of his blade would he roar and charge right for them. However, even as Ren would commence another round of his bloody onslaught, things didn’t appear as they were to be. The Mandalorians were luring the hulking zealot to them, forcing him to fight on their terms even if Detritus hadn’t known it just yet.

 

[Saverok]

Enemy: Onrai
Comm Tags: Brent Warnel Feydrik Munin Nelliel Kryze Vreegan Fett
​

The explosion swallowed him whole. A blinding eclipse of white.
Heat—searing, unbearable. The kind that ate through flesh and metal alike, reducing everything in its wake to char and smoke. He felt it on his face, his chest, his bones—yet there was no pain, no burning flesh. It should have hurt. It should have killed him.

But instead, bloomed nothing.

When the whiteness faded, everything had changed. No more jungle. No more warships. No more darktroopers. No more Ithor.

Before him stretched a smoldering cityscape, its streets blackened with soot, the air choked with ash. The distant roar of a volcano rumbled like a beast awakening, its slopes half-buried in molten rock and the skeletal remains of what had once been civilization. And the warriors—they were everywhere. He knew those shapes, those silhouettes of armor, the way they moved, the way their battle cries rang out. His Neo-Crusaders? No. Not them. Not exactly. But they were close. They wielded crude slugthrowers, clashed with blades against an unfamiliar enemy. Their voices—deep, guttural, but still Mandalorian. Except it wasn't. It was older. More raw. The words twisted in his mind, ancient and alien yet intimately familiar.

A voice—her voice. He turned. A green woman in an equally green dress, floating as though the world itself bent to her will. He did not trust his eyes. Did not trust any of this. Then the ash began to part. The volcano quaked, its eruption halted, frozen by some unseen force. The warriors these beings cheered. They surged forward, their shouts ringing in the air, their crude armor glistening in the firelight.

Then, he saw them.
The others.

They were different. Armored figures, hunched, powerful, their forms obscured by smoke and memory. Their presence made his skin crawl with a sensation he did not recognize. Something ancient. Something lost. Something Mandalorian.

"Taung sa rang broka Mando'ade ka'rta.
Dha Werda Verda a'den tratu,
Manda'yaim kandosii adu.
Duum motir ca'tra nau tracinya.
Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a."
​

The world blurred.

His head pounded as if it were being split in two. The cityscape fractured, bled into something else. Faces—thousands of them. Wars—dozens of them.

Confederation. Republic. Empire. Sith. Jedi. Crusades. Betrayal. War. War. War. His own past spiraled into the maelstrom, twisting into this dream—this nightmare. Flesh torn. Armor shattered. Clones marching. Jedi burning. The fall of Mandalore. The rise of Mandalore. The death of Mandalore.

The voices. His voices.
Reciting—chanting—roaring. Dha Werda Verda! Dha Werda Verda! The war poem of his people. His blood. His soul. He felt himself repeating it, his voice shaking, cracking, every word dragging him deeper into the dream. But something wasn't right. The heat on his skin, it was still there. The smell of burning flesh. The sting of fire chewing through muscle. But there was no fire here. Not in this vision. As Saverok focused and grounded his being the command took front attention.

"All squads, Phase III has begun,"

A voice, not from this illusion, but from somewhere beyond it. From somewhere real. Familiar. Mandalorian. His mind snapped back. The dream shattered like glass. And then—he felt everything. The pain. The fire. The dirt and duracrete against his back. The weight of his ruined beskar'gam. His body exposed and smoldered, his vision swimming, his throat muttering words of old and he finished reciting the epic not just for himself but for the Crusade! He was on Ithor again. Lying in the dirt, his skin charred, his voice a like gravel. And for the first time in a long, long time...he felt the weight of centuries apon him. Yet a flicker of defiance refused to go out. With a pivot of his helmet he scanned the scene wearily searching for the shadowy figure through a half broken helmet and visor.

"Kom'rk tsad droten troch nyn ures adenn.
Dha Werda Verda a'den tratu,
Manda'yaim kandosii adu.
Duum motir ca'tra nau tracinya.
Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a."

"Vode hear me!!
Kom'rk tsad droten troch nyn ures adenn.
Dha Werda Verda a'den tratu,
Manda'yaim kandosii adu.
Duum motir ca'tra nau tracinya.
Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a!!!"​

 

[Brent Warnel]

Phase III. Brent's men moved into the blown open doorway, fog and darkness coalescing around them as they seemed to shimmer in and out of existence as they entered. Comms chatter going back and forth between them.

"Watch right."

"Copy, I have right."

"I have left, no movement."

Brent moved up with them, but his job was not to be in the front of the stack. He was a leader now, no longer just a grunt. A hall boss, some would call him, others just a team leader. Brent monitored his men visually and through comm chatter, watching them push deeper into the entrance.

The first sign of contact was a Mandalorian being lifted off the ground and crushed into the roof over and over again before being tossed to the ground like scrap. The Mandalorians who had made entrance hesitated, as this unknown foe, or entity, had yet to show itself. It wasn't long before he did.

An orange glow blossomed from the darkness of the entrance, illuminating a being standing amid his men, a Sith. "Open up!" Brent screamed over the comms, eliciting a response from his warriors, who poured fire into the hallway. Blaster bolts lanced toward this unknown warrior, but none found their mark. He moved with a preternatural speed, reflecting every round toward Brent's men. The smoke and darkness seemed to coil around him, wrap around him, as he continued his deadly work. Blaster bolts lit up areas of the hallway in bits and pieces at a time, allowing Brent to see his men get cut down.

More and more rounds came from Brent's men and Brent himself, accurate fire from veteran soldiers, but still, they did not harm this being. Brent watched as Mandalorian after Mandalorian was cut down in the close confines of the hallway, unable to fight a Sith in close combat properly.

"Pull out! Back up! Lure him into the entrance opening. Surround him and then bring him down. We're useless in that hallway!" Brent spat into the comms as he continued to open fire toward the Sith. As the darksider continued to walk forward Brent's soldiers slowly backpedaled, luring him outside.

"Seal your suits," Brent barked, "Keep up the fire. I want ion and kinetic teams flanking!"

The darksider moved, too fast to counteract. The Sith was among them now at the entrance, cutting them down with little effort. Brent pulled a grenade from his pouches, eyeing it warily. This device was what he was here for. Or, more accurately, the chemical makeup inside this device was what he was here for.

Ixetal Cilona, this facility was refining a higher toxicity of this substance than had been found before. Its effect against force-users would make it something that all beings would want to utilize. If inhaled, it could damage their connection to the force for some time, allowing the battlefield to be equal for those non-force-users, or so goes the story.

It's time to find out if this gamble was worth it. Brent's jetpack gave a quick roar as he launched toward the Sith, intent on colliding with him. If he was able to, he would crush the grenade in his hand, hoping the other would inhale deep and damage their connection to the force.

Detritus Ren