You've been Hit by, You've been Struck by...

[Laira Darkhold]

Allies: [member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Coren Starchaser"]
Enemies: [member="Kaine Australis"]

Well the good news was the vast majority of the enemy forces were chasing Laira alone, while others peeled back to help deal with the Grutchin Swarm doing its job perfectly. Suddenly for the Resistance Fighters the numbers weren't so against them. Her shields splashed with weapons fire, some going wide from her fancy flying, some missing, but her shields were still getting lit up since so many had pulled away to deal with her instead of the squadron.

"Hey Jorus, I don't know if you can see this, but that's Laira with the two full flights chasing the X-Wing." She figured she'd be a solid distraction, she wasn't aware that one fancy maneuver would warrant a full third of the fighters deployed to the air, but that worked pretty well for her. The other pilots were suddenly in a much better position to deal with the remaining sixteen fighters in the relief group as their numbers were about even now, good news for the modern X-90's in combat.

If Jorus could slash at some of these fighters trying to gang up on her, they could turn this around in a hurry. More if Coren took over the main group.

She yawed on the yoke, slamming the flaps to suddenly reverse thrust, the laser bolts directed at her from multiple angles slicing through thin air. Crossfires were great, until the thing you were shooting at ducked and it put your buddies at risk. Jack One through Eight could cut their own thrust to try and realign their target vectors or overshoot.

"Power to engines, I have a need. A Need for speed." Green light turned back to blue for her weapons and the little astromech started clicking away at boosting her engine power.

If they overshot she could line up and start dropping torpedoes on them as she boosted, and if they slowed she could accelerate and dump a torpedo at a slow moving fighter instead of a fast a nimble one. Let's see how long she could win at cat and mouse.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Prison
Allies: Death | Also [member="Talia Fett"]
Enemies: [member="Silas Mantis"]

The Hound of Death clung to the ceiling above Talia fett, watching quietly as the two Mandalorian sects exchanged fire with one another below him, the walls at either end of the corridor being chewed by blaster and slugthrower rounds.

One. Two.

The Fett woman hadn't piqued his interest as of yet, though if the Hound was honest he had at first considered her to be a viable target to be marked. Death didn't loom over her like it did the others of their group, waiting for them to make a mistake to claim them which normally meant something special. Either she was competent or Illyria cared nothing for her soul.

Three. Four. Five.

On the other end of the hallway there was much of the same, little difference between the two types of Mandalorians as far as the hunter was aware of, their strange alien beliefs leading them all down the same path with little variation.

Six. Seven. Eight.

One did catch his sight, not for being marked. But because he was shouting orders and shooting at those he supposedly called allies for this. Sighing, the Hound relented, he would stain himself with unmarked blood to prove himself once again.

Nine.

The weapon primed, its systems clicking and cycling up to finish charging the main blast.

Ten.

The destructive explosive particle bolt fired aimed for the ground in the middle of the hallway where it could detonate against the floor and disorient or kill those shooting from the defenders positions. The bolt would be large, intended for anti-vehicle uses but in tight corridors any explosion wasn't good.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Tal Vizsla"]


Mechanical aid. Verily, it was an apt observation, but a flawed one. For Enyo was entirely mechanical aid at this point. She was a highly specialised cyborg, more machine than human. The women she used to be was assuredly still inside there. Maintained by twisted, monstrous science. She had the Jedi and her Creators to thank for this shell. In an ironic twist of fate, both had done her a favour. The Jedi had destroyed her body by raining hellfire down upon Korriban City, whilst her Creators had violated her by entrapping her brain in a mechanical shell and twisting her mind. Sacrifice had been her key to freedom. Her thinking process was a blend of organic intuition and droid logic sensors and protocol routines. Able to perform calculations at a rapid pace and react accordingly.


As it stood, Enyo had already safely evaded the reach of the organic's powerhammer as he swung it with the intent to pulverise her with a single mighty wallop. The Cyborg had fed from the momentum provided by him, with further assistance from the weight of her own weapon. It had been accomplished by the first motion of her droid body, as her feet expertly and meticulously shifted her robotic chassis around. So while she spun, dipping her maul low before it rounded over her shoulder and swung down, her gaze caught the man's hammer as it thrummed past her and out of his grasp.


It was a tiny interval of time. Minuscule, if measured. She had the advantage in the opening stanza. She felt her maul just barely place a kiss upon the organic's shoulder. The contract was all too brief, but relayed a good deal of knowledge to her. Under other circumstances, the maul's kiss would have been accompanied by the sound of splintering bones. This did not occur here.


The Cyborg was once more in motion again. For her body was already reacting after the attack, once again drawing upon the energy of her weapon to follow through towards the ground, arms twisting to angle the heavy end of her weapon, directing it away from the ground and around outside of her hip and back. One hand loosening, climbing along the handle until it lay perfectly spaced above the other. But she did not strike, though now she had the chance to attack as ferociously as he had earlier attempted against her.


The machine in her did not proceed as one might have expected. The hybrid did not press forward. Rather than go on the offensive, her maul assumed a defensive posture afront her chest. She had noticed something about this organic. She could not feel the Force emanating from inside his armour. Nothing. Just an endless void. Emptiness. Enyo was not wholly unfamiliar with such creatures, who were commonly and somewhat inaccurately, labelled as Force Dead.


Her Creators had educated her about them, though her schooling had been largely about Yuuzhan Vong, for the abominations were the avowed enemies of machinery. Unable to be sensed in the Force without application of the esoteric technique called Vongsense, immune to mind tricks and unable to be affected by a variety of direct Force powers.


But the Force Dead were not immune to the Force. Lightning cooked, but her mechanical nature prohibited her from unleashing scalding blasts of electricity from her fingertips. Likewise, pyromancy worked. So did affecting the air in their lungs and popping said lungs by overfilling them. Moreover, you could use the Force to affect their equipment. For it was the man that was Force Dead, not his gear. In this case, her focus was upon his armour.


And so her feet plunged backward, pulling her away a bit. The armour itself was her target. Through the Force, she attempted to affect it. Her template, Siobhan Kerrigan, wielded great, almost obscene power as a master of telekinesis. Enyo was powerful, but could not match her prowess in this field. However, she was highly proficient in the art of mechu-deru. In short, she was a technopath, able to manipulate droids, electronics, machinery and such.


Her ethereal eyes beheld a whole battery power cells inside his armour. The full details escaped her, but this knowledge was enough to compel her reach out with her mind and flood them with her power. Her intent was quite simple: Make them light up like a Life Day tree and trigger an overload of some sort. Failing that, damage to them should bode poorly for his suit.

 

[Silas Mantis]

Location: Prison
Allies: [member="Tal Vizsla"], [member="Quoron Viszla"], [member="Kaine Australis"], [member="Karsan Calnov"]
Enemies: [member="Talia Fett"] | [member="Darzhur"]
Objective: Come get it

Silas caught a glimpse of the bolt, just a glimmer was all he needed to know that something bad was coming. He hurled himself forward, heat and concussive force washing over the Mandalorian and sending him tumbling down the hall.

He didn't need to look back to know several more of his comrades had just been killed, had he checked he'd heave seen his numbers had just dropped to two active fighters, with another wounded. The troops didn't require any instruction, immediately they swapped to thermal vision on their HUD's and opened fire on the cloaked hunter.

Even with the force knocking him down, his blaster clattering across the floor, Silas didn't stop once. Rolling up and onto his feet in a display of remarkable agility for someone his size. Nothing escaped his lips but a primal snarl as twin tomahawks found their way into his hands, he had a fight to finish, and he'd have to trust in his comrades to keep the newcomer off his back.

If they failed, well, then things really would get interesting.

 

[Talia]

Talia's men had already peeled away, but having stepped back round the corner, the kiffar caught the shockwave of the blast. it threw her back into the wall with a crunch and she dropped to one knee. "Kriffing demonwalker." she complained, shaking her head free of the rattle. She looked up the corridor, the blast had left bodies in its wake, two of the Mantis squad remained, targetting Dar the other...

Talia let her shotgun hit the floor, sliding her beskad free, she activated the light-shield on her bracer, force surging through her legs to push her forward with inhuman speed. She'd ram Silas shield first, beskad sliding beneath it, seeking to puncture the soft point between armour plates on his upper thigh.

[member="Silas Mantis"] [member="Darzhur"]

 

[Mia Monroe]

Enemies: [member="Kaine Australis"]
Allies: [member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Laira Darkhold"]

Angel was late to the party, almost too late if the coloured dots on her sensors were to be believed. Today she flew as Black One, leading the first flight of the squadron. Only four fighters, but they were four of the best the resistance had. "Check in." she called, locking her s-foils into attack position and directing them around the grutchin field.

"Black Two, standing by."

"Black Four, standing by"

"Black Three, locked and loaded."

Angel grinned at the refusal to stick to protocol, but opted not to comment. There were bigger things to worry about than a mouthy pilot who was more than capable of holding his own. A quick sweep over the battle and she flashed their target up across the sensors. "Looks like Red's bitten off more than she can chew. Form up, let go give them something else to think about."

Full power to her engines, Angel led the race across space, meeting Laira nose to nose. "Red, this is Black Leader, bank left on my mark." A distinct hum ran through her, instinct taking over as she lined up the shot. "Mark."

A sharp burst of fire and the proton erupted short of its target, the explosion knocked her shields down by ten percent, not enough to worry about. The fighter who'd launched the torpedo received a face full of quad laser fire. They'd explode or scramble, either way.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Angel"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Laira Darkhold"] [member="Kaine Australis"]

Another stray hit dropped Jorus' shields to twenty percent. Something popped farther back in the A-Wing's fuselage, and thin smoke filtered through the cockpit. A light interceptor like this didn't have the guts for prolonged engagements. With shields this low, sympathetic detonation could turn him into a fireball in a heartbeat: now wasn't the time to save up concussion missiles. A stock RZ-1 replica carried twelve. He began spamming them in pairs toward Jacks One through Six at moderate range, hoping to steal some of their attention from Laira before the enemy interceptors slashed in.

Not much else he could do but chart an escape route. You took your chances with ship selection on a mission like this, and he'd gambled wrong. What he wouldn't have given for a tough freighter with a couple of turrets-

Or a half squadron of X-Wings screaming in like a cavalry charge. Jorus peeled off and clawed for clear sky as Angel and Black Squadron did their thing.

 

[Silas Mantis]

Location: Prison
Allies: [member="Tal Vizsla"], [member="Quoron Viszla"], [member="Kaine Australis"], [member="Karsan Calnov"]
Enemies: [member="Talia Fett"] | [member="Darzhur"]
Objective: Come get it

The attacker was physically dwarfed by Silas, but all the same she hit like a gravtrain as he'd expected. Even as he'd sunk his hips and rushed to meet her, the woman's acceleration gave her and edge. Her energy shield met his guantleted arm, Silas sliding back as he strained to halt her, but he knew better than to think she'd stop with a simple ramming.

His prosthetic swung down, tomahawk meeting the beskad and knocking it off course, the blade skimming over his skin rather than plunging into it. The beskar edge cut open the body suit beneath it, blood immediately beginning to trickle from the laceration. It was not dangerous, but it was painful enough and the Mandalorian warrior let out a grunt in response.

Quickly his knee shot upwards at the Fett, as much force as he could muster behind the lightning attack. it could've hit her in the gut and knocked the wind out of the woman, or it could've impacted her chest plate and done nothing but cause some slight discomfort as beskar bang against beskar, it didn't matter. He was only trying to create a modicum of distance between them.

Assuming his retaliatory strike worked, he'd follow up just as quickly as he countered. His prosthetic arm would lash out with a savage chop at Tallia's shoulder, hoping to land squarely between the gaps and take a bite of flesh and bone out of her. The thought danced in his mind of trying to keep her alive, he had questions for her about one Rel Connory, not for the Empire, but for himself.

That was his failing alone, and his to make right alone, but that was wishful thinking for a man engaging a master of the Force and a Demonwalker in close quarters and he knew it. Survival was paramount at the moment, everything else, even revenge, came second at the moment.

 

[Jak Skirata]

The warrior didn't even flinch when he started his attack. His reflexes were faster than he anticipated however and he was forced to interrupt the attack and brought the saber down hard across the shotgun, cleaving it mid shot. The barrel erupted sending Davin back a few feet, shrapnel caught between the wide spaces in his armor in his tunic. He could feel the durasteel, still hot, burning away at his arms and legs.

His weapon deactivated as he quickly assessed the damage to himself. The adrenaline kept most of the heat focused in his arms, but he could tell from the growing red splotches on his pants that he was bleeding there too. Talia's voice over the radio reminded him of why he was here. He didn't have time for Vilaz. His eyes fell on the Mandalorian, still obscured from the smoke of the gun's demise.

"Out of my way Munin!" If he wanted he could have tossed the man across the room, but he wouldn't let the Force be the one who won this.

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

There was a commotion happening on the other side. He could hear it now, even through the toilet water. Explosions. What was happening, who was attacking the prison? For a moment the Gen'dai's concentration dipped from the explosions and Gil used the time to retaliate. Whoever was attacking wasn't a friend of the Mando'ade or they wouldn't risk assaulting any instillation private or otherwise on Mykyr, a known Mandalorian stronghold world.

His elbow slammed into the slightly dense tentacle mass of the Gen'dai. It grunted and another elbow came up to where its ribs would be if it were any other humanoid species. It sent him to the ground. Gil didn't bother waiting for him to get up. He bolted.

 

[Atsushi Ono]

Mandalore - Shriek-Hawk Headquarters

Kark, kark, kark, kark, kark, kark, kark! Dorn stormed through the halls towards the command room of Shriek-Hawk's coordinating offices.
"Get me someone, anyone from the Mandalorian Empire! We cannot allow this prison to fall!"

"Sir, they're already on site." His hand gripped the young Mandalorian's throat, his crushgaunts tightening.

"He cannot escape."

"H-Who, sir?" he choked out. Dorn tossed the man across the room in rage.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Myrkr Sky
[member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Angel"]
[member="Kaine Australis"]

Laira punched her engines and accelerated hard around, the six fighters still very busy with the young redhead. The mandalorian pilots were experienced, but it was pretty standard imperial tactics. Chuck a crap load of fighters at the one that looked important and hope for the best. At least it made the rest of the fight much more even for the Resistance forces.

As the torp closed in, Laira popped her chaff lasers and the missile disappearing into the cloud with a massive boom, sparking along her shields but she was otherwise still alive as she emerged from the cloud of dampener smoke and sensor scrambling particles.

She spun the X-Wing around hard, diving low towards the ground where she could use her speed and stealth to avoid more shots taken at her and lead the half squadron further away from the main fight. Coren and Jorus could handle the rest with the Resistance squadron, or what was left of it. The Interceptors were arriving to help out the six of their own fighters now that had been pretty severely outnumbered since half had ran off after one fighter.

The grutchin were still doing a good job of occupying the Mandalorian Empire fleet, having been an absolute crapload it wasn't likely they were gonna die to one ship without getting some punches of their own in.

Overall, not the worst situation she'd been in. The last time she'd faced off against a half squadron of Mandalorian Fighters alone she'd been in a shuttle and still managed to put up some kills before making it off to hyperspace. As the X-Wing spun low, Black One arrived on the scene and reinforced her position, blasting away at her pursuers while she focused on flying defensively and avoiding as much fire as she could.

 

[zruyo]

as i disengage the hyper drive i see a little fight going on and decide i will get info from that ship now i land my ship and activate my lightsaber pike cutting everyone and thing that gets in the way "i came here for info and i most certainly am not leaving without it" i look back at the fight and a figure catches my eye "is she a jedi" i mutter i then shake my head i chose bounty hunter life for a reason i mentally scolded myself i see the the target in sights then my thoughts flashed back to the fight outside "for a rancors sake" i yet scold myself my pike blade ignites and start hacking and slashing i then force choke the last adversary before walking to my ship

 

[Julius Sedaire]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cN9jTnxv0RU​

​

Location: Prison
Allies: Mandalorian Exiles & Resistance, also [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Talia Fett"] | [member="Davin Skirata"]
Enemies: Everything ME. [member="Karsan Calnov"]
Gear: Sahsahlah - Lightsaber | Spare No-Frills Lightsaber | Shelo'val Coat | Ori'ramikade Eukar'gam | Bryar Pistol

As he spun into the room of the controls, the bryar pistol came up and began barking and blasting with zero discrimination. A flash-bang hit the floor and he closed his eyes, tucking and rolling with the bryar pistol falling to the floor as his lightsabers ignited and stabbed forward and through a senior security sergeant. Bodies hit the floor in a trio, all lightly or non-armored technical personnel. Their security was elsewhere fighting threats, and so this location was minimally defended.

Standing, he picked up the bryar and holstered it, and then slid a security key from his armor into the console. Systems lights began blinking and thrumming as they powered down. Sections of the prison that were shielded were no longer. Automated systems that the console could reach, which with the key from his armor and after a denial, the badge-pass from the sergeant, were considerable, were also terminated. Any defense droids it could reach were turned on the personnel running the prison, or on anyone they could tag as from the Mandalorian Empire, as were any automated defenses. Inside or out, the entire station turned on the usurpers who somehow had been in charge of a private prison as if it were government ran. Or so it seemed to him. Of course, he was barely proficient with these operations, so there weren't any redoubts or redundancies to keep things swayed to them. But even a few seconds of Chaos would be enough to turn the tide or at least give them a moment to regroup, and he sent out comms to the Exiles and Resistance channels he had access to to alert them to the changes.

Last, but not least, with a flourish of his pinky finger he clicked the doors to every cell in the entire prison open.

"Lets dance then, pardners..."

A nod to the downed bodies, and he picked up and clipped on his deactivated lightsabers and strode out with the bryar pistol at the ready to the next target. Behind him the doors rumpled inward as a thermal detonator went off in the office, cutting off anyone nearby from just switching it off as easily as he had.

 

[Tal Vizsla]

[member="Enyo Typhos"]


His hammer simply flew by to crash against the hangar deck behind her as she continued her spin out of his reach.

Her hammer smashed into his vambrace and his armor reacted, saving him the agony of a broken limb.

Then she stopped.

And stood.

And stared.


What is she...? Oh, right.

It took him a second to work it out, what she was trying to do. His proximity sensors would have told him if she'd lifted something out of his field of view to hurl at him, and he'd have seen the effects of lightning by now. Which left a direct effect, targeted at him or his equipment.

It was unfortunate then, that he was no Yuuzhan Vong. He focused around himself, reaching out with his mind and pushing his influence further than it could inherently go. The force around him twisted and warped, her powers being rendered inert even before they touched his armor.

Having no notion of the type or manner of her attack beyond his capacity to sense intent, he simply reacted, drawing the grahala'shok from his right hip and squeezing the trigger three times in succession. Each blast targeted for her mid-section.

Or they would have been, if he'd gotten off more than a single shot. Unfortunately, the numbness in his right hand wasn't going to make things easy, and he only managed a single trigger pull before his lack of sensation and powered fist crushed the pistol's grip outright.

Kriff.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Tal Vizsla"]


A blaster bolt splashed against her armour, connecting with the side of her torso as she moved. There was punch behind it and her suit took some damage. It caused Enyo to get pushed back a bit, but she planted her feet firmly on the ground. Having a phrik endoskeleton came in handy. Her hammer remained in position.


For a moment, the Cyborg's red eyes flashed behind her human irises before resuming their normal colour. The hybrid stretched out with the Force, for she continued to wield it. To be precise, she wrapped her telekinetic willpower around a huge, extremely heavy cargo container behind the Mandalorian. Lifting and levitating it with her power, she raised it and sought to drop it on top the Mandalorian and ideally bury him beneath it. Blunt trauma tended to work even on the most bizarre creatures.

 

[Tal Vizsla]

[member="Enyo Typhos"]


Ah, there it is.

As if on cue, proximity alarms blared in his helm as the container rose from behind him, presumably as a means to crush him outright. It might even have been heavy enough to do so, but he wasn't going to stick around to find out. Even standing just outside of melee range, she was no more than two long steps away. Levitating and moving the crate into position would take both focus and time, much more time than he would need to take those two steps and close with her.

Before the crate had covered half the distance he was on her, tossing the ruined blaster aside as he moved. With his now-free right hand, he reached out for the woman, aiming to grab her around the throat even as he reached out with his mind, extending his nullifying influence to encase her form entirely.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Laira Darkhold"] [member="Angel"]

"Good assist, Black. I've lost shields, lost guns." He'd expected King Squadron, but expectation hadn't blunted their edge. If he hadn't pulled away before they arrived, he'd have lost more than just his tactical systems. On the plus side (in the slimmest sense), he could shunt all those systems' power allocation to engines and make serious distance. He proceeded to do so.

"Sorry folks. Can't do any more good back there. They so much as sneeze and I'm a fireball. Angling for exit."

 

[Vilaz Munin]

The cleaved shotgun would also send Vilaz backwards as the barrel, while shooting scattered pellets at Davin, caused a small explosion. Nothing fatal, but it’d knock the wind out of him.

A pity to have his scattergun fall victim to blade of the Skirata’s lightsaber. It was one less weapon on him, but he would keep on going. He’d kill this traitor and collect his lightsaber as a trophy as he had a fond over collecting some belonging of any foe he vanquished and added it to his treasure of trophies. Maybe Davin’s buy’ce too.

It seemed that Davin wasn’t interested in fighting Vilaz over the dialogue. A shame for him as Vilaz would pursue him unless he was dead, knocked out, or distracted by something else. He could only guess that the infiltrators were here to free the prisoners incarcerated in this prison. The Munin would have every prisoner killed if it came to that so that their mission was a failure.

”The fight’s not over, you damn Skirata,” the warlord said as he drew out his beskad and activated the dinu’ul shielding on his left gauntlet and charged at the Mandalorian. No quarter would be shown.

[member="Davin Skirata"]

 

[Talia]

[member="Silas Mantis"]

His knee connected with her chest with a clang and moved her back a pace, Talia stepped straight back in to meet his follow up strike, shield artm rising to catch the blow. The shield spat its distaste and she swiped outwards with a controlled swing, looking to score a line across his abdomen.

She didn’t fight with anger, she wasn’t really fighting with the intention of killing either, not unless she had to. This was a time absorber and nothing more.

Time none of them had.

Tactical readout from the battle above told her they really were cutting it fine. She gritted her teeth and prayed.