Overlord - Battle For Mandalore

[Proleptic]

Sundari, Mandalore
​

A light breeze drifted through the large, open courtyard of Mandalore's capital city, Sundari. The sunlight glinted off of the brightly shining armor of on Jemma Rhi'mans, the Duchess of this great world, as it peeked through a gap in the clouds. The otherwise grey sky was as a blank slate, as if waiting for the history of the day to be written in its surface. The rays of sunshine bled through the gap, bathing the courtyard in its own bubble of light.

As quickly as the sun had peeked through it was gone, leaving them once again in the light of morning, shrouded by the cloudy skies. Jemma was feeling greater anticipation than she could remember having in many years. Even her nervousness heading into the No Mando'a mission didn't come close to superseding this, though her raw disgust at that mission had far exceeded it. She was just glad that she had Prudii here with her. There was nobody she would rather share this moment with.

Glancing over at the Mand'alor with admiration in her eyes, Jemma thought back to all the missions they had been on together, and she couldn't help but feel immensely proud of all he had done since discovering his true heritage, and taking the mantle that he rightfully deserved. Despite any and all failures he exhibited, however great or minor they may be, and whether mistakes of the past or the future, Jemma's undying loyalty and love for the man was set in stone.

It was probably something to do with her obvious insanity. Jemma felt like this was a long time coming. Of course, a great deal of planning had gone into this assault, and it had been years in the making, working through various leaders of the evolving group of true Mandalorians, but for some reason she felt like she had been waiting and waiting and WAITING for this moment, particularly in the last few weeks. It was almost as if someone was stalling the battles.

As Jemma came up on the door, the Mandalorian guards standing at the sides of the entrance to the palace gave them blank looks, and didn't bother moving to stop them. Jemma didn't provoke them at all, and simply raised her hand in greeting. "Hey fellas. Hope your day isn't too boring," Jemma said brightly, brushing past the men as they looked incredibly bored with their guard duty.

Jemma strolled briskly through the front doors of the building, calming her jittery feelings slightly. She was laced with excitement, and it was making her antsy for this to begin.

Continuing onward, Jemma went immediately to the lift, and took it straight up to the floor they needed, and when the doors slid open, Jemma's eyes widened in longing. The throne room of Mandalore sat before her in all its spectacular glory, and Jemma's desire to liberate the world of its unfortunate leadership only grew. The throne was unoccupied at the moment, meaning good old Brav Orale was likely otherwise occupied.

It was about a hundred meters long, and fifty wide. It had a large spacious roof, about 15 meters up, with ornate pillars leading to artistic yet functional set of rafters that stretched across the entire roof. All across the walls were stained-glass windows, and behind the turbolift car were a series of private rooms which meetings could be taken to. One such room also existed about 5 meters behind the throne - the Mand'alor's office.

Jemma stepped off the turbolift, waiting for Prudii to do the same before firing a shot into the turbolift controls, forcing the doors to slide shut and disabling the lift. Nobody would be coming up that way, so they had some privacy with those on the floor, for the moment. Jemma licked her lips beneath her mask in anticipation for what was to come. This was what they had been waiting for.

This was where they would take back their world. Mandalore would be as the phoenix—consumed in fire, only to be reborn from the ashes, with majesty even greater than before.

 

[Prudence]

Prudii had thanked every deity in existence that Jemma had chosen not to blast the guards at the gates. He could see it now, the pair being forced to fight their way into the capitol due to alarms and security because Jemma couldn't keep her pistol holstered for four seconds. However she had chosen a more sane approach today, and the pair entered the capitol. Two ordinary looking Mandalorians, there was no reason to scrutinize them, as the Republic had no idea of what was to come... not yet. The Mandalorian had felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement towards this battle all through the growing week, but had managed to keep his nerves under control the entire day. Knowing that the possibility of Jedi assisting the Republic was high he had been sure to curb any wayward thoughts or anxiety, as to not set off a Force user feeling for him.

As they were strolling through the lobby towards the lift Prudii dug into one of his pockets and withdrew a neatly folded flimsiplast list. On it was listed his entire set of gear, something he, or anyone else with access, could review to see what he was carrying. He began to go through the list, brandishing his XPC-71, locked into a harness on his chest, and mentally checked it off. Then reached a hand behind him, feeling the butt of his MBR-701 mag-locked to his back plate. Then the collapsible Phrik Sword-length vibroblade, still very much attached to his belt. He then felt around his belt some more, and found Djura Volfe's Purple Lightsaber. Oh how very pleased Jemma had been to melt the Jedi's face off, and give it to Prudii as a trophy. Emilgotha's Blue lightsaber, as well, had not snuck off his belt and was still snugly attached. He then found his way to his hip/thigh holsters, where he found that his dual-phase pistol, and sunspear pistol, were still very much in their holsters - thank manda they hadn't been stolen by a street urchin. Indeed his 2 firespray grenades were still there, as were his 2 thermal detonators, 2 supernova grenades, and 2 EMP grenades. A glance at his gauntlets indicated that his vibroblade, blaster, flamethrower, & missile launcher were all there as well. In fact, the glance had also confirmed that he was still wearing his Mandalorian armor. Another feeling gesture of his hands confirmed that his medkit, comm unit, datapad, SOS beacon, and spare powerpacks were still stored away in their own pouches on his belt, each small enough to fit inside. He considered, briefly, whether or not he should take his helmet off to make sure his Audio Frequency Modulators were still inside, but he would go out on a line of hope and assume they were still inside. During his equipment check the pair had already reached the lift, and part of this had taken place during the ride. All during his check, had someone come into view or attempted to interrupt him, Prudii would stop and engage.

It wasn't until he reached the throne room that Prudii felt the excitement well back up in him, and the thought of what was to come as they freed this world. Already in his hands he held his XPC-71, secured to his chest via a harness incase he needed to drop it at a moment's notice. The Mandalorian had begun recording on his HUD when he entered the lift, incase anything discovered in this fight would become useful at a later point.

He stood beside Jemma as they stepped into the room, and steeled himself for whatever was to come. He was certain, however, that this pathetic Mandalore would not go down without a fight.

 

[Micah Aldamar]

The amount of weaponry alone that the Pretender and his woman were carrying was enough for anyone in Sundari, be it on the street or on monitoring duty of the streets from CCTV sensors to alert them who and what was approaching the Mandalorian palace. Word had been brought in that they'd been on their way in and so, predicted attacks would begin. Micah and his companion had been made aware during a visit well ahead of time of the approach and some simple preparations had been made. The guards had been informed to let them past rather than fight, after all, it would not do well to throw wasted lives against those who would be of considerable skill in comparison. Instead they'd been ordered to take up defensive positions elsewhere. The emergency tunnels had been activated for the civilians to flee through and were under heavy guard as this conflict was about to get ugly.

Micah had done some quick preparations of his own during the approach. His own sword, lightsaber, rifle and pistols were on his person as well as a small collection of grenades on his person. Namely two Ion Grenades, two Thermal Detonators and two KO grenades. As the turbo-lift rose Micah prepared one of his Thermal Detonators with it set to contact detonation. He had been standing forty meters away from the Lift and on an angle as to avoid being instantly spotted from those exiting the door as the little light atop the doors flicked off the floor below, he hurled the Grenade at the floor directly in front of the turbolift with unerring accuracy so as they'd step out and the woman would turn to fire at the door control panel the grenade would hit the ground directly in front of the two and explode. There'd be almost no time for them to move unless they managed to spot the weapon The radius, ten meters of explosive force and fire would be enough to more than likely cause significant damage to the lift, to the people and anything else caught within the incredible blast radius that these weapons had.

He had no time for words, no time for discussion and discourse. It was time to end this threat here and now with no survivors.

 

[Malmourral [old]]

Crises made for the strangest alliances. With riots on Concord Dawn and the situation on the streets of Mandalore's numerous cities equally tense, the destabilisation of the sector had left many concerned with the future of the planet - and the continued membership to the Republic, along with the trade benefits that came along.

Certainly, there were many vested interests. Mandalore's continued usage as a training ground and barracks for the Republic's military in the region made it more vital than ever to maintain strong ties, particularly for planets on the frontier of Sith influence. Dathomir boasted an armed force of her own, of course, but local security and Nightsister witches were no substitute for hardened soldiers. Stability had to be ensured in the name of continued, mutual prosperity.

So it was that Malmourral, Senator of Dathomir, found herself personally attending the planet Mandalore to observe the local unrest and determine a course of action. House within the Royal Palace itself as a guest of honor, she diligently spent countless hours courting the nobility and enduring the countless protocols of a recieved guest. As the shadows of civil was lengthened, however, fewer took to the throne room, and the throne remained empty, the Mandalore taking to private quarters to consider the dark clouds that were gathering.

So it was that the throne room was particularly empty as the storms clouds gathered overhead - a few petitioners here and there, and a particularly hulking feline soldier of some sort, but the full retinue of the Mandalore was not to be seen, nor was the Mandalore himself. Instead, only scant few guards in their ceremonial uniforms stood guard.

Still, security was hardly lax - the notification of a breach in protocol was taken particularly seriously, given the circumstances, and as the Senator looked on, the worried petitioners were ushered out of the hall while the feline soldier moved quickly into a position angular to the turbolift. Normally, Malmourral would have allowed herself to be ushered away, but instead she felt something calling to her, a reason to stay - hardly something she could put her finger on, but all the more intriguing for it. Though hardly unarmed - on Mandalore, openly displaying ones arms was akin to wearing jewellery in other cultures, and so the Senator had opted for a intricately carved phrik Versistaff, which she held on one hand, extended to full quarterstaff length akin to a scepter of office. In addition, two lightsabers were modestly strapped to the small of her back and concealed beneath a well-placed length of fabric that followed the contour of her spine, concealing them from view, and her left hand was encased in a clawed phrik gauntlet, which allowed her to draw the plasma string of the Versistaff if she so desired. A chromium blaster was attached to her right hip, balancing the metallic components of her outfit, which were otherwise a dark, practical and modest affair.

Considering such modest equipment still sufficient for the conflict ahead, the Senator took up position nearly equal in distance, if not a meter closer to the turbolift door as the feline soldier, but square in the middle of the room instead. Her hands clenching her carved staff with anticipation, the clouds above rumbled with thunder, and darts of silver danced through the gray clouds.

Taking her cue from the feline soldier as he threw a grenade, Malmourral's thin, dark lips parted, and a piercing screech filled the air in a broad cone in front of her, power filling the airwaves as she screamed at the interlopers and shattering the transparisteel windows of the far end of the hall. As the grenade sailed through the air, simultaneously would the attackers' ears be assaulted by the screech of Malmourral's cry, which would disorient and stun them for as long as it took the pair to adjust their sound dampening equipment - precious moments where they would be utterly unable to focus on the grenade that would explode at their very feet as the Witch's fel screech continued to assault their senses. Even if Malmourral's scream abated, the ringing would continue for some time and muffle all other sound - a harmful side effect to the power the Witch brought down upon the pair.

@Proleptic

 

[Prudence]

The plan had been altered for sure. Prudii and Jemma had intended on peacefully exiting the lift and blasting the panel before engaging whoever it was that had been sent to fight them. However, before the turbolift they were riding in had even reached their destination floor Prudii could hear an earsplitting shriek, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass. The shriek sustained as they lift rose, and Prudii realized whoever it was, they were intending to blast him with the shriek. It grew louder as the lift rose, and Prudii programmed his HUD to to lower all high pitched sounds to a safe level. It may dull any higher pitches, but it would save him from the scream - and as stated earlier, had someone come into view or attempted to interrupt him, Prudii would stop and engage.

When the doors opened Prudii was already primed and ready to engage, and what he would almost certainly see was quite disconcerting to him. He would almost certainly see the GAR Supreme Commander lying unconscious on the floor, beside a screaming Malmourral, with a grenade arcing towards their position. The Supreme Commander was lying unconscious, likely, because he was a Felinoid species, which were characterized, among other things, as having heightened senses. The scream, which could shatter glass at 39 meters range, had almost certainly rendered the Supreme Commander unconscious, as he had been doing nothing to defend against auditory attacks at the time of the scream. When he awoke, which would likely be a long while, the Supreme Commander would also likely had shattered eardrums, further affecting his balance & hearing.

The grenade, however, he had time to react to. Had he and Jemma exited the lift as planned, with her exiting first, the grenade would have hit as she was turning around to blast the control panel. Now, however, that the scream had tipped him off he had a moment to react. Making these observations in the breadth of a moment, Prudii leapt out of the turbolift and kicked his jetpack on immediately - soaring upward towards the rafters. The grenade struck the ground in a fiery detonation, catching him mid-flight. He felt the heat wash over his legs. His feet, being the closest to the explosion, took the brunt of it. His armoring on his feet protected them from damage from the blast, but the trade off was that the plates were completely compromised - and offered him no protection now - leaving his hoverboots unprotected. The blast had also caught the tail end of his Kama, and burned a good deal of it midway up - so that it offered far less protection than before. His jetpack managed to push him far enough up, however, that this was the extent of the damage that he took from the blast.

As soon as he had begun to fly, Prudii squeezed his trigger 3 times as he aimed his weapon towards Malmourral. As fast as he was flying the bolts would not be the definition of accuracy, but they would require that the Witch cease her infernal screaming and deflect or dodge them - lest she risk taking a hit on her unarmored form.

Spoiler: ooc

Some explanation for my post:

Krajin throws his grenade at the turbolift before we have even arrived (which is meta by the way. I'm choosing to just roll with it rather than delay the fight even more). Malmourral began screaming as Micah was throwing his grenade, which again was before we even arrived on the floor, and would be something that Prudii & Jemma could hear before the arrive. This is additional stimuli to our posts, and I had already indicated that Prudii was waiting for an interruption, thus how I was able to activate the AFMs.

Though I stated everything about Micah being unconscious in hypothetical terms, he would definitely be unconscious. He is a feline species and you are doing a superscream that is shattering glass. I checked with GABA and she told me that "yes" Micah would be unconscious, regardless of Boli shaping the scream like a cone - and also that Mal would be weakened by the scream. If you need logs as proof I will provide them at your request. I say that Krajin did nothing to defend against the scream, because as per Boli's post the scream is coming "as he threw a grenade." and your defense from it would've needed to be in your previous post since they're simultaneous.

Finally, Micah's grenade is having to sail 40 meters, and is described as "so as they'd step out and the woman would turn to fire at the door control panel the grenade would hit the ground directly in front of the two and explode". This means that it doesn't happen until Jemma exits, waits for Prudii, Prudii exits, and Jemma turns to shoot, as that had been the chain of events in our previous posts (though this was interrupted by Mal's scream). Given that timeframe I find it entirely reasonable for Prudii to be able to activate his jetpack and sail away.

I hope this helps clear up any contention points with my post! If there are any questions, however, I would be happy to answer them in the OOC.

 

[Proleptic]

Jemma had fully intended on strolling in without the slightest indication of aggressive intentions when she walked into the building, and was simply planning on getting into a good old-fashioned brawl with some blokes. Unfortunately for all parties involved, someone had some rather different plans, as was made evident by a bloodcurdling scream coming from the floor they were approaching. Jemma mentally debated whether or not it was possible that the sounds was originating from an organic life form or not. She began adjusting the audio frequency modulators to simply dull all input, and the sound was barely a whisper as the doors to the lift opened.

Upon stepping from the lift, Jemma had several thoughts in very quick succession. As was her usual style, these were all spoken as well. The first of them was: "At least buy me dinner first, sheesh," which was closely followed by: "That grenade seems to be moving reaaaaaaaaally slowly," Jemma was very strongly tempted to just watch as the grenade appeared to fall in slow motion, but she resisted the temptation. Jemma's thoughts concluded with a: "Oh, shoot!" at which point Jemma proceeded to hurriedly launch herself away from the elevator. She activated her jetpack, giving a strong burst to push her away from the spot that the grenade headed towards.

As the blast detonated, Jemma pushed Prudii from her mind, knowing that she needn't worry for the Mand'alor. She felt the fringes of the blast lick at her legs, and she knew her grieves would be worthless from there on out, never mind her boot armor. As Jemma flew, she threw down some fire towards her assailant, not needing to worry about the unconscious one on the ground. She giggled to herself, amused at the display of friendly-fire. Her shots were aimed for the screaming woman's chest, hopefully putting a stop to that nonsense by tearing through her unarmored chest and lungs.

 

[Krajin]

Well, most certain instantaneous unconsciousness was not the name of the game for Micah. More a slower suffering pain as the sound waves reflected off walls and the shattering windows behind him that showered the material all over the place in a manner most unpleasant. Micah dropped to his knees holding his head, namely his ears as the noise was extreme to say the least. In the barest few seconds adrenaline surged through his body as instinctual flight or fight reactions kicked in. Knowing in this state he'd not be able to defend himself in this state Micah activated his boots as he stood, launching himself backwards and out the broken window behind him.

It was a brief but explosive jump backwards that would send him sailing out the window and onto the rooftop just outside, a vase somehow joining him on the way out and onto the rooftop that was just outside. Micah would unfortunately slide down said roof, land on another part of the roof a few feet lower find himself passed out on a ledge.

 

[Malmourral [old]]

Evidently, Malmourral had either grossly underestimated her own power, or grossly overestimated the fortitude of the average sentient male in the modern galaxy. As her ally essentially quit the field by jumping out a window despite not having even bore the full front of her attack, the witch scowled, slamming her mouth closed to concentrate as a smattering of blasterfire was all the Mandalorians could muster in response. Quickly spinning several meters to her right to avoid the shots - hastily fired and poorly aimed as they were, and with a good 40 meters between them, ample time for the experienced witch to evade - and noted the positions of the two attackers - both midair, both using their jetpacks, and both still relatively close together.

The arc of lightning that spewed and cracked the air from her finger tips would be brief - only a momentary arc of indigo, crackling across the room to connect the Witch with her enemies, the bolts skittering across skin and flesh and armor plate, wreaking havoc with internal electrical systems and, more importantly, sending the jetpacks (and any other unprotected systems) into complete chaos. With the complicated systems required to keep one airborne and stable in disarray and with the fuel jets still firing, the jetpacks would hold the two Mandalorians hostage as they would be flung around the room in erratic, violent and completely unpredictable patterns, either to come to an abrupt halt at neck-snapping speeds into one of the pillars, floor or rafter of the facility or - possibly worse - flung out the now-smashed windows, and set to plummet to their deaths on the pavement below the palace.