A whirlwind of shining beskar materialized from the shimmering heat of Mustafar's sulfuric haze. A Mandalorian Skirmisher, she was a scout and vanguard fighter sent to gather intel and disrupt enemy lines.
Her customized WESTAR-35 jetpack whirred impatiently, eager to unleash the chaos she thrived in. With a flick of her wrist, a whistling bird rocket shot towards the nearest Imperial walker, the explosion sending it toppling.
The other stormtroopers, momentarily stunned, fell victim to Arbus' precise blaster fire, her customized Mandalorian repeater spitting bolts with deadly accuracy.
She was a storm of dust and smoke, a one woman flanking maneuver, sowing discord and disrupting their formations before disappearing into the miasma as quickly as she arrived.
The Mandalorian Skirmisher smiled beneath her helmet and calculated her next attack vector.