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A melting pot of devotees had come together in the wake of one of the Galaxies most punishing blows to the entire scope of life itself. These soldiers, the followers of deities unproven had favored zeal over honor, marshaling their forces in the face of a coming war. They had tested the Mandalorians for their response and advantage, on the outskirts of a station in order to gauge the reaction of the Mando'ade. This new faction, no more in it's infancy than half of the governmental bodies around the stars was pressing their luck, and biding their time to strike in their own managed fury. Despite all their holy relics, and pious worship of their enigmatic gods - they had forgotten one key aspect. They were not coming to embark on a war with soldiers, a battle among men and steel. They had come in earnest, staring straight down the barrel of a Legacy. And this would be another tale in the long line that chronicle that of the Mandalorian Legends.
Location: Kad'ika Light Cruiser
Objective: Hold the Fort
Allies: Mando'ade
Enemies: Everyone else
The rotating beacons of danger swept across the expanse of the militant fortress sunk deep in the heart of jungle topography. The roaring klaxon of alarms echoed in stereo beckoning the attention of every able bodied vode to the call that supported the stronghold - motivating them with the heat of battle into positions. Orders barked out in various sections by those overseeing the operation as Wayland became the target approach for a mass of soldiers attempting to breach their border. There was a line drawn, a very definite and visible one that radiated a dual energy shield to keep any intruders at bay - be it man or beast. Fort Monroe, named after their Lady Liberator - a woman who after much involvement in the Mando'ade had subsequently left the ranks, and defected as it were. Azrael had no issue with the homage to the warrior she was during her tenure as Mand'alor, but found it a dark reminder that a few of his closest vode had decided that the Mandalorians were no longer their own family. Having never known his own, to becoming one of the vode - having his brothers and sisters vacate was a hard and wearing blow, to which he didn't want to consider the consequences should they ever cross them on the battlefield.
A fleet of ships pocket jumping from the confines of Mandalorian territory were expected with the range sensors in place to construct a rather accurate log of interstellar travel within their borders. Against their actual perimeter it was much harder to deduce, but after passing through several hundred kilometers of way stations and sensor graphs - the ability to indefinitely cloak their actions was inadmissible at best. Prep work was already being done within the Fort itself, and while Azrael stood aboard the patrol ship, and faced the incoming invasion force from the other side of the planet - he had to wonder just how brazen these Primeval were. The failed communication between himself and whatever was leading this brigade a few months prior was unsettling, but he wasn't looking for any face to face time now. This was a direct and clear act of war. There could be no mistake in this assumption, and the fact that they had come in force instead of just a few capital ships was only further proving his point. The fort was likely their main focus, a double edged victory on Wayland in the setup of such a defense intensive spit of land. While it was formidable it also posed itself as a target - and yet that was an acceptable disadvantage in the young salvager's eyes.
Surrounded in a perfect circle, and shielded from both bombardment and assault, the fortress itself was linked to the command station aboard the vessel floating in deep orbit. The terrain was a hot and humid mess, the jungle home to thousands of species, and very few of them had any fear of man nor beast. They were lethal killers themselves, warding away quite a lot of intruders in this area. The fortifications they had were also in a way keeping those animals at bay, as the clearing that the fort sat within was bordered on all sides by the long line of trees in which these animals roamed. To even get to the fort on foot would be a treacherous hike - and for those unfamiliar with the planet itself, that was an even greater risk. The defense position was strong, and could withstand siege on a nigh indefinite scale - but siege was one of the worst options in the Galaxy for attempting to take over a structure or a planet. Especially against a warring culture like the Mandalorians. Even however should the breach of the shield fold, they were still more than well prepared with a litany of surprises waiting in the wings for those unfortunate enough to make the trek to the actual homestead and attempt anything of an ambush. With his eyes on the sky, and attention split between two holo-screens, Azrael touched the commlink, and broadcast on the secure channel to the Mando'ade in full.
Oloram vode - oloram at akaan. These aruetiise march against us to take away our land. They do not realize they merely march to the graves we will provide them. Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur. They are not our prisoners, they are not worthy of the life they steal with every gasp of breath they take. They pray to their gods for their strength. Teach them ner'vode, that instead they should pray to us for mercy. As empty and vain as that prayer may be, it will come on bloodied lips." Azrael took a breath and gave a wry smile as he donned the buy'ce and clicked it into place forming the seal. "The Primeval will beg for their lives, and we answer back -- no."
