A Colony Rising [ The Mando'ade & Friends ]

[Darth Metus]

O N D E R O N​

They came at Dawn.

As the waking rays of light washed over the planet Onderon, so too did an iron congregation descend from on high. The gathering of vessels was not a martial fleet, but rather an assortment of civilian shuttles, freighters, and few escort capitals. Today, the Mando'ade had come, not for war, but to step lively in a new direction. Their home was in ruins, their Clans were scattered, and their survival demanded acting...different. They had to prioritize putting a roof over their displaced peoples' heads, and thus had the dream of Sol'yaim begin. A dream of a Colony built in peace upon Onderon's fertile soil.

Yet peace was not free, especially not on a world that once clashed with the Mandalorian people. In truth, in order to see their displaced rehomed, the Mando'ade would have to settle ancient grudges with the Onderonians. In times past, annihilation would have been the sole answer - a vicious conquest of the planet would have taken place. But now, their culture was up against the wall...and only time and playing it smart would see them rebuild. Thus had the Mando'ade's numbers split into two groups upon breaching the atmosphere. The First Wave headed towards the capital city of the world: Iziz. Meanwhile, the Second Wave landed upon a river valley several miles away; this would be the birthplace of the Colony.

Now, as the planet began to wake, the Mando'ade took their first steps upon the world. The First Wave disembarks from their shuttles into the heart of Iziz. The Second Wave rolls out their assets - vehicles, equipment, and weapons - and begin to raise the Colony. Where will you stand? What will your story be?

Spoiler: Objectives

The First Wave has made their way to Iziz, capital of Onderon.

Objective I: A Day in Court - Having been liberated of rule by the One Sith, the Iziz nobility is in no hurry to kneel once again. A Mando'ade delegation has been formed to treat with the monarch. Will the truth of our plight be enough to move them? Will we be able to broker peace? Eons' worth of bad blood now hangs in the balance...

Objective II: Acquisitions - A Colony has needs: food, clothes, medical supplies, technology...and Iziz is in no shortage of any. Whilst the delegation attempts to broker a treaty, the remaining Mando'ade within the city have a task of their own. The Colony has needs...will you fulfill them?

Objective III: Exploration - The Walled City of Iziz has opened its doors to you. There are countless avenues before you, feel free to explore them all!

The Second Wave has landed in the Wilds of Onderon.

Objective IV: Raising Walls - Construction of the Colony is underway. Walls are being raised, Defenses are being erected, and vital structures are taking shape. Will you hoist the stones of Sol'yaim? Or will you see vital resources brought online? The choices are yours!

Objective V: Taming the Wilds - The Beast Masters of Onderon are open to peace...if we can prove ourselves. A host of Drexl have claimed the river which flows close to the Colony. By ending...or taming...them, we begin a fruitful relationship with the Beast Masters. Will you raise to the challenge?

Objective VI: Shadow of War - An ancient shrine to the Naddists has been discovered in the Wilds. It has attracted slaves of the Darkness - Sithlings, Raiders, and Monstrosities. This site and its artifacts cannot be allowed to put the Colony at risk. Will you be the cleansing fire?

Objective VII: BYOO - Onderon is as Wild as it is Vast. It is a canvas, waiting for your masterpiece. Are you ready to share your tale?

Spoiler: Tag

[member="Aden Dral"], [member="Agenor Dyre"], [member="Alkor Centaris"], [member="Amaya Verd"], [member="Anika Nygaard"], [member="Ardgal Raxis"], [member="Arioch Cain"], [member="Artemis Lux"], [member="Briika Tor"], [member="Butterfly"], [member="Cabur Aranar"], [member="Corvus Detta"], [member="Darth Doom"], [member="Deneve Verd"], [member="Diana Veneris"], [member="Drof'del Tavor"], [member="Isamu Baelor"], [member="Jagen Wren"], [member="James Solaris"], [member="Kad Tor"], [member="Kalyr Alor"], [member="Kaylanna Detta"], [member="Keira Ticon"], [member="Keric Dynt"], [member="Lok Munin"], [member="Malok"], [member="Mór-rioghain"], @Mesh'all Dral, [member="Nolan Detta"], [member="Scáthach"], [member="Shia LeFett"], [member="Strider Garon"], [member="Suravi Teigra"], [member="Titan Verd"], [member="Tyra Gozen"], [member="Valkyr"], [member="Vilaz Munin"]

 

[Zef Halo]

​

​

AFTERNOON
ONDERON WILDS


A secluded small patch of clearing is where Jorel found it the best place to rest. Camo green space leather jacket in combination with tough jeans material, a standard black shirt and brown military shoes was what he had donned for this job. The military backpack rested next to him as he laid his back resting upon a thick trunk of a tree.

The agent for hire munched upon the rations that he had brought with him before finally setting them back in his backpack and taking his shotgun from the ground. There was still light in the day and he wanted to make the most out of it before he called it a night.

Once again into the wilds he went in search of what his employer had called - a source of knowledge lost to the ages. Jim wasn't going to kid himself, he knew perfectly well what he might face. The former cop had made his research well and could easily conclude that he was seeking ancient Sith knowledge belonging to a forsaken and possibly nonexistent cult. The possibility might be high but it was not a fact. Thus, the shotgun in his arms.

He couldn't help but feel as if something had laid its dreadful gaze upon him the deeper he went into the jungle.

 

[Kad Tor]

TAMING THE WILDS

The wilds of Onderon were overrun with creatures which had been reproducing faster than the population of beast masters could keep at bay. It seemed Manda'lor was no longer content to hide in the shadows of exile, and the people of Manda'yaim were led into the galactic eye once again. Peace with the people of Onderon was something which was desired, and services had been offered in good will. The beast masters were among those who had requested the assistance, and Kad was the first to answer the call. His smile was wide with the prospect of hunting, and wider at the prospect of who would be joining him.

The Lioness of Dxun, [member="Artemis Lux"], carried herself with a strength which had been forged in the fire of pain and sorrow. Kad had come to admire her inner strength as well as the skill she demonstrated on a constant basis. They had found more than a common source of pain, but a common interest as well. Kad and Artemis were hunters, for sport or necessity. Since colonizing Dxun and looking to Onderon the hunt became necessary to put meat on the table for the vode and this would serve to do the same.

When an objective also turned out for the benefit of the clans it was always a good day. As the drop ship hovered above the drop zone, Kad turned to his hunting partner and grinned. "Let us meet with these Beast Masters quickly so we can answer the siren song of the hunt," he said before leaping to the grassy earth below. His boot made a soft thud on contact as the long grass whipped about, tossed by the power of the engines above. Kad stood to his full height as he walked away from the ship knowing the lioness was only a step or two behind.

The chieftain had assembled a small welcoming party for the verda answering the call. Kad was unsure as to the plan, but it seemed population control was in the best course. The Drexel had overrun the wilds to the point that more frequent sightings were being reported in the cities. There was no need for this, and Kad would do what he did best. He was not a politician or ambassador by any means. His words would be direct, blunt, but not intended to wound.

"We are here in answer to your call," he said as he nodded his head. While he was not a peacemaker, Kad did know how to show respect. Today he represented Manda'lor and Manda'yaim even if it were still in ruins. His head returned, held as high as a warriors head was meant to be held. "All we ask is the freedom to handle the overrun as we deem fit. Our hunters are skilled and will not bring harm to the forests. Our warriors are also in need of meat, so we ask that we be allowed to pack as much as we can carry afterward..."

The chieftain nodded, but did not look happy. Kad looked to Artemis for help. Her tongue was said to be as skilled as her sword.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Objective IV​

​

​Location: High Orbit, Onderon​

​Aboard ​Medical Frigate ​"Kotep"​

​

Earlier...​

​

​I can feel them standing there, watching me. They exist as disjointed figures beyond a sea of bright blue.

​"Give me a status report on the patient," a firm, feminine voice demanded. His eyes were open, and she stared straight into them, but she knew he did not see her. Alkor Centaris had all but shut down after the events on Mustafar, and if he could register anything outside his own body, it would have been a miracle. Counteracting the effects of the neurotoxin had been a nightmare, she reflected as she delved into the notes of the on staff team. A saline flush had done nothing to reduce the disastrous damage that the compound had done on his nervous system, and though it served to rid his body of all traces of the Vee Ex, recovery would take more than several months. His world would be fire outside of that Kolto tank, though when they had brought him in, there was no doubt it already was. Anger flared in those eyes, devoid of proper sight, as she glanced into them once more. Asha pursed her lips, then set the file down. "It's a miracle the damage did not require any artificial organs," she commented absently. "His vitals seem normal, albeit riddled with an abnormal heartbeat."

"The subject apparently irradiated him with the phenomena known as the dark side of the Force," one of the attending physicians commented in response. "There is nothing in our records that aligns with these symptoms beyond stress induced hypertension, but we have it on the word of Keira Ticon that his body has been ravaged from the inside. Injuries in line with sonic damage on multiple organs have been exacerbated without explanation, and we have a line in to keep his heartbeat under control. There are moments where he seems lucid, and those are concerning to us."

"What seems to be the issue?" she asked, watching for any sign of motion from the Jen'jidai. Asha thought she saw his arm twitch. Her eyes lingered there for a moment, but if it had been real, it did not happen twice.

"Spurts of increased neural activity," the healer commented, and brought up a live reading of the man's vitals. "For several minutes at a time, he seems plagued by erratic emotions, and his body-"

Thud.

​​​Asha and the physician jumped. Alkor was forehead to glass, eyes in focus as he stared straight at the woman- or was he looking through her? Asha did not see the same cold, empty gaze she attributed to the man she had met nearly a year prior. He was focused, filled with rage, and his gaze sought something far, far away. She took a step forward and touched the glass, gently stroking the outline of his face. For a moment, she thought that she noticed his expression soften. Asha leaned down, knelt, and pressed her forehead to the glass, in line with his own.

​You come to visit daily now, but I cannot see who you are. I have felt you before, many times. Why do you return here? Why do you come back? I can feel your pain.

​"His body is in a state of suspended animation," the doctor told the woman, "so he can't tell that you're there, and he can't hear you if you speak. Don't strain yourself trying to communicate with him, Miss Sasi." He placed a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. "We can notify you the moment we bring him out of it, if you would prefer that."

"Yes," she said, her voice a harsh whisper. "That would be wonderful."

​​As the Dark Jedi slept, the Mando'ade slowly woke from their long rest...​

​

Onderon- Sol'yaim Colony site
​Local time: 1300

Asha stood watch along the battlements as the construction crews began to raise the inner walls. For hours now, machinery imported from the corpse of Manda'yaim labored to till soil and flatten land, and various farmhands and versed Mando'ade rent the soil to lay foundation. Near five miles in all, the colony would be as all Mandalorian cities. Ever growing, filled to the brim with culture, and defensible to a fault. Duracrete poured out across the prepared land and set, and a second layer was added to help support the weighty civilization that would rise atop it. Purposed casts of Mandalorian steel were set and inlaid across the foundation to help sustain the various structures they were going to erect. Like a prefabricated society, the Mandalorians quickly assimilated what had been devoid of life and aimed to make it prosperous.

"The teams we sent out have not yet reported," one helmeted hunter told her. Asha glanced his direction for a moment. "No sign of life nearby to indicate a danger to the building efforts."
​She nodded in response. "Good. Continue on the projected timeline until Mand'alor and the others return. Ideally, we will have something to show them when they return."

"Beskar walls for any would-be intruders to rail against," the hunter joked. Asha did not smile. He coughed lightly. "The smiths are on schedule as well, ma'am," he informed her. "All able bodied men and women with knowledge of working the Iron are measuring out and pouring the casts now. By nightfall, we should have the beginnings of an ironclad fortress."

"We don't have the Iron to fortify the whole city," she reminded him, "and we will need what we can keep on hand to kit out our forces. Make sure the smiths are being as economic as possible with their charge."

​"It is done," he responded almost instantly. "Everyone here knows our circumstances, miss. You don't have to worry about telling them. We're not the Mandos we were a year ago."

Asha nodded. "Ain't that the truth," she muttered beneath her breath as she pulled the buy'ce back over her head. She looked out over the wilds of Onderon. "Hurry back to me, cyar'ika," she spoke in the confines of her helmet. No one else could hear. "Hurry back so you can watch how a family comes together during hard times."

 

[Jagen Wren]

"Listen, vod. I need a reputable supply of food and drink for several dozen Mando'ade, I told you already." Jagen argued, staring down a stubborn old man a few inches shorter than the mandalorian. "I heard you the last ten times, boy. But like I said, you need a ten thousand credit down payment; That'll cover you and your colony for the next month or two." He scowled, annoyed. Jagen huffed and turned his back, he didn't have ten thousand credits. Bounty hunting had been stale and being a mandalorian doesn't exactly pay, even as the Mand'alor's bodyguard.

The mando walked away from the kiosk, his beskar-plated boots hitting the duracrete grounds of Iziz. He was about to search for someone else until a sound indicated that he stepped on something made of paper. The man bent over and grabbed the object, scraping the dust off of it revealing it to be a flyer.

DO YOU GOT WHAT IT TAKES TO WIN A FIGHT?​

DO YA THINK YOU CAN DUKE IT OUT WITH SEVERAL OF THE DEADLIEST WARRIORS ON ONDERON?​

LOOK NO FURTHER! PARTICIPATE IN THE CITY'S BLOODIEST ARENA AND WIN BIG!​

TOURNAMENT PRIZE: 25,000 CREDITS​

LOCATION DETAILS ON BACK​

*IZIZ ARENA IS NOT RESPONSIBLE TO INJURY OR LOSS OF LIFE THAT MAY BEFALL PARTICIPANTS​

​

A smirk formed on the lips of the man as he crumpled up the flyer and stuffed it into his pack, already having memorized the location of this arena fight. Setting his helmet on, his jetpack burst to life as he was launched into the air, soaring to his destination. A fight against the deadliest warriors on Onderon? Eh?

Well he was the deadliest in the sector.

 

[Drof'del Tavor]

Second Wave: Objective IV Raising Walls

Drof'del had been part of the second wave to Onderon. The First Wave had ventured into Iziz to delegate with officials there.

No, Drof'del wouldn't be part of the first wave due to the fact that delegation was not a strong suit of his. Being used to working on the farmstead, Drof has worked out in the weather and his father showed him a thing or two that may come in handy.

In order to have their support--we must win the hearts of the people to make sure this Colony will survive--and thrive.

He was at a small base camp, where the colony would be located. Drof had acquired some materials out in the wilds: various lengths of wood and strands of fiber made by braiding fragments of vines together to make a taught line.

He would go to work by unsheathing his vibroknife and whittling the wood to a point. Once he did this to several pieces he would then cross them in an X fashion, then tie multiples of those together to make a spiked barricade. If any predator were to run at them, this barricade would either puncture their chest or cut off their air supply.

"Thank you buir, this is actually coming in handy" he said to himself. His father taught him how to survive out in the wilds should he be stranded--or hunting. He knew how to make a comfortable, well-defended base camp.

His other vode were at work either making delegations or helping establish the colony. The Mando'ade were establishing themselves at a steady pace--Drof'del was establishing himself at a steady pace as well.

Drof had finished a couple barricades before moving on to the next task--which would be transporting the Sol'yaim so that it could be manipulated and placed into position.

 

[RC 212]

Second Wave

Objective VI: Shadow of War - An ancient shrine to the Naddists has been discovered in the Wilds. It has attracted slaves of the Darkness - Sithlings, Raiders, and Monstrosities. This site and its artifacts cannot be allowed to put the Colony at risk. Will you be the cleansing fire?​

​

---------------------------------------------------------------------------​

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Dar'Manda.

The name still hung in his mind as Jack moved through the thick jungle. He remembered his fight with Ra on the beach, the feel of the spear piercing his flesh as they fought. There was a lot fallout that had come from that, and Jacks family had paid the price.

The jungle was nice. He loved the wild spaces, places where most folk did not come. For a very long time he'd had to hide out, never staying in one place for long. But that was over now, all of it. He had returned, given up his Besk'ad and Aliit'Gam of his old Mandalorian roots. The stripping was symbolic, a steadfast reminder to him.

He'd have to work his way back to be a true Mado'ade.

There was a fine breeze as he walked, crunching the leaves and vines underfoot with his leather spacers boots. On his back was his lever action shotgun. He was clad in his normal white shirt, black vest and red sash. The sash was just about the only Mandalorian symbol he'd kept. It was colored in red and black, Raxis clan colors.

"Do you hear that?" Alleria asked.

She was one of the last folk still with him, a twin from the Ordo clan. Her brother was deceased, killed by Pirates in an all out battle in the Rim. Despite Jack being disgraced, she'd stood by him to the bitter end. They'd even grown fond of each other.

"Yeah,some kind of movement up ahead."

Alleria donned her helmet, dropping into a crouch. Jack moved off to her right side and dropped into a crouch as well. He closed his eyes and sank his fingers deep into the dirt t stabilize himself. Color exploded inside his eye lids as his spirit began to expand, reaching out into the wilds of the Jungle.

Alleria was scanning with her helmet, drawing her blaster.

"You're doing it again aren't you?"

A string of syllables escaped his lips in a low mutter. The force surged through his body and his mind linked with an Owl high above.

Now Soulbound to the Owl Jack could not answer. All he could do as look, listen and influence the beast. As the tree fluttered again in verdant greens the Owl took flight, diving down over the cliff face and into a steep hollow in the jungle floor. He felt through the Owl a growing power, much like a sickness or a curse.

They were getting closer to what they were looking for.

The Naddist Shrine.

 

[Keira Priest]

First Wave - Objective I

It had been a long while since Keira had claimed herself a diplomat, and even longer still since she had subscribed to any politics after what had amounted of the Republic she had once served. Yet for some reason she was back again, once more making the case for peace, this time for a cause she more than wholeheartedly believed in. The vode were in no state to conquer as they once had, instead being required to talk their way through strife as opposed to using bullets. It was a new side of the Mandalorians not many had seen before, but it was this that would ensure the beginnings of their rebirth across the galaxy. They were a broken people, and in need of healing.

"I thought there was a reason you stopped with negotiations."
"One can only make the case for a failing nation so well."
"What does that say about the Mandalorians?"
"That we're different. We know how to rebuild."
"You've come a long way since the days of the Crusaders."
"The Crusaders failed. This will not."

Around and around it always went, though the AI's criticisms had at the very least become more constructive. As much as she didn't want to admit it Thalia made good points, and there was no reason to assume things would be different this time around other than a twinge of intuition that told her so. This time there were no politics, no artificial division among their ranks. Instead there were only a broken people with a desire to become a fraction of what they had once been, though they needed the resources to do it. And so came Onderon, a planet whose people had once been enemies in times long past. It was no mistake that those old wounds still festered, but that was why they were here, why she was here to talk.

"They're not going to take kindly to you wearing armor."
"We're Mandalorians. It's a second skin. Besides, this way you get to babysit."
"It's not my fault you need it."

It was at this point she removed her helmet, though she still wore an earpiece so the AI could interject her commentary, lest she do so through less savvy means. It wasn't that Thalia would do so with the intent of mucking negotiations, but she liked to be heard above all else, and this way only she would have to listen to it. It was at this point she approached the palace, for once in her life unarmed, even the wrist rocket of her armor disengaged. Sure, she could be walking into a trap, but they already weren't in the good graces of the nobility here, and she had a feeling showing up in armor - however culturally applicable - would be seen as a slight. It was best that she do what she could to make a good impression.

Maybe that was why she'd come alone.

 

[Rashae]

Objective IV
Onderon Mandalorian Colony
Padme Medical relief and supply Mission


The Mandalorians didnt have what one would call a medical division. They had medics to patch people up but nothing for preventative or Trauma. Mandalorians by their very nature come back with a lot of Trauma to their bodies. They fought hard, worked hard and played even harder. In hind sight it was actually a bit difficult to determine if they were fighting, working or playing. From the Doctor's point of view, it caused her more work than she thought was necessary. Yet here she was on Onderon to assist.

She landed first as she insisted with an escort with her. Apparently the jungles of Onderon were dangerous or something. The prolific greenery was a curiosity of hers to see what kind of plants were here and maybe the rare orchid. That was what her Commander was afraid of. The leaders of the Mandalorian contingent and the Commander of her convoy had a few discussions regarding the Minister's peculiarities. Apparently she was being escorted, watched and followed every blasted where. This put the Minister in somewhat of a sour mood.

The scent of the virgin green was intoxicating. It had her fingers itching to look at the foliage and venture into the wilds. It wasnt fair that a few mandalorians went into the wilds to hunt and perhaps clear out any predatory neighbors that could cause problems. Rashae could hear the voice of her Commander telling her that she was a Minister and a prized Pii asset and Alderaan asset. She must not take unnecessary risks. Well how the hell was she to get anything done much less discovered. These past three or four months she spent less time in the fraking lab and more time doing diplomatic crap like this. She was early and wanted to get her teams set up and applied orders before she met up with the diplomatic portion of this mission.

Problem was that she was good at it. It was during this observing once over as the initial walls and fortifications went up for the colony that her team was landing. Kicking up the already flattened foliage beneath her boot. Boots were expected. Considering the terraine it was smart, but it wasnt fashionable. The boots lacked shape and design. They were in short awful but they were useful. Red team came up behind her as she acknowledged with a nod.

“Get medical tents up, surgical up. With these guys we will need it. “ The raven haired woman said.

The other teams landed and Rashae ordered what was needed. They divided and conquered clinic, surgical, preventative medicine, disease control and more importantly, medical supplies. She brought nutrition puddings and Gentec state of the art wound kits with her. The doctor ordered classes in hygene, teach them how to use the kits and general cautions in unknown biological surroundings. Rashae called the nutrition goop, puddings, as that was the consistency of the nutrient dense stuff. It was in a thick goo type substance that supplied the nutritional needs with an on the go type application. Mercs, long distance workers, salvage workers loved this stuff.

Rashae Lovous stood on the outskirts of the busy work once they were in motion updating a datapad of their progress as more ships, supplies and construction of basic colony structures were going up.


&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Objective I
Diplomatic Mission to Onderon capital Iziz

Dressed in formal Alderaan Atire of the Minister of Medicine, Doctor Rashae Lovous exits one of her Medical Corvettes to join the Mandalorian contingent to smooth things over with the Iziz royalty. She has dealt with the Alderaan royalty for a while now and was going over what was known about Iziz, its past and what hurdles that she might encounter. The big one, Mandalorian invasions in the past was probably at the top of their discontent list. Not that she blamed them.

The raven haired beauty looked quite smart and formal in all white medical uniform with the appropriate emblems and insignia that represents who she was. She wanted to meet with whom ever was the Mandalorian diplomat to at least get some kind of plan. The fact that Mandalorians were not known to be diplomatic or be very social was worrisome. Not that she held that against them, hell normally the doctor herself wasn't social. This was about the livelihood and survival of a people. The people didn't need to suffer for military actions.

 

[Strider Garon]

Objective: I
Diplomatic Mission to Onderon capital Iziz

The old man was clad in his battle scarred beskar'gam. His helmet was tucked under his left armpit while his jet black hair flicked in the wind. His lips were tightly secured around the business end of a shento cigar, letting the smoke roll around in his mouth and smother his palates with the bitter taste that he so much enjoyed. As heavily armored as he was in trandition sense of the warrior code, his offensive power was lacking. He only had his blaster pistol hosltered off his right thigh for personal protection. He wasn't here on a campaign of occupation, this was a diplomatic mission after all.

Strider's old eyes would catch the sight of the raven haired beauty, disembarking from her transport. Now, she looked a like a woman dressed for success and his hold eyes didn't miss an inch of her with his full body visual examination. The woman was ice, this he knows from past experience with her. Kind of a enigma to the hound of keldabe, as much as he was use to being brushed off by scores of woman for multiple reasons, this woman....... she was just cold. The old man found that to be a challenge, though this could be a one sides game, he wasn't want to give so easily.

The mandalorian would approach her, exhaling the smoke that was trapped in his mouth. "Dr Lovous, you look stunning!" The wounded gravely deep resonating voice of Strider would reach out to @Rashae. "They must of wanted someone of the dignified and respectable type to be on this mission"

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Objective 5--Taming the Wild.

Running data scan. Subject: Species Drexl. 5%....15....55....99. Complete. Advisement: Kill on Sight. Highly dangerous. Avoid teeth, flight and size makes them highly lethal, not to be confronted. Avoid. Non vulnerable to the Force. Considered a super predator.......

As [member="Kad Tor"] spoke, Ardgal was running intel on these beasts. Helmet clipped on his belt, the warrior's dark eyes stared ahead unseeingly as he focused on the info streaming into him. It was odd having cybernetic components. Ones that were well integrated were almost a part of him. If it wasn't for the headaches he could almost forget they were even there.

He wasn't one skilled with words. His mind was full of tactics, strategies, and a vong biot that hated the cyborg bits not too far from it. So he waited patiently, shifting the disruptor rifle in his hands ever so slightly. One of the shy local children hiding behind its mother saw him, their dark eyes studying him with a combination of fear and curiosity. The warrior gave a slight smile and barely inclined his head towards the youngling. The small boy shyly took a hand from his mouth, waving clumsily. Ardgal felt a sense of amusement and paternal--he didn't know what to call it. Perhaps there was still something human left in him after all.

[member="Artemis Lux"]

 

[Andy Khor]

In other times he would arrive with nothing, but he was sitting in the hangar bay of one of the many supplies ship of the OSL, escorted by Enryu Corps mercenaries. [member="Acaleus Thorn"] gave him free pass to use that company resources, so he would at least use them while he can...in a better way, and that would be helping the place where the colony would be place. A tremble and a minute later, he was walking out with his hand in his pocket. He`ve never been poor...or at least that poor, so helping someone in need was still kind of strange for him.

The workers would be dealing with crates or heavy vehicles, travelling with other supplies. The company had bought the necessary (water and food for at least fifty thousand people, mattress and newly bought clothes, and the tools needed for farming, cattle raising and construction) and the means necessary for transporting it "That sentence sounds easy if i tell someone. But Acaleus probably will have to put his company in a mortage or sell stocks or something. The freakings dealers got rid of at least seven digits of credits selling their products" thought, as the travel was almost the most sleep he could have. Watching that everything was well packed in the hangars and other boring things that he would describe like "blablabla"

"Hex. I need you to scan the whole area and send the data to my helmet. Meet me in the construction site after that. I`ll be talking with some natives about my arrival" the droid obey, floating over the area. The DJ walked with his hands in his pocket until he sighted someone in armor helping out, so he would do the best thing he was bad at "Hey there. Name is Andy Khor from the Order of the Sacred Lotus. Need an extra hand?"

[member='Drof'del Tavor']

 

[Kaylanna Detta]

Objective: I
Diplomatic Mission to Onderon capital Iziz
[member="Strider Garon"] | [member="Rashae"]

Kaylanna followed her grandfather and when he began to flirt with the dark haired woman, she kicked him hard. All while smiling.

She heard about what kind of man her grandfather was.

She hoped that her brother [member="Corvus Detta"] would be along shortly but he may have taken a different ship, for a different mission. She...was still trying to make sure this man who said he was her grandfather, really was her grandfather. The way he flirted with this woman that was one indication that he was the Hound of Keldabe.

 

[Artemis Lux]

O B J E C T I V E V​

T A M I N G T H E W I L D S​

Not all of the Mando’ade’s diplomatic enterprises would unravel inside the sleek, polished halls of Iziz. While some of the vod had traveled to the great capitol to negotiate with the aristocracy, others remained in the wilds to broker a different kind of treaty—but a treaty of equal importance. Artemis Lux was one such ambassador tasked with forging an alliance between the Mando’ade and the Beast Masters of Onderon. The Beast Masters reigned over the jungle with as much might as the nobility reigned over Iziz; building an alliance with both was utterly critical for the Mando’ade’s survival.

Artemis, diplomat by profession and huntress for sport, was up to the task.

Before Mandalore crumbled, she had built a career steeped in the heart of Mandalorian diplomacy. Her experiences as a politician might have served the Mando’ade well in Iziz, but it was her love of the hunt that made her particularly well-suited to connect with the Beast Masters. They were a fearsome band of survivalists who respected the politics of nature more than the politics of men. It would take more than pretty words and a clever tongue to sway their loyalty, though Artemis was in no short supply of both. No, it would take bravery, strength, and a demonstrated prowess for the natural world to win over the Beast Masters.

With [member="Kad Tor"] and [member="Ardgal Raxis"] at her side, Artemis—the woman they called the Lioness—had no qualms that the alliance would be theirs by sundown.

“Patience is a virtue,” Artemis murmured to Kad as her boots melted into the lush grass, a glimmer of subdued amusement pulling at the dimple in her cheek when their gazes met. Artemis was the more fiercely pragmatic of the two, but it was Kad’s boyish enthusiasm that made hunting together enjoyable—his passion was infectious. With an almost feline ease, she fell into line at his side as they walked together to meet Ardgal. “We can only hunt here if we gain the Beast Masters’ trust. They are as territorial over these lands as the beasts they claim as companions.” Artemis paused, flickering her sharp green eyes up to Kad. “This is their home,” She emphasized, but beneath her serious demeanor, he would be able to detect a smile that she reserved only for him.

“Ardgal,” The woman greeted as they approached, turning from Kad to beam at their comrade. “I’m glad you will be joining us. Thank you for running the data—your knowledge of the creatures here might be all that saves our skins.” She glanced back to Kad pointedly. “—better to know what’s out there than to be hit with any surprises.” He would catch her reference; the two had been very nearly outsmarted by a Zakkeg on a recent hunt, the consequences of which were still scraped and dented into the breastplate of her gilded beskar’gam.

Without further word or delay, however, the Lioness led the two men to the assemblage on the hill. The formidable council of Beast Masters stood together, tall and proud, but none more imposing than the Chieftain. He was older, with a silver-streaked mane and a shaggy beard, but there was still strength in his body, and unquenched ferocity in his eyes. He looked to Kad with suspicion, who in turn looked to Artemis for help.

“Councilmen,” said Artemis, stepping forward, the cultured accent of her voice hitting the jungle air like a bell. “The Mando’ade understand that Onderon is your home, and that it will be your home long after we are gone. My people do not have a home—it was destroyed. That is why we are here.” She paused, surveying the mighty council’s faces for any flicker of changed emotion. Something in the Chieftain’s eyes had softened, if only fractionally. “It is not our intention to lay waste to your land, but rather to contribute to its value,” She continued. “Under your guidance, we will hunt according to your codes, killing only what we need to survive. We will prove ourselves worthy to share your bounty, however you deem fit.”

There was silence while the Councilmen conferred. After a long moment, the Chieftain turned his stony face back to the Mandalorians.

“Very well, off-worlder,” He said, his voice deep and clear. “Take your men to the river just north of your encampment. There you will find a host of Drexl that has been plaguing our livestock—kill or tame them, and you may share our hunting grounds. Fail . . . and your people will starve.” The Chieftan nodded. “Go!” He urged, before the Beast Masters turned as one and disappeared into the jungle beyond.

[member="Kad Tor"] | [member="Ardgal Raxis"] | [member="Nolan Detta"]​

 

[Kad Tor]

OBJECTIVE V
TAMING THE WILDS

Patience, something Kad needed to work on. He'd lost friends and even a potential mate over his lack of patience. A deep breath was drawn in through his mouth and slowly escaped his nostrils as the Mando'ad attempted to practice patience. Others had tried telling him, but Artemis could speak to him in away others could not. He had given her the unspoken permission to scold him, correct him, and otherwise he blunt about his faults. It was a right reserved for family and regardless of what they were, or would be, the bond forged on Dxun gave her the rights of family. In truth, Kad allowed her more than what even the closest of family were allowed. Right or not, she was allowed to speak to him the way Ralize once had.

"I am aware... but I've been itching to hunt with you again since the Zakkeg. Though some of my behavior I shall refrain from repeating."

Her eyes flicked over to his, and the smile which she left for him did not go unnoticed. It was returned in mind before his eyes returned forward.

They met another of their own in the wilds. His assessment was on point, and as Artemis mentioned they didn't need surprises Kad felt a smile stretch across his face. There was no need to add to what she said, so Kad simply greeted their fellow warrior with a nod. "Ardgal." They did not need the surprise of nearly being eaten. Kad's eyes moved to the dent still visible on gold plated chest plate of Artemis' armor. She had taken quite the hit and survived. Ardgal's eyes would be important for them.

After Kad's attempt to gain permission to hunt, Artemis stepped in. She was the diplomat after all, and Kad was the beskar'smith. Her profession was words, and his was one of the hands. His hands were as rough as her tongue was smooth. Within a few moments they had been given a window. Solve the problem with the Drexel's or their people starve. Kad did not like the ultimatum. His hot head would be uncontrolled if he was still drinking, but it had been insisted he be sober for this. Kad had learned his drunk self could get into trouble he did not intend to cause.

Kad turned on his heels and headed back toward the encampment. There was a sour expression on his face, and under his breath he began to murmur. Between the chieftain and the fact others would be joining for the hunt. Kad had been looking forward to another hunt with Artemis, but this was more important than the boyish desire to hunt alone with the woman. For their people to eat, Kad and the rest of the crew had a job to do.

"We need a sharpshooter," Kad said as they neared the encampment. "[member="Nolan Detta"] will help keep cover. We must hunt their way which means my explosives will do us no good. Beskad's and rifles only. I have a feeling we will not be taming many of the winged beasts."

The river forked just north of the encampment and was hidden under the cover of trees. A rush of the river's current fell on their ears. It was fast as the mighty spring rains had filled the river to the brim. Kad had instructed the crew to put on their helmets before any surprise. A smile was the last thing on his face as he looked at Artemis once more. Her green eyes would be the death of him he was certain. Over the comm Kad reached out to Ardgal. ["How many are we going to be dealing with?"]

[member="Artemis Lux"] | [member="Ardgal Raxis"]​

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Ardgal hated what had been done to him at Darkpoint. He had signed up to help save people not be shred to bits and be put back together in a living hell. He couldn't look in the mirror and recognize the dead eyes that stared back at him. Dead eyes. Eyes that had before carried a sense of nobility with inspiration and above all charm. Insane? Oh without a doubt--only the insane believe they are a god, but not without humanity and care. He hated what he was now, how socially inept, how totally unhuman he felt.

But even with all of that, it felt good to be of service. He was a monster, nothing would change the fact that he was still Project 13 of a war project. But just for once, for a fleeting moment it felt like he was a monster for something. That his sacrifices of humanity mattered. His far staring eyes blinked back to the moment from his endless datafeeds. He smiled back at both [member="Kad Tor"] and [member="Artemis Lux"] tightly but genuinely, "Thank you. Glad to help."

And then the negotiations were over and it was time for him to get to the reason they came her. Killing. He hear the male leader's orders and shifted his disruptor rifle from his back to his hands. Good. This was what he was best at, "Yes, sir, got you covered."

He followed Kad through the thick of it to the riverside.

Initializing scanning software .... booting heuristic channels ..... Prepared for scan.

Ardgal knelt by the muddy banks, stopping carefully on the green turf. His eyes, the one organic and one mechanical swept the mucky ground. The data was swept into his computer and living bits, both sweeping it over. The faint tracks of these monsters was cross analyzed for time, weeding out all possible alternatives, and those tracks which were too old to give any real help. The results:

DATA: 10 adults. Certainty: 78%

"I would say we are looking at at least 10 full grown, sir," the cyborg said rising to his feet and dusting the dirt off his head. "Add in young and we could be going against 25, maybe more. Does our sharp shooter have any eyes for leads?"

[member="Nolan Detta"]

 

[Zef Halo]

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LATE AFTERNOON
ONDERON WILDS

The journey was uneventful for quite a while with the only movement and signs of life being the fauna that inhabited the Wilds. It was the sudden appearance of faint thudding sound in the distance that made him freeze, look around and tighten his grasp on his shotgun. A chill ran through his spine as the agent tried to make out what was it. Did someone live here ? Should he be more aware about booby traps ?

He doubted it.

Jorel was more keen to believe that he was closer to his destination. The dreadful thought that his destination was not abandoned and that the cult still existed clouded his mind with every next step he took. Slowing down his walk as the sound became clearer the closer he got, Imos had already the assumption that the sound was that of drums being struck in an outlandish rhythm.

The agent cocked his rifle and strengthened his resolve.

What he would see beyond the thicket would stiffen him in one place.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Jorel Imos"]

Second Wave

Objective VI: Shadow of War ​

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The Owl soared even farther down into the hollow, until Jack could see into it. The depression on the jungle floor was shrouded with vines and tall leafy trees. In the pit there were several track marks, as if folks had walked among the sand recently. The owl fluttered its wings and drooped, perching on a nearby tree. Jack simply observed through its eyes, allowing it to move its head as it wished.

Alleria hated when he used the force. She considered it to be unnatural. Without armor, and his Besk'ad it was a necessary evil. To return.

"I can see the entrance of the Shrines." Jack remarked, almost to nobody.

Alleria grunted, keeping her helmet scanning.

"Someone is coming."

Jack ignored her, still crouched with his fingers dug into the dirt. The owl cocked it's head this way and that, revealing three doors cut into the sides of the hollow. This as new, and Jack willed it look longer. Sweat began to build on his skin and he felt a dull throb pulsing in his temples. the soulbond was breaking, he was losing his control.

There was a renewed effort as he willed the Owl to look one last time, and took in the scene. In a final act the creature flew off and Jack grunted now, releasing his hold on the beast. His eyes flickered open and he fell onto his buttocks, extending both legs. He looked dazed, as if he'd been hit over the head. Alleria handed him a water Canteen.

The spacer drank deep and passed it back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"There's a hollow up ahead, down a sheer cliff face. Looks like our Cultist friends. I can feel their energy gathering."

It reminded him of the Free Colonies, when he'd been a darker version of himself. The darkness felt good and welcoming. The urge to kill, the freedom to use the force as a tool of unlimited power was tempting. But Jack resisted, keeping himself centered with a rhythmic breathing exercise.

"What's your move?" Alleria asked.

He stood up now, drawing his shotgun from it's leather sheath and locking a shell into the breach with a pump of the lever.

"Let's wait and see who's coming by. Lay an ambush. If they're friendly, we'll relay the info on the scout. If not....well you get the picture."

Alleria peeled left, Jack right and they both ducked under tall trees, breaking branches and covering themselves with a mixture of mud, leaves and rocks to blend in.

 

[Vilaz Munin]

First Wave: Objective One

Diplomacy was a field that Vilaz always tried to avoid and was successful at it. He feared that diplomacy were the roots and seeds for the Mandalorians to lose touch of who they were and bring them to an avenue that would transform something similar to the dreaded and despised sect of the New Mandalorians. Of course Vilaz had done talks and meetings, but they were associated when making a contract with an employer as their personal bounty hunter or as a mercenary. Never, however, had he sat down and do peace talks that involved with compromises and and signing a treaty with his signature.

But as Mand'alor that was one of the duties for anyone that carried said mantle. Not only that, but he and his generation of warriors were nothing alike to their ancestors that only crusade and fought, and never had a mutual pact with any other culture without firing a shot or spilling blood. While there was nothing wrong with crusading for Vilaz, he and his followers were in no position to do that. They needed to survive in order to become what they once were and survivability meant adapting.

And this was adapting for the Munin.

"Tell me this diplomacy isn't as bad as I imagine it, Keira," the Mand'alor said to the Ticon as the two were approaching the palace with their armor, yet completely unarmed. First time in his life he had ever gone to a place without a knife.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

First Wave - Objective I

"Am I supposed to lie to my Mand'alor now?" With a half-smile true to her Corellian nature Keira glanced over to Vilaz, shrugging one shoulder. "It depends on who you're talking with. It was hell with our people when I still affiliated myself with the Republic, and equally as terrible when the Republic came looking for peace on Echoy'la. But something tells me these nobles have more sense." Or at least, she liked to think so. Politics had never been her strong suit, but she had talked herself out of war and conflict twice before, so a third time couldn't be that difficult, especially given those they were holding council with were likely far more reasonable and amiable to conversation in the first place.

"Isn't he the one you said shot you before?" As always Thalia was more than happy to provide secondary commentary in her ear, but she ignored the remark. They would talk later.

"So long as we make it clear our intentions are peaceful things should go smoothly." Hopefully the rest of them had come sparsely armed as well and knew how to speak for themselves. Eloquence wasn't highly prized among their people, but unfortunately those of a monarchy tended to hold different ideals to higher standards, those ideals oftentimes the opposite of what a warrior culture idolized. "If all else fails, let me do the talking," As much as she hated the responsibility, it was something she was good at, "If I can make a case for the Republic, I can make a case for anybody."

[member="Vilaz Munin"], [member="Strider Garon"], [member="Kaylanna Detta"], [member="Rashae"]