Rebellion Amongst the Ashes | The Rebellion of the Mandalore Hex [ DWC vs MU ]

[Ra Vizsla]

​

// Faction: Mandalorian Union
// GARRISON //: Mando'ade Exiles | 403rd Battalion

// ALLIES: None
// ENEMIES | TSE | Graug | Death Watch | Pollution | Planet
// TAGS | Trajan Fett Darth Carnifex Ijaat Mereel Adenn Kyramud Jaster Awaud

---

I fight the world, I fight you
I fight myself. I fight God.
Just in case my faith goes,
I'll live by my own law.




Trajan Kurze.


The only Mando'ade Ra even remembered from his time serving with the Sons of Mandalore, the whelpling band of rebels propped up by the New Imperials. In a sea of puppets, Trajan had seemed the only other free spirited Mando'ade that the veteran Vizsla could remember. Funny that now, his surname was screamed by this man with such angst - perhaps Ra had, simply by wearing another flag on Manda'yaim, invited further provocation from his own brethren within the ranks of the Crusade. Still, their advantaged position no longer held is hidden advantage, and had been obviously scoured by Death Watch.

An explosion rocked to the west. Only a few city blocks, perhaps half a dozen.

Sundari Palace?

Another example of a symbol that had to be rebuilt a dozen times in only the last few years by the Mandalorian people. It sounded like an explosion. Ra had to make his way there, regardless of what Death Watch's purpose was in stopping him. Whether by the Union's direction, the Crusade's, or some other force at play that the naive Ra was unaware of - there were more forces vying for control of the city than the ranking Vizsla had been originally ready for. Ra's emerald vizor moved slowly from side to side, taking in full view that of the barreling Death Watch Trajan and that of the billowing smoke and sounds of destruction raining emergent from Sundari's oldest and most ancient symbol of authority.

​

Usually, the brutish Ra held on to one of his more powerful weapons until absolutely necessary, but it seemed this Trajan fellow was looking for a fight.

A fight that would be given. "Ne'tra cat'ra," he whispered.

Screams answered.

Roche. Such a long time ago. A hundred, perhaps two hundred, civilians and Mandalorians vented out of an airlock. A mother grasping her children. A father, holding his son's hands, shielding his eyes from the eventuality that the cold vacuum of space would soon void the oxygen out of their lungs, disarming them of their last abilities to scream in the face of death. Each of them, as if stabbed in the back, as if an orifice had been punctured through their chest, gave one last gasp as the last of the air was voided from their lungs. There were no screams. It was a quick, sudden, painless silence as hundreds of people heaved and were suddenly no more.

Such was not the way with Ne'tra Cat'ra, the Black Sky Basilisk of Ra Vizsla. When she approached Trajan Kurze and his men, she screamed those screams of the victims of Roche. Programmed with the metallic sound of a thousand Mandalorian voices, screaming in the face of death, roaring through the air as the black dragon's jets pummeled against the Sundarian rooftops as it barreled forth, blocking Trajan's trajectory to Ra.

"403rd, proceed to the Palace. Support the Union's claim and await my arrival."

Ra's jetpack began whirling.

"I will be there shortly."

The 403rd would proceed towards the Palace to investigate the disruptions as Ra took off into the sky, heading towards his basilisk and to intercept Trajan.

 

[Korso Rook]

SKULL SQUADRON
MANDALORE
​

Laser cannon bolts tore soil and Graug alike apart. Skull Leader and his squadron mates moved in to punish this new foe for their audacity. To expose one's own flank in battle was an insult among the mandalorian people. Heavy repeater fire erupted across their flight vector. Each Fang disengaged taking evasive action. Each Fang but one. Corso flew through the storm with a snarl. Sparks reflected off his visor illuminating master alarms. Still he traded fire with the graug landing party.

Only when his deflector screens flickered out did the Death Watch ace pull up out of his combat dive. Like a bird of prey Outlander ascended into Mandalore's upper atmosphere and away from the reach of Darth Vulcanus . He ignored the warning pings building a slow crescendo until successful shield cycle as stormy skies gave way to hardspace.

"New contacts!" Rook banked into an accelerating turn, "Skull Squadron, break and ascend. Rally to me."

One by one each mandalorian starfighter emerged from the clouds below and into formation. Maintaining perfect alignment with the Fleetmaster's corvettes and encroaching TIEs, Skull Leader revved his sublight engine in a well known signal. Concordia Faceoff, also known as the strategy of least respect. It was little more than a brute force charge, employing the Fang's slim profile to evade just enough damage while slaughtering one's enemy. Corso could still hear the chiming of deflector recharge.

"Now this is the Way."

Corso grinned and kicked the Fang up to max velocity. With a scattering of hollers and roars over their battlenet the rest of Skull Squadron followed his lead. Each of them marked their targets. He adjusted his starfighter's alignment until he was on a collision course with Seela Leini . It took both strength and will to keep the throttle from jostling him off course as he rushed in at the Sith interceptor.

 

[Adi'ka Awaud]

In spite of the regulated gravity of her ship the petite Adi'ka Awaud was pressed hard into her seat as her Krayt gunship was catapulted by the railgun like starting mechanism of the carrier hangar into space.
The small lagomorph gritted her teeth under the immense pressure.

Then the gunboat was on course. Left and right her squadron was falling into high-speed positions

"Jai'galaar solus to squadron! Follow my lead into the atmosphere! We are going in hot! Expect heavy resistance. Stay by me and Jai'galaar t'ad and ehn.
The beskar alloy of our hull should intercept much of their fire. It will be like no other fight you ever fought. The atmosphere will be hell! Remember that, vode!"

Adi'ka tried not to tremble. The hellish war that was fought on Madalore remembered her all too well of the atrocities of an orbital bombardment she had lived through not long ago. She had to keep calm. Not an easy task for a skittish bunny alien, always nervous in the first place!

The young Lepi was only a mercenary and bounty hunter. She feeled not ready for the hell of full scale war. And yet: her adoptive father Jurr had made her squadron leader of the other young guns of the clan. "You know how to stay alive, Adi'ka, when the going gets tough. Teach it to the others!", he had said and patted on her small shoulders. She would not betray his trust!

Adik'ka inhaled a deep breath of the recycled air of her helmet. She was not even born Awaud, only an adopted former juvenile criminal. But her brethren were her brethren and she would do her best to keep them alive.

"I need the bombers to clear the perimeter of the evacuation zone. Use strategic Fusion and Baradium bombs to sterilize the area at a wide radius. I do not want the evacuation zones overrun. Longe range surveillance make clear there are no friendlies in the bomb drop zones! Gunboats, secure the evacuation of friendlies! Fighters, keep missiles and interceptors away, but stay close! Do not let them lure you into dogfights, but lure them in the fire arc of my gunboats!"

As the assaulting squadron rode flaming into the atmosphere toward the hellish war zone of the once proud planet, Adi'ka became strangely calm.
She had helped to escort supply transports on this route a hundred times not long ago. Now was not different but for the hostiles.
Her father had chosen well.

"Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur", she said with a grim calm mirroring Jurr Awauds as the first bombs dropped and the first barrages of laser fire of her boys and girls howled toward the enemy to create a safe zone for the evacuation - Today is a good day for someone else to die.

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

The Black Flame sneered as he watched the streets of Sundari rip asunder, opening great maws in the earth that spewed forth Graug painted in Zambrano's sigils...but there was something more.

The smell of rot followed them like shadow, their scales and hide raw and bleeding. Bubbles of bile pulsated like living things across their body and it seemed as if they had begun bleeding from every orifice. Dead, that much was clear. Likely risen by a spell cast by Zambrano's hounds...but those boils. Vulcanus had seen such a curse of the flesh when disease spread through slave populations.

Graug, however, had no such history.

Before he could ponder the mystery further his attention was drawn by the sound of explosions and the pained squeals of dying Graug. The Great Khaan spun, eyes tearing apart the landscape until finding a lone Mandalorian standing centered in a ring of fire.

"Darth Vulcanus" the lesser-thing bellowed in a synthetic voice as the Graug Horde closed in around him, their claws testing the flames, "do not waste your time on unblooded pups. Come and meet your justice."

The Black Flame said nothing. Not at first. Instead he glared at the flame-veiled form of the armored warrior, claws still dug into the barrel of the E-web and his own hellish gaze cutting through the fire.

"Let me kill this insolent thing for you, Great Burned One" a deep, gravely voice said as it pulled itself from the trench beside Vulcanus. Thrak was one of many warlords beneath The Great Khaan, his eyes always lurking for a meal and his skin always torn from battle.

"No" Vulcanus commanded, "take the horde into the Zambrano hollows. Kill his dark Legion heretics and bring the forgers to me."

The beastial Sith narrowed his eyes upon the challenger, "this one has come to challenge my strength. He will die at my hand"

Thrak grunted, but bowed his head in respect before lifting his warhammer high. With a warcry that echoed even over the sounds of battle Thrak rallied the ocean of claws to him and led the charge into Sundari.

"Brave to challenge me, lesser" Vulcanus called over the thundering of Graug boots as they leave their God and his challenger behind, "but foolish."

Without a word more to be spoken, Vulcanus heaved the E-web into the air. With the ease of launching a grav ball, the Black Flame catapulted the heavy blaster at lethal velocity. The tripod clattered to the dust and the battery was ripped free as the bulk of the weapon spun towards the Mandalorian.

A mere distraction. The Mandalorian had unwittingly opened himself to attack the moment he centered himself in flames.

As the weapon barreled toward the warrior Vulcanus clenched his claws and called upon the flames encircling Siv. The Sith's energy poured into the fire, the heat skyrocketing in seconds. The once orange flames roaring to life with a blue glow and a dark energy that poured forth alongside the heat.

Then, with a cage already perfectly set, the master pyromancer willed the flames to swallow the warrior whole.

 

[Aloy Vizsla]

​

Location: Fortress imperious
Interacting: Stardust Solus Skirae | Rynn Vizsla | Kranak Vizsla | Tahlah Vizsla
Vehicles: Sabre-1 | Modified swoop bike |
Equipment: (x2)Firefly particle pistol(s) | Contained energy blade | (X3)Pyro grenades | Custom Beskar'gam armor | (w\gauntlet weaponry)
Other: Prosthetic leg | Cybernetics | Chainbreaker | Force resistant handcuffs | Jetpack |
Forces: (x400) Deathtroopers of Krieg |

<"If you insist, Stardust. I'll have to come with an annoying name for you like me and Tan do with everyone else"> Aloy chuckled happily at Stardust. Or perhaps the irony of it all. She could see it now; That first day when she delivered the message on behalf of Darsch Vizsla , Her friend... Love even, Once upon a time.
The moment she uttered the name "Vizsla", The barrel of Stardust's blaster obscured her view of the future mand'alor.

And now here she was, Greeting Stardust like she were family. Which, In a way, She was. Even now her pocket bulged where a ring lay, Destined for her sister's finger the moment she returned home.
How far these three had come.

It was a pleasant change, These little talks. And speaking of talks, Rynn Vizsla had certainly spoken his mind on the situation at hand, Sounding almost like the bright eyed young commander she had been when she first accepted Mand'alor the Abandoner's offer to induct her nite owls into official service.

She looked on with admiration till the rallymaster had finished. Cult-like as his devotion felt from her own experiences with the nite owls, She could still herself joining the watch in another time. But with the Mand'alor's betrayal against Aloy and her family, She couldn't let herself trust any leader but herself. At least, This early on.
She knowingly taken a risk by siding with the watch despite this, But she had a plan if things went sour. Thankfully, It seemed she wouldn't need to act on it.

<"Hmh. You sound like a republic senator, But I admire both your spirit and cause, Rallymaster. The watch is lucky to have you"> She says teasingly, Though she meant what she said.

<"You've got me sold. Once we reach my archives, Your boys are welcome to whatever~">

The commlink crackles to life within her helm, Causing her to look away suddenly as she fiddles with the commlink nob on her helm, Listening to the garbled static and what was presumably a message from her men.

<"They're back... The Empire's back..."> She hisses, Looking up at all present
<"If it's all the same, I gotta get my archives before the sith do! I'll send men to hijack the old sith defenses and keep you folks covered. We have to use the tunnels to find them so I don't see why we shouldn't go with Stardust">

<"Kranak- Go where you like, But we could use your gun in the tunnels">

​

 

[Apollyon The Betrayer]

T U N N E L S​

Tag: Rynn Vizsla | Stardust Solus Skirae | Kranak Vizsla | Tahlah Vizsla |​

Forces: x20 Death Wactch super commandos | x2 Moridinae Golems​

The dimly lit shuttle train lurched and rocked within the pitch black tunnels, Giving ambiance to what would otherwise be a silent trip. Despite the movement, Apollyon found a joyous calm here in the dark, With only the occasional lantern or the glow of her visor to light the interior.

Closing her eyes, Her mind was left to wander, Recounting better times. For a moment, It was as if she was back home on recluse, Surrounded by the duracrete walls of a warm home and the soft, Comforting pitter patter of rain on her window.
Oh how things had changed...

But alas, The falling droplets were replaced by rattling bolts and the wind by MandalMotor engines. This place had never been home to her, And it would never be comforting.

"Commander," One of her commandos breaks the nostalgic trance "Team two has arrived on Concord Dawn"

<"Very good. Tell them to begin">


The train came to a stop not long after, Blast doors opening with a hydraulic hiss as they made way for the Dar'manda warlord and her thugs. Ahead of them stood more of the corrupted sith death watch clad in red armor and guarding a newly dug out tunnel beside the tracks, With a series of wires running down, All connected to a single detonator switch.

All dropped what they were doing and looked to Apollyon as she departed the train, Coming to a stop just in front of the dig team's leader.
<"Begin.">

BOOM~

Her men blow the tunnels, Opening a pathway right into the tunnels of the Cin'vode, Which was soon rushed by the majority of her forces. Only a few remained to guard the entrance, While Apollyon herself led the march into these long forgotten halls.

​

C O N C O R D - D A W N

POV: Team 2, TSE Death Watch sergeant
Tag: Mig Gred
Forces: x20 Death Watch super commandos

The explosion Mig Gred had heard earlier was a jetpack's missile tube launching, Destroying a nearby shuttle's cockpit and those within. They descended from the clouds like fallen angels, Their drop ship hidden somewhere beyond the misty veil that brought them here.

One by one, Twenty Dar'manda warriors touched down around the encampment, Landing running and gunning on the ground or perched atop ships and cargo to fire from on high, Firing on anyone and everyone in their sights, Armed or not.

<"You will not escape so easily, Union scum!"> Their leader bellows, Wielding a pistol in one hand and a crimson beskad in the other <"We will finish what we started with Apollyon!">

As they established a landing point, Those not already occupied gunning down unionists would target smaller ships and cargo with their jetpack missiles and wrist rockets, Seeking to wreak havoc and prevent the stragglers from escaping.​

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

// ALLIES: NONE
// ENEMIES: TSE | Graug | Pollution | Planet | Darth Carnifex
// TAGS: Trajan Fett | Adenn Kyramud | Jaster Awaud | Ra Vizsla

With a twitch of the hand, the batted aside beskad was back in his hands just in time to thrust in counter, taking the blow on his vambrace from the lightsaber of the Sith megalomanic he faced. His style had deepened and changed much since the last time they crossed, and as he shoved back with the light shielded vambrace that crackled and hissed from the two objects meeting, the thrust of his beskad was aimed at his oppponents face in a bold counter.

He let the light saber push the arm down, as if overwhelmed, and when it came just shy of a fourty-five degree angle, the smith smiled behind the cold visor he wore as he surged his arm up and fired the whipcord from his bracer, aimed at the ankles of his foe. If it found any purchase on legs or such (though ideally it would be the ankles) he would be yanking back with all his might on the device as it retracted, hopefully to throw his opponent on their back or at the least knock their balance off. To facilitate this he would step back as he yanked back on the cord, gaining breathing space as he hopefully unbalanced the other.

Glowing blade sailed in his hand to the very face of darkness, and hellish shadows wreathed them both as shield and lightsaber flared and sparked in the midst of the ancient throne room. It was less for the honor of those who called him dar'manda and more for his own peace at this point. And for vengeance against the face of that which had overthrown his mind and set him on the path of exile and shame. Carnifex was the very avatar of his own shame, and he channeled that rage at such in equal measure to the calm, sure peace that death was but one misstep away.

A maelstrom of conflicting emotions that led to resolute resignation to fate, and determination to not let it be at the hands of one such as he fought now. He needed to try and find these Death Watch his helmet was pinging about. Eventually, he did. The Union he had a lesser opinion of by their performance. And these graug were bothersome in the extreme. With a breath, he huffed out a warning over sub-vocal to radio. Carnifex would hear nothing, unless he could monitor radio signal by magic.

"Graug coming from below in Sundari palace in a horde. Reinforcement recommended."

No tag. No announcement. Just a general broadcast on Mandalorian channels. Though he wasn't hiding who he was on his HUD tag.

 

[Saga of Valour]

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// Outer Rim Territories // Mandalore Sector and System // Northern Hemisphere. //
// Crusader Corvette; Spear of the Faithful // Shipmistress Alani Renliss. //
Engage the Sith Starfighters; Protect Skull Squadron.
​

​

It took everything she had to restrain the proud smile that bubbled behind her lips. She was honoured by the Fleetmaster to be given this task. While it wasn’t as glorious as the bombardment transpiring in the Northern Hemisphere, the task was enough to prove her worth to the Death Watch and the Crusade thereafter. Her warship, the Spear of the Faithful and her two cousins, would bring the fight to the Sith Forces that arrived in-system. If left alone, they would bombard the transports and landers that broke away towards the surface, slaughtering whatever vile creatures were brought to the Corpse-world. Effectively, this glorious task brought the entirety of the Crusades’ purpose to the fore. The Sith were the ones to defile their ancestral homeworld, so it was only fitting that their soldiers’ blood would water the grave that Mandalore became.

What made it so difficult to conceal that smile, however, was that the task before her was a challenge. She revelled in the opportunity that was laid before her, despite the reality of the situation slowly worming its way into the recesses of her mind. It wasn't another bout in the simulators or some wargame with their weapons set on stun. This would be an encounter that would either make or break the trust that Lord Vizsla invested in her and her fellow Shipmasters. Not only that, but it would be a battle that would test her resolve in a scenario without a safety net. Would she crack under pressure? Would her crew? There were far too many questions that begged for answers. She needed to focus.

It was then that the Shipmistress turned her gaze towards the tactical screen implanted into her command throne. There, she allowed her mind to empty - only to be filled soon after by the details presented on the holographic display.

Her warships were outnumbered. That determination was simple to make, as there were a plethora of Sith Warships populating the skies, alongside those starships that bore the sigils of the craven Union. Some traded blows with one another, but others just remained on station with their weapons primed and shields flaring to life. They seemed like they were on the verge of conflict, but the dramatic lack of it - made the Shipmistress think there was something else at play here. To further cement that budding assumption, a massive warship that bore the twinned sigils of the Union and Clan Awaud broke away from the planet and began moving towards the Orbital Array.

Were they in league with the Sith? Is that why they weren’t engaging their flotilla? Is that why Clan Awaud was here in such numbers? If such speculation was true, it didn’t bode well for the Death Watch and their Crusade. Especially those that found themselves aboard the Shipyards where that Battleship intended to utilize their primary armament. As their Corvette’s sailed across the solar tides, the Shipmistress commanded that a warning be sent to the warriors aboard the Orbital Array. Perhaps, with some forewarning, they’d be able to evacuate the station before the battleship opened fire. If not, then… the first bloodshed between these Mandalorian factions would coat the Union’s hands - condemning them all to be faithless kinslayers.

With the warning sent, the Shipmistress turned her attention towards the spread of Sith starfighters engaging the Squadron of Fang fighters off their bow. It wasn’t long after the connection was made that the Corvette’s guns began tracking targets. The warship’s battle computer ran the numbers and began applying a threat marker to every combatant within their immediate battle-sphere. A single squadron of enemy fighters ranked higher than the rest, as their movements were somewhat more erratic. It could’ve been the slight twitch of anticipation behind the stick or something far more sinister. But, whatever the case was - it helped place this squadron far above the others, marking them out as superior to the rest of their Sith counterparts.

As the engagement began, with Skull Squadron moving to intercept that unit of Sith aces, it fell to the Corvette’s to keep the other starfighters at bay. They needed to ensure that the Mandalorian pilots weren’t swarmed, that their backs were covered whilst they battled their Sith counterparts. Thus, the Shipmistress gave the order to engage. With the firing solutions calculated and shared between the three starships, the guns began barking in the silence of space - painting retina-searing beams across the bespeckled canvas of infinite night. It was a beautiful sight to behold, but it was a shame that what would result from such a kaleidoscope of coalesced lighting could only speak to one’s demise.
​

Such was the tragic duality of war.
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~-~*~-~
| Seela Leini | Corso Rook |
Relevancy Tag:
Jurr Awaud
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[Mig Gred]

Location: Concord Dawn; New Dawn
Equipment: In bio
Tags: Apollyon The Betrayer

Mig heard their words as he ran up. Apollyan? Of karking course it was that dar'manda, dar'jetii'aliit! He didn't quite know if they were with the Crusade group or not, but he did know he wanted to protect the other ships.

"Ash! You're the eyes in the Phoenix, so I need them now!" Soon, and AI figure appeared in the HUD, quickly seemed to view some things.

"Alor, they're hitting everywhere! Not sure I can pin them down." Great. That's just what he needed. A scatter tactic was good for small forces like this. Scariff showed that centuries ago. Made it hard to get solid numbers on the enemy, and while he could rely on Ash for a lot of things, she was still limited, especially with the amount of effort she'd be pushing to launch prep for the Core Ship. They'd just have to fight it out. And Mig soon faced the Gundark that called them cowards.

"Well you Hutt's shebs (butt), you made one mistake. Greds are a lot more then just a Union clan." He then noticed Fora coming behind him, smirking under his helmet. "And we aren't the only ones who live here." He would then ignite the blades of his Trayc'kad, holding it in a ready position before getting into a fighting stance. He'd let electricity arc in his grip before unleashing it too. This was going to be a fight.

Meanwhile, elsewhere Leddie Gred was running back home when she spotted one of the Death Watch. She glared, pulling her pair of Trayc'kal before opening fire.

"Hey Slamo! Get out of here and go pick on some dar'jetii or something!"

 

[Tahlah Vizsla]

Tags: Aloy Vizsla Kranak Vizsla Stardust Solus Skirae Rynn Vizsla Apollyon The Betrayer
Equipment:

• DD6 Blaster Pistol (2 of them)
• Neimodian Rifle
• Vibroblade
• Beskar Mandalorian Armor
• Rocket Boots

Tahlah continued to wait. There was still nothing from the others that went into the tunnels. There were some sounds that echoed to their position at the entrance of the fortress, though she thought they were just her imagination since she was itching for a fight. Her pistols were now tuned, and there was nothing better she could do but stand around doing nothing but watching. There was only six of these younger vod including the young Nautolan Viszla. She did not learn their names. She felt no reason to, at least not yet. Two of them were fulfilling their duties as exactly ordered. They stood vigil like statues. So eager to appease their leaders. That was one way to do that.

Now finished tuning equipment out of boredom, Tahlah stood upright from the wall near the tunnel entrance. Not speaking to the others, who were sitting around like she was, she peaked down the tunnel. It was black.; empty. Nothing but an endless horizontal pit from the outside. It looked like something was lurking further in the shadows, and secretly looking back at her behind the visor of her helmet. Despite fighting Vong not too long ago, it was these dark tunnels and what may lurk inside them, that shook her to the core far more. The most shown with the other vod, was just a slight shudder that was easy to miss.

She then turned, and looked at the others. One was also tuning his weapons, two others were quietly talking between themselves, and the other two were still watching like told. She paced a few minutes, and then approached the one doing weapon maintenance. "You thinking what I'm thinking?", she said standing above him as he sat on the ground with his now cleaned pistol in his lap.
"Maybe. What exactly do you mean?"
"The others aren't coming back here. We need to contact the other squads to get here ASAP."
"Yeah. I am thinking what you're thinking."

The other two that were talking quietly overheard. They walked over to join the conversation. One was at least a foot taller than Tahlah, and another was about her height, if not slightly taller. The shorter one of the two spoke up, "Glad to see others thought the same. Wish we did this earlier. Let's contact our leaders in the upper parts of the fort, shall we?"

All others in the conversation nodded. The two on watch turned around to see what the commotion was, but then realized it was far to ahead to get the other four in the little group outside the tunnel to follow orders like they were. So, they continued in some vain hope that they would eventually follow the example. Tahlah quickly put her wrist communicator up, "This is Tahlah Vizsla to Stardust Solus. We are the last of those who went into the tunnels. Orion took most of our squad into the tunnels, but had six of us on the outside as guards. We too, have not heard anything from them. We think they might have been ambushed, or went too deep into the tunnels where comms cannot reach them. Is anybody going to come to our position at the tunnel entrance soon? A search party in the tunnels might end up being necessary, as I and a few others here, do not think they will be coming back out any time soon."

Tahlah then returned her gaze to the fellow vod. "Now we wait."

 

[Siv Dragr]

C R I M S O N
HU N T

Objective: Seek Vengeance | Eliminate Crimson Hunt Target
Tag: Darth Vulcanus
Theme: x

The challenge seemed to startle the Sith. At least, he paused if but only for a moment, and Siv could feel the beast's yellow eyes assessing this new prey, still holding the massive cannon that seemed to be naught but a blaster in the arms of the gargantuan Sith Lord. For others, the size of his foe would be intimidating, overwhelming menacing -- but Siv knew all too well that the larger they were, the harder they would fall.

One of the Sith's lieutenants besmirched his superior for a chance to kill Siv, but Vulcanus waved him off. It seemed that some twisted sense of honor, or blackened pride, had driven Vulcanus to accept Siv's challenge. Just as much as he'd expected. Siv wouldn't have it any other way -- he'd sooner see the Sith's head on a pike, then have to deal with the army of Graug that surrounded him. The army began to march into the city, filing around the ring of fire that Siv had made.

"Brave to challenge me, lesser," the Sith thundered back over the cacophony of his marching army, "but foolish." With a single heave, the Sith lunged the blaster cannon in his hand at Siv, the bulky power cap ripping away from the mass of metal and parts as its bulk spun towards Siv. If it was an attempt to quickly end the fight, it was a poor one; the cannon traveled slow, and Siv's much-faster reflexes allowed him enough time to duck and let the thrown weapon sore over his head, leaving him unscratched.​

Unfortunately, though, Siv was right; it hadn't been a genuine attempt to end his life right there. The ring of fire grew higher as the Sith began to cal on a dark magic, growing hotter and more fierce until it was like a cage. And suddenly the cage descended. Siv covered his face as the flames licked his armor. The beskar'gam would hold the heat of the fire off, but not for very long. Sweat beading under his helmet, blinded by the light of the fire so bright that even his heads-up-display was unable to compensate, he groped around his left vambrace before finding the right control. A flicker of ignition, unheard amongst the inferno, and Siv was propelled into the air, high above the fire below.

His trajectory carried him upwards and over, and soon he was beginning a parabolic descent onto the Sith below. He did not know if he would gain the element of surprise; likely not, although one who was so intent on his death may be too focused on the fire below to notice the Mandalorian diving from above. Regardless, Siv did not allow for any chance or luck. He didn't believe in such things. His wrist whipping back, he sent it forward as his Tarka'yayr electrowhip was cast, the composite cortosis, beskar, and ultrachrome-weave filaments extending as they crackled with electricity on the Sith below. In his other hand, he loosed bolts from his armor-piercing blaster pistol, hoping to take out his foe with the volley of steel, electricity and blasterfire.
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[Darth Vulcanus]

The Inferno engulfed the Mandalorian, the roar of the flames like a cackling laughter that sent the lesser's soul off without honor or glory. Vulcanus smiled beneath his helm, his eyes fixated on the Inferno as it lashed out in all directions...but then the air shifted ever so slightly. Something was wrong.

The first bolt crashed into the Sith Lord's pauldron with a hellish scream of twisting metal. Black blood splurged from a mangled mess of smoking, jagged ultrachrome. Vulcanus' howl shook the air itself, his firery gaze shooting upwards to find the Mandalorian plummeting towards him. When? How? He had let himself become distracted.

The barrage of disruptor bolts fell like brimstone. Vulcanus built the force in the palm of his left hand and tried to swat one away like he would any other blaster bolt. The bolt disappeared into his claws and his mind quickly panicked - he could feel the energy trying to burst out from his body. He needed to dispell it quickly. There was no time to fling the energy back at his attacker. So, back pedaling through a hail of blaster fire, Vulcanus released the energy into the ground. Another scream of pain followed as the immense disruptor energy exploded from his left palm, his fingers vanishing in a puff of smoke and light as the round reappeared only to disappear back into the ground.

Then came the crackle of electricity as Siv unleashed the whip from his gauntlet. He had to stop the attack, give his body time to heal. Bringing his arms back up, Vulcanus guarded his face from the continued volley of fire. Another impact and roar of pain as his form exploded into mangled flesh and burning ultrachrome - his arm hanging by mere meat and cracked bone.

Then his counter came.

Drawing on the agony coursing through his own body, Vulcanus reached out to the Warrior's jetpack - just like he had with the flamer earlier. With a burst of fury and energy, Vulcanus ignited the fuel reserved in the right booster - seeking to send the Mandalorian back up unto the air while spinning his body downward.

The momentum of such a sudden burst of speed would hopefully be too much to correct from. Then, willing both boosters to ignite, Vulcanus let loose. The Jetpack would fire full force, seeking to send the Mandalorian crashing at crippling velocity to the ground where the uncontrolled burn of fuel would cause the device to explode.

Siv Dragr

 

[Adenn Kyramud]

Location: Corridors of the palace
Objective: Fight back the invaders
Links: Beskad Elite |
Tags: Jaster Awaud | Darth Carnifex | Ijaat Mereel | Ra Vizsla | Darth Vulcanus
Allies: MU and allies
Neutralish: DWC
Enemies: TSE/Graug and allies
SONG​

They strode into the enemy fire without a care. In lock step they marched to war. With shields raised and heavy repeating blasters already blaring, the Beskad Elite evened the playing field for the Mandalorians. Hell, they dominated it in favor of their vode. With a warcry uttered, they were advancing towards the droids, taking the punishment dealt to them, and dealing it back threefold. The sheer volume of their fire filled the corridor, cutting down numerous droids and locking them in a pincer move. From their front the members of Clan Awaud held them in place, and from their rear the Beskad Elite cut into them with controlled fury.

The two Mandalorian forces now bore down on the droids, aiming to crush them beneath their boots. In the case of the Beskad Elite, quite literally. They advanced swiftly and without hesitation, giving the droids no chance to form a counter attack, and only allowing them to fire back. This pressure from two opposing sides forced the droids to retreat or face annihilation. And thus, they attempted to retreat, falling back down the third corridor they'd come from. But they gained no respite as they fell back, and a third of their number was lost by the time the Beskad Elite finally reached Clan Awaud.

All but one of the Beskad Elite immediately moved to pursue them, giving them no chance to regroup. They continued to advance as they had, with a proper shield wall and unending fire cascading down the halls. This time however, they allowed gaps in between their number should any of Clan Awaud join them. It was a measure to allow them to fight as well, to gain their own glory and assist the battle further. The one Beskad Elite that hadn't advanced with his vode was a medic, and he went towards Jaster and his wounded. Immediately he set to work helping how he could, though it was clearly just patch work. And as he worked, he spoke up to Jaster, appraising him of the situation.

"Jaster Awaud, Alor Kyramud sends his regards. We have vode across the palace already moving to engage several new threats, both under and all around the city." His voice was low, metallic, and clearly annoyed by something. "No doubt he will be joining us soon, as more forces are mobilized for a fighting retreat. As for what we have now, there are more medics down the hall in the throne room, or one of the adjacent rooms." The Beskad Elite paused for a moment then, taking a glance about before switching channels to only speak to Jaster. "There are unsubstantiated rumors that Ra Vizsla and his 403rd have returned. Do what you will with that, but they are mere rumors for now. We also have Graug and Sith forces bearing down on us from every corner. So it's a fight we'll have to hold what we can."

Then, without another word, the medic finished up his patchwork and stood. Whatever happened next to these wounded would be up to Jaster and his vode, the medic had done all he could, and was eager to return to the fight. Thus, with a final nod to Jaster, he went to join his vode. It was clear that these droids were the least of their concerns, but the Graug and Sith weren't yet close enough to fight. But they could be heard off in the distance, already howling and engaging Mandalorian forces.

Said forces were doing what they could to make a fighting retreat. The Graug forces from Carnifex and Vulcanus were emerging nigh on everywhere, and it was clear most areas would be overrun. So they retreated, burning those that got too close, and setting traps and explosives wherever possible. At certain choke points true resistance was to be found, but by and large it was hit and run strikes against whatever leaders could be found. Otherwise, flamethrowers were used in clear abundance, burning back the disease the Graug clearly were. It wouldn't be enough, it never was with the Graug, but it didn't have to be. So long as they held long enough to go further, it was enough.

This planetary conflict played itself in real time across countless tactical tables, and countless more messages reached Adenn's ears for him to coordinate. And coordinate he did, despite having left the command table, he still gave out orders and directed the flow of battle where possible. But as he emerged from the throne room and purposefully strode down the corridor, he slowly gave less orders, allowing his officers to take over the burden. Adenn instead made his way towards the conflict are where Clan Awaud and the droids had just fought. Behind him strode two Beskad Elite, dwarfing Adenn in many aspects, but it was clear he was just as heavily armed and armored as they.

Stopping in the corridor, Adenn took a moment to look over the conflict, whatever injured were still there, and any dead that now rested in the Manda. Hands tightening into fists, Adenn snarled silently to himself. This is what it had all come too. It wasn't just here either, for Adenn had heard countless vode die over the many years, and today was no different. That was the way of war, but it still frustrated him to no end. So many betrayals, so many people abandoning their vode, so much loss. All because vode couldn't unite, because they spited one another, because they hurled insults and care naught for the sacrifices given.

It was an endless cycle, one that fed itself until all involved died. The only hope for it to end lay with the new, and that thought simply made Adenn snarl again, helmeted head swiveling across the battlefield once more. That hope in the new led to all this, and the hope for the old did as well. Few could see that unity was needed, fewer still could agree on what that unity was. None across the many bands of ideas could come together, not without bloodshed at least.

Gritting his teeth, Adenn took a deep breath before focusing on the present. It was useless to think on the past or the future now, no matter how much the people sought to remind me. The rumored return of Ra Vizsla, Ijaat Mareel making an appearance, it was maddening. The past coming back to haunt the present, the old claiming they were new, it was all so maddening. At the very least some things never changed, and one of those things was war, something Adenn was all too well versed with. Taking another breath, Adenn took a few moments to interact with any who had spoken to him, and then he would leave them.

He'd head down the corridor, away from where his vode now fought, knowing they could handle anything thrown at them. Instead he sought to make his way outside, hoping to better coordinate if need be, or better yet join the fighting where it was most needed. Secretly though, he also wished to see Sundari a final time. He wanted to see the city he'd fought over so often, sacrificed so much for, one final time.

 

[Ra Vizsla]

​

// Faction: Mandalorian Union
// GARRISON //: Mando'ade Exiles | 403rd Battalion

// ALLIES: None
// ENEMIES | TSE | Graug | Death Watch | Pollution | Planet
// TAGS | Darth Carnifex Ijaat Mereel Adenn Kyramud Jaster Awaud

---

Whatever it takes.




The fledgeling son of Mandalore, Trajan, apparently didn't distract Ra for long as he and the Black Sky Basilisk came roaring over the horizon, heading in the direction of the Sundari Palace. Graug, Sith monstrosities, and other traps of the Sith were bursting from the ground in this vicinity - and the 403rd were quickly moving to engage with them. Around the western perimeter of the Palace, the 403rd were beginning to build a flank as other Mandalorian Union soldiers were engaging the beasts elsewhere throughout the city block.

Just another example of the massive damage done to Mandalore through the past few decades. Another historical monument destroyed, another relic lost. Like the problematic philosophical viewpoint, was the Sundari Palace even still the Sundari Palace at this point - or something new, having had been rebuilt so many times.

Still, Ra flew in to cover the 403rd's opposing flank, as Black Sky began blasting on all cylinders, her cannons opening up on the infantry on the ground as she flew by at Ra's command. He lifted his spear as they zoomed by in the sky, hoping to give lifting inspiration to the troops. The black thorned tail of the Black Sky whipped by, cracking like thunder through the sky.

Another strafing run, another lap of death danced on the graug as Ra made his rounds with this basilisk again, circling the palace in death and Mandalorian hailfire.

​

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

THE FALL

Location: Mandalore System, Concordia, Fortress Imperious, Within Sanctum Halls
Local Time: 02:35
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Repurpose War Materials for the Clan
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 2 (Plus the Goran’s Stand, it’s scabbard rests over his left pistol holster on his Kama)
Tags: Stardust Solus Skirae | Aloy Vizsla | Rynn Vizsla | Tahlah Vizsla

The lowered rifles clangored gently within the abandoned halls of the sanctum. It was the Deathwatch Mandalorians, seemingly lowering their weapons at the command of their Warmaster. The silence within the derelict halls of the abandoned fortress was only then disturbed by the discourse of the Deathwatch Rally Master Rynn, and the occasional response from The Green Hand and Aloy.

:: Very well, Aloy. But, I will hold you responsible should things turn sour. ::
He began before pausing to cast a glance in the Gunfighter’s direction.
:: As the name Death Watch is often viewed with suspicion and rancour, I imagine we wouldn’t be the ones to draw first blood. I hope this would be the first step towards our redemption in our people’s eyes - and perhaps a budding friendship between us. ::

“the vizlsa and deathwatch have caused a number of deaths including those close to me, they've attacked the mand'alore I've followed and have attacked mandalores people”

The Green Hand took a few steps forward, drawing the distance closer between the two to five feet before she stopped and motioned to aloy

“However, I've not had conflict with one in so long, and I've come to find out now I am now family to the clan itself...aloy here has shown me that change is possible between us. Old blood and the dead must finally be laid to rest if we are to move forward any at all, the fact your willing to put aside such things even with one who uses the force like myself and the brotherhood let's me know even more”

<"If you insist, Stardust. I'll have to come with an annoying name for you like me and Tan do with everyone else"> Aloy chuckled happily at Stardust.

“Change? Redemption?” the giant ill-temperedly mused. The giant’s grasp on his rifle tightened; his muscles tensed up while he held rear security with the other Mando’ade around them while their superiors conversed. The Deathwatch were nowhere to be found during the Union’s campaign against the Graug and the Sith on Manda’yaim. The giant and his Ori’ramikad brethren had bled for the Union and the planet. The Deathwatch just recently decided to show up when the Union fell. “Redemption my shebs, vod...” The Deathwatch would have to do more to redeem themselves in the eyes of Kranak and the Manda’yaim people. They were like vultures, feeding off the carcass of a warrior, fallen in battle.

Even so the giant simmered down. He knew full well why he and his Clan Alor were here for. They were in the same ballpark as the Deathwatch. They were the very vultures themselves that he associated with the Deathwatch. Kranak’s head lowered; his grimace shrouded underneath his buy’ce. He wanted to be in the frontlines fighting off Nitcaril'ua, the Graug. But alas, his clan ties to the house outweighed his duty towards the Union. He’d never forgive himself for doing that. He cursed silently at the millenia old tradition of the house. Te Aliit.

“What good is that when we abandon our people in their time of need?” The giant resented, but the reality of the situation painfully reminded itself to Kranak. The Mand’alor himself abandoned them; when the sons and daughters of Manda’yaim needed him the most. Knowing that, he couldn’t blame Aloy, or the Deathwatch for that matter. The only choice both the house and the Deathwatch had was to obtain whatever the Union was leaving behind and get out; to continue the fight against the Dar'jetii.

:: We came for the secrets this Fortress holds, :: He began before sweeping his gaze up towards those situated in the levels above. :: I’m told that there are several command chambers in the spires above that once belonged to the former Emperor and his Dark Council. While I’m certain their databanks were wiped and purged, there’s still something that can be salvaged: command codes, schematics, outdated troop deployments, star charts and the like. ::

Rynn paused then, allowing his echoing words to sink in.

​

:: From there, we plan to move into the tunnels below. I’m sure you’ve already noted that this Fortress is connected to various installations on the Moon’s surface. We intend to utilize said tunnels to move unseen and lay claim to whatever relics were abandoned below. ::

:: Mandalore’s dead, :: He continued. :: The Sith believed that in breaking our world, they’d broken our people. While noble in their intentions, the Union merely perpetrated the Sith’s nefarious plot with their deeds. They were unwitting puppets in some ‘grand design.’ It’s time for us to break our chains to this world, to rid ourselves of the tangled strings of another’s fate and destiny. The future is ours to shape and mould. With those relics stored below, we will be able to embody our spiritual ancestors, the Taung, and set out into the stars. There, a New Mandalore awaits - as does justice for the fallen. ::

:: So, what say you all to pooling our resources, and taking what we find? We can divide the spoils later after we’re done digging amongst the ashes. ::

Her hand extended out to him to shake, a small smirk played across her face as she listened and then chuckled

we've not yet been to the upper levels, I suppose fair game is you get first grab at it, however we know about the tunnels below and I was just about to head there. I sent a group to investigate and lost contact, normally I wouldn't worry at all but they would've sent someone back by now if it was something with communication which leads me to believe...that something is down there with them. If I may request my men and yours here can make quicker progress on data download together while we go investigate these tunnels no?

As much as the giant hated to hear the truth, the Rallymaster was right. Be it the Sith’s insidious deception, the lack of Mand’alor, or whatever it may have caused the Union to fall; their ties to Manda’yaim worsened the situation. The events of the present were the wake-up call for the Mando’ade. In the wake of the now awoken Mando’ade awaited a painful exodus from Manda’yaim. The search for the Evaar’la Manda’yaim would begin, very soon.

The giant would’ve continued to lose himself in thought if it weren’t for Aloy. He pulled himself together. Kranak raised his muse induced gaze from the ferroconcrete floor and continued to hold security at the rear.

<"Hmh. You sound like a republic senator, But I admire both your spirit and cause, Rallymaster. The watch is lucky to have you.">
She says teasingly.

<"You've got me sold. Once we reach my archives, Your boys are welcome to whatever~">

She stopped mid sentence suddenly. Kranak looked over his left shoulder to see why. He saw her tampering with her buy’ce; the commlink nob in particular. She spoke with abhorrence a moment later.

<"They're back... The Empire's back...">
She hisses, Looking up at all present
<"If it's all the same, I gotta get my archives before the sith do! I'll send men to hijack the old sith defenses and keep you folks covered. We have to use the tunnels to find them so I don't see why we shouldn't go with Stardust">

<"Kranak-">

The giant Ori’ramikad swiftly turned to face her while keeping his rifle in a field-ready stance; the barrel pointed in a forty-five degrees angle to the left at the ferroconcrete floor while comfortably resting the rifle against his chest.

<"Go where you like, But we could use your gun in the tunnels">

[“Lead the way. I’m coming with you.”] said the giant, shortly after nodding at Aloy.

This was going to be a nice change of pace from all the talking. A sinister grin spread across his buy’ce shrouded face. What other way would be the best for taking one's frustration out of his enemies?

 

[Saga of Valour]

​

// Outer Rim Territories // Mandalore Sector and System // MandalMotors Orbital Array //
// Talon Mk II Dropship // Rally Master Vendrik Bralor //
Taking the Station by Blaster and Blade.​

Vendrick was less than impressed as the Crusader’s voice spilled across the encrypted channel. He had known that the woman was relatively green, freshly trained and likely sporting more than a few rough edges. But, as she wasted her time and breath on using both his name and rank? That elicited a heavy, frustrated sigh. When it came to combat scenarios, every second was precious. If one wasted too much time talking or hesitating, then they willingly gave the enemy an advantage in battle. That was why comms chatter over the BattleNet was supposed to be kept to a minimum; short bursts of information to keep everyone in-the-know. Yet, it seemed that this woman decided it was best to not only waste her time citing his name and rank - but reiterate just how much trouble she was in.

It was then that the Rally Master sighed again. This time, out of disappointment in his own actions. Here he was, taking cover behind a collection of crates and proverbially chiding a fellow Warrior over their comms discipline. If one wanted to see one of their own wasting their time - they wouldn’t have to look very far. His cheeks began to redden slightly as the realization took hold. He was confident that if one of the Field Marshals were here, they’d tear him a new one for standing around getting frustrated with a subordinate. Thus, the man resolved to throw himself back into the ensuing battle and redeem himself in his own eyes. There was no other way for Vendrick to rid himself of that growing cloud of embarrassment.

He would earn his momentary redemption through combat.

Without thinking, the Rally Master threw himself forward and swung about. His rifle came with him and found itself pointed towards one of the remaining hostiles. With practiced ease, the Mandalorian feathered the trigger, causing his weapon to bark with plasmatic fury. The bolts struck true, vaporizing the armour and leaving streaks of carbon scores behind. However, the damage was superficial at best. While their weapons could take down a vehicle of this stature if they had the time and supplementary power cells, but - sadly - time and ammo weren’t on their side. Heavier weapons and adaptive tactics were needed to make the kill.

With the inclusion of their Dropship, the Crusaders had limited anti-vehicular options to utilize. One Mandalorian had brought a Magcannon with him, which was being used to great effect against the towering Droid starfighters. Every ear-bursting discharge blew a hole through the Droid’s armour plating as the impact turned the hardened surface into a writhing liquid as the two opposing forces connected. Another blue-armoured Crusader brought a mass-driven warhead launcher, which added to the cacophony of chaos and detonations with every catapulted projectile. The rest were armed similarly to the Rally Master - bearing nothing more than the spread of anti-personnel weaponry, grenades and few means to combat these armoured walkers.

Despite these drawbacks, the Crusaders were capable of adapting to the situation. Some took to flanking their adversaries, whilst others kept the Walker’s distracted. As these Warriors skirted around the towering Droids, they activated their jetpacks and mounted the central chassis. Before their feet planted themselves firmly against the Walker’s ablative hull, these Crusaders drew their blades and buried them deep into the Droid’s metallic flesh. With those towering Walkers slain, the rest soon followed - either blasted apart or sundered by a Beskad’s swift incision.

As silence began to spread throughout the Hangar Bay, the Rally Master began ordering his Crusaders to advance further into the station. When the last of the Warriors filtered outwards, heading towards the embattled Milla and her Cohort, Vendrick turned towards the Pilot and their Dropship - before commanding them to circle about and rejoin them in the fight within the Auxiliary Hangar. Thus, with his Warband dispatched, the Rally Master himself surged across the flight-deck, eager to rejoin the ensuing battle and claim the supposed treasures that were housed within this station. But, what the man didn’t know, was that somewhere in the distance - the forces of the Union sought to deprive the Death Watch of their prize.
​

~-~*~-~

| Milla Kryst |​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He tilted his head to the side in advance, the Dark Side informing him of actions that had yet to come. The sharp edge of the beskad just barely grazed his cheek, drawing a thin line of red from one side of his head to the other. Blood slowly oozed out from the wound, the liquid almost as black as the heart which beat within the former Dark Lord's chest. Upon contact with the floor or anything that was worn or wielded by Mereel, the blood would sizzle and smoke as it ate through lesser compounds. ​

​

Whipcord spun out towards Carnifex's ankles, although in the midst of movement it only constricted around the ankle of his right leg. Rather than attempting to cut through the cord to untangle himself, Carnifex actually leaped back as Mereel attempted to yank on the cord. Over six hundred pounds of Dark Side enhanced weight was put behind the force which would tug on the cord as the line grew taut with distance, Carnifex only further applying his strength to the cord as he backflipped by rotating his body until his left hand connected with the floor, his untangled leg swinging up and over as his tangled right soon followed through with his momentum in a rear aerial.​

​

The idea was that with all of the leverage and weight put behind this move, Mereel would find himself pulled forward or even yanked up into the air by the former Dark Lord's maneuver. It was clear that Carnifex was a great magnitude denser than his body would have visually indicated, his weight several times multiplied. The Dark Side of the Force also lent him immense strength piled upon what he could achieve by his own physicality, as well as allowing him to perform stunts that belonged at home in the hands of a more agile fighter. ​

​

Regardless, Carnifex continued his fight against Mereel with his saber again ignited. His movements were quick and precise, he didn't waste time on unnecessary flourish and instead focused on lethality. He had long since progressed past the point of egotistic showmanship, especially when his opponent was a Mandalorian. Though he despised the Mandalorian people and their way of life, Carnifex could begrudgingly admire their spartan mentality. Not the heady delusions of the Union, but the unadorned practicality of the Death Watch. It was why he had created his own, even if they were little more than pawns to be sacrificed.​

​

But that could be said for all those who fought beneath his banner.​

​

Expendable.​

​

Ijaat Mereel ​

 

[Milla Kryst]

Location: MandalMotors Orbital Shipyards
Interactions: Saga of Valour
Allies: Death Watch Crusade
Enemies: TBD

​

The squad Milla was with continued to utilize as many tactics as they could against these droid vehicles, trying to catch them off-guard and take the best opportunity to do some damage. One of them they managed to knock down, and they swarmed it like piranha. Milla continued to provide covering fire for the squad as they sunk their swords into it, but that was a lot of effort and munitions to take down one of the droid fighters. Thankfully, just as soon as they hopped back into cover, Vendricks reinforcements showed up. Their dropship also showed up at the hangar shielding and pushed inside; the result was the hangar bay lit up like a firecracker. It was a beautiful sight.... Milla never had anyone to count on before, no one to catch her if she would fall, she only had herself to count on. This built up her incredible will power and pain resistance, but for once.... she wasn't alone, and that was the best part about this. Even with her squad out of thermal detonators and heavy munitions, the reinforcements lit up the enemy, explosions ripping up the flight deck and the enemy droid soldiers were cut off while being fired upon from their rear.

A lot of cheers were made, but as soon as the weapons fire calmed down, the squad knew what they had to do. They had no idea how long the orbital shipyard would stand and they needed to get their mission done. The explosions by heavy weapons and the dropships weapons fire opened up a hole in the flight deck, right into the next deck below them. Since all the commotion was up here, down there was a great path to take with less enemies. After most of the squad quickly hopped down, Milla rushed out of the dropship and prepared to hop down, stopping right before falling in. "Hey Vendrik-- thank you. Flight deck clear, we're proceeding with the mission. Good luck," she finished over the comms, taking a step into the hole. The squads mission was to infiltrate the most secured areas, such as the datacenter holding the great, ancient and old schematics for ships and weaponry. Milla was going to make a copy of the data stolen for her own purposes to further DWC and their plans, and also slingshot her into her own future.

The Mandalorians didn't waste any time, they headed out, knowing their vode were right behind them, as they cleared the path ahead. Now, they weren't silent and stealthy, but they weren't making a ruckus.... at least, not yet! Milla carried that rocket launcher for a reason, but for now she pulled out the Scattergun she nabbed from the DWC armory, utilizing it to its great effectiveness in close quarters combat. She thought she made a great decision, believing this weapon would be perfect on board the shipyard. Though.... one thing that had never came to mind was how armored the place would be.... the scattergun might be going right through walls.​

 

[Jurr Awaud]

Jurr Awaud was coordinating the movement of his fleet. The complex castling of units optimized the regeneration of starships shields and lured attacking enemies into deadly fire zones. This minimized own losses. The alors first directive was the survival of his clan by looting as many resources, human and otherwise, from doomed Mandalore. To live forever in song was romantic but to live as a functional clan was more realistic. The Mandalorian culture would not die on this day!

"Open frequencies to the Crusader re-enactors on the orbit shipyards!", he commanded.

"Oya!", the comm officer said.

"Death Watch on the station, I offer you a joint venture! We help smashing the resistance and secure the resources. We demand in return copies of data and salvage rights to MandalMotors hardware on the station. Beskar artefacts would be split in equal shares.
Deal?"

It has to be seen if pride and old animosities would be stronger than survival instincts and pragmatism. His clan, the space clan who holds MandalMotors legacy at highest esteems, would loot this legacy - with the help of the Death Watch or by hauling in the debris with tractor beams.

Milla Kryst​

 

[Rynn Vizsla]

​

As their weapons began to collectively lower, Rynn listened to the former Warmaster speak of her Cohort’s intention. It seemed that her goals were aligned with that of the Death Watch, if unknowingly. The Beskar Brotherhood came to the Fortress too in the hopes of claiming what information was left behind. While the Rally Master had an idea of what it was they’d be recovering, there was little in the way of specifics. And, in truth, it didn’t matter. Whatever the Sith stored on their databanks regarding the Mandalorian people would be outdated in the wake of their genocide. Anything else that could be found would simply point the Death Watch and their crusade in the right direction. Their vengeance would have a name, or three.

But, the Twi’lek’s gaze hardened then as she briefly spoke of the past. It was a look that Rynn was all too familiar with, as the man had seen it all of his life. Even though exiled and consigned to a life in the depths of space, every Mandalorian that crossed his path gave him that same hardened stare. Especially after they learned from which Clan the youth hailed from. He couldn’t blame them. Clan Vizsla was broken into thousands of pieces and tarnished by the sins of those that came before. While their visions of a brighter future and cultural resurgence were idealistic in a sense, they were always corrupted by Warrior-kings that were ensnared by their unchecked ambitions.
​

A bright and prosperous future - became one soaked in the blood of friends and family alike.​

It was then that Stardust drew closer, filling Rynn’s mind with a flurry of potentials. None of them were pleasant. She could’ve been stepping closer to drink in his measure, to note where the weakest points of his armour were. It would’ve been easy to draw a dagger at this distance. Even without the aid of the Force, this woman was undoubtedly faster than the Rally Master could comprehend. Before he would even know what would happen, the dagger could’ve slid between his Cuirass and pierced his heart. But, instead of a blade - the Twi’lek offered an outstretched hand instead.

Rynn blinked, momentarily stunned by the gesture. For a second there, the man didn’t know what to do or how to respond. However, as he regained his senses, the Rally Master nodded once and accepted the gesture in the old way. Shaking hands held an unspoken duality that favoured the Imperialist factions and their Democratic counterparts. There was no unspoken subtext that lay beneath the surface when two warriors came to terms. No serpentine smile that betrayed malicious intent. It was a gesture that was honest in its intention and execution. When two warriors clashed their vambraces together and gripped forearms? Well, that was an honourable sign of respect that belied the aural violence.

When the Warrior’s embrace was broken a heartbeat later, as the two withdrew their arms back to their person, Rynn felt a small smile crease his lips. Not because of the teasing from his Cousin from Roon. But, this entire scene, where three factions gathered within an enemy Citadel and chose - not to fight - but to put aside their differences and find common ground. He would remember this. Was it the start of something new? Perhaps. But, the Rally Master couldn’t afford to dwell on such notions, not when Aloy hissed something that prickled the flesh at the base of his neck. He had known that the Sith still had some influence in this System - as they had left billions of Graug on the surface of Mandalore. There were likely some stubborn Sith-Imperials who refused to evacuate when the Empire pulled out of the Sector.

What he didn’t expect - was that a flotilla of warships bearing their blasted sigil to suddenly appear over their benighted homeworld and depositing planetary landers with reckless abandon.

Could it be that they were seeking to extract the Graug from the surface, or were they wanting to slaughter what remained of the people that still clung to this doomed System? There were far too many questions and too few answers to make any further investigation into their actions worthwhile. Thus, when there was an urge to descend into the tunnels, Rynn nodded - knowing that they needed to be swift from here on in. :: I agree with both of you, :: the Rally Master said as his gaze shifted from Stardust to Aloy. :: The Tunnels seem like our best option to see everyone achieve their objectives. ::

However, in such tight confines - their numbers would surely work against them. Thus, the Crimson-clad Warrior turned about to face his Warband. With a gesture, the man singled out a Silver-coated Mandalorian accompanied by nearly a dozen Crusaders. :: Tarre, take your Cohort to the upper levels and gather what information you can find. Make copies of everything you can. If there’s any Beskar - be sure to take it. We’ll divvy up the spoils after we’ve dealt with whatever’s in the tunnels. ::

Unfinished, Rynn turned to another Silver-armoured Warrior. :: Vhissa, we saw a Sith Statue in the courtyard outside on the way in. Since... we’ve essentially secured this portion of the Fortress, go see if it’s made of Beskar like the one raised in Sundari. If it is - tear that damned thing outta the ground and return to the Flotilla. If not? Do with it as you will. I’m sure the former Sith Emperor would love to see his precious facsimile defiled. ::

With their commands given, the twinned Cohorts broke away from the pack to complete their newfound objectives. As they departed from the Rally Master’s company, Rynn turned about to face his new companions. While their numbers would doubtlessly be diminished as they entered the tunnels - that didn’t mean their combat prowess would suffer. Especially with towering figures like the Warrior that Aloy identified as Kranak. That man looked like he could take on the entire Empire by himself, and Rynn couldn’t help but respect that. Such a fighting spirit would serve them well in the days to come.

:: Well, :: Rynn began as he turned back towards Stardust. :: You and the Brotherhood got here first and know where these tunnels start. So, the Death Watch and I shall follow your lead. ::​

~-~*~-~

| Stardust Solus Skirae | Aloy Vizsla | Kranak Vizsla | Tahlah Vizsla | ​