Civil War: First Strike | Mandalorians

[Ra Vizsla]

https://soundcloud.com/universalfreemusic/lorde-everybody-wants-to-rule-the-world-assassins-creed-unity-soundtrack​

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S U N D A R I​

Jewel of the East​

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Three horn blasts resounded through the air at the break of dawn, awakening the tattered remains of the city.​

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A Mandalorian's voice was heard over the city-wide alarm speakers, echoing across the broken shells of the domed cities.​

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"Martial law is in effect. ​

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The Alor'e Council has been overthrown.​

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Mand'alor Ra Vizsla has assumed control of the Government...."​

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K E L D A B E​

Capital​

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"....Martial Law is in effect.​

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The criminal traitor known as Mia Monroe is at large.​

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All aiding and abetting her escape will be found guilty of treason..."​

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C I R Y C G A R O R I Y A​

The Cold Iron North​

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"...for which the punishment is death.​

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Remain calm..."​

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M A N D A L M O T O R S H. Q.​

Keldabe

"....Martial law is in effect."​

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Death Watch soldiers poured into the cities.​

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Ra, however, stood with a larger contingent before the ruined structure of MandalMotors.​

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Undoubtedly, the company had moved most of its operation to Concord Dawn.​

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However, it would be a long day.​

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And there was much to do.​

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"Secure the building.​

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Find Monroe."​

 

[Subject 37]

Sundari Prison

A low growl erupted from his throat.

Three soldiers of Death Watch flanked him, each wearing their Beskar armor and each holding heavy blaster rifles. A fourth was crouching in front of the heavy blast door that stood in their way, his hands diligently working at setting explosive charges. The Togorian watched him carefully, his one eye glancing towards the guards that had been deposited at the nearby railway. None of them were dead, though Aryn had come very close to breaking their neck in the process of subduing them.

It wasn't easy for someone like him to go easy, especially when certain beings were simply more...fragile than one would expect. Yet it had to be done, the men and women holding Sundari prison had not declared their loyalty for Ra, in fact they had done the exact opposite.

Shortly before the arrival of the true Mand'alor certain members of Sundari security had taken it under their purview to arrest dozens of Mandalorians suspected of being Death Watch. Aryn knew that a few of them had been, but also knew that at least a quarter of them had nothing to do with the group, at least not yet. Either way the Togorian was here to see them freed, even if it meant killing those who would stand against Ra. Aryn shifted slightly, motioning towards the three others.

"Step back." His voice was a low growl.

All of them complied as their brother completed setting the charges, the group moving around the corner as they prepared to break their allies free.

 

[Orn'om]

"What do you mean they're storming the city?"

It wouldn't take long for him to figure it out.

"Sir, there are Death Watch troopers in the lobby. They're trying to get in."

War. War never changed, and it was bad for business. The share holders of MandalMotors had given him free reign over MandalMotors and its functions, but all that came to heel after Mia Monroe's stunt and the old man's return. His left eye twitched in visible irritation. Cursing under his breath he walked over to the console on the wall and flipped the switch. Throughout the building, what floors were still functional with power, sensitive rooms were shut with several inch thick turadiam and Mandalorian Steel. Alarms blared signaling to the men and women in the lobby that they were not welcome.

"Where's my armor?!" he shouted to his aide. A non-Mandalorian. She wouldn't really understand what was about to happen right now.

"And someone get that stupid old man on the com now!"

[member="Ra Vizsla"]

 

[Atiniir Starrider]

[member="Ra Vizsla"] [member="Aryn Spar"] [member="Zeke Farthen"]

Atiniir Starrider cruised over the city, HUD scanning the ground for any spots of trouble. Blaster pistol and vibrosword hung from the magnetic fasteners at his belt, and he put a comforting hand on the blaster as he flew. Atiniir was here because Ra Vizsla, true Mand'alor, had commanded it. There was still much confusion and uncertainty in the young warrior, he worried much that fighting alongside Death Watch might take him to a place he did not want to go, but the only alternative was to join up with Monroe, the woman who had razed Manda'yaim in the name of a "clean slate". As much as being a Death Watch warrior at times left a bad taste in his mouth, Atiniir would rather tough that out than be associated with a murderer. Honorable combat and proving of strength was one thing; nuking a planet was another.

Through his HUD, Atiniir suddenly caught sight of Aryn Spar. Atiniir did not know the warrior, only that he was Death Watch and seemed loyal to Ra and his mission. Stooping lower, Atiniir observed his vod. The Togorian and several others were at Sundari Prison, placing charges on a blast door. Well, helping a vod break some allies out of prison was a pretty decent mission. Flying until he was right above the group, Atiniir cut his pack to land behind Aryn. Atiniir was dressed in his full set of black and red beskar'gam, face hidden behind thje signature Mandalorian t-visor.

"Su cuy'gar, ner vod," Atiniir said, thankful he'd brushed up on his Mando'a before the mission, "Copaani gaan?"

 

[Scourge]

[SIZE=11pt]Scourge sauntered through the city streets of Keldabe boredly. Glutton was twisted round his beskar clad arm writhing its way in and out of the cracks in his armor. Last time he had been to the capital city it had been under the pretense of seeing a new Mand’alor bring her people to a new age. That had been short lived and it became quickly apparent the woman was no Mandalorian. Now that Scourge was back under the one true Mand’alor he had been tasked with uprooting dissidents that may have still supported the traitor. He was surrounded by a gaggle of Death Watch troopers, a pair of banners, held by twin poles attached to the back of Scourge’s armor announced their allegiance. They walked confidently through the broken city streets in search of their prey. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Word had spread quickly of a hideout where a few of Monroe’s lackeys were stationed. Scourge would see to it they didn’t make it out of the city. They approached the suspect building and Scourge kicked the door in. “Death Watch nobody move!” He shouted as the flimsy wooden door gave way beneath beskar boots. To his surprise and annoyance, the traitors were not prepared to surrender their establishment so easily. It had been a pub once, now the inside resembled a small fortress. Blaster fire raced towards the doorway and Scourge ducked to cover as he primed a grenade. It was going to be a long day...[/SIZE]

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Location: Keldabe, the Pirates Wife.
[member="Ra Vizsla"]


The small group of Ex-Stormtroopers sat in the second storey of the cantina, watching as Death Watch soldiers began to march through the streets. It was all reminiscent of Dosuun for the former First Order stormtroopers. The leader of the band, however was already scheming. Leaning back on his seat, feet rested on his table, as a cigarette hung out of his mouth. "I mean, if these guys are legit, they're gonna be karkin, loaded." Rexus said, "And if so, what's a little money under the table?" He asked, a grin forming on his mouth.

The reaction from the man's compatriots was a little mixed. Redmond Diggory bit first. "These are Mandolorians Rexus," The former med student began, "They're savages." He continued, "And given the state of this backwater, whose to say they have any money in the first place?" He asked, "Does this place look like it's got any money?"

He was immediately retorted by the ever loyal and brutal Dergan Twigg, "They might not pay us for fighting," The dullard began, "But this Monroe lady, she sounds like she'd 'ave quite the bounty on her." He paused, "Or she may pay a karkload to have people on 'er side."

"I don't think we should be here." May, the youngest and most inexperienced stormtrooper began. "It's one thing to do bodyguard work in the Core worlds, it's another thing entirely to just fight a war here." She said, "And like Doc says, these guys are spoiling for a fight, it's gonna get real nasty here. I say we leave."

Rexus considered the opinion for a moment, "We're stormtroopers though." He began, "The toughest fighters and warriors in the Galaxy." He paused, "We karked the Alliance, countless times, what's another bunch of bucket heads?" He asked, a smirk coming over his scarred face. "Let's take a vote here and now." He began, "Should we leave this dustball and find finer prospects elsewhere, or do we stay and make a profit." He paused, "Ayes first."

Rexus, Twigg, Vera Shannersy and Tomas Heralt all raised their hands. "Looks like the ayes have it." Rexus mused, standing up, and brushing crumbs from the front of his leather jacket. "I'm gonna see what I can find out on the street. Rest of you lot, grab your things, and get yourselves ready, alright?"

There was a murmur of acknowledgement, as Rexus walked from the veranda, and down through the cantina. It was thick with smoke, but its occupants were leaving in droves. Wenck followed them out, onto the streets, and approached a member of Death Watch, attired fully in Beskar'gam. The former stormtrooper captain opted for the formal approach, "'Scuse me!" He said, "But I was, uh wondering if, you could shed more light on what's going on."

 

[Vilaz Munin]

Ciryc Gar Oriya

The blood of Mandalore was perhaps one of the many things Mia and her diseased followers needed for the schism, but so did Ra and his disciples. The main goal for Death Watch was to capture Monroe and execute her along with her subjects but if this civil war was to last for some time, then they needed supplies, weapons, technology, all kinds of assets that would support them in this conflict.

And a good way to knock out a few birds with one stone was what Vilaz had his eyes set on.

Ciryc Gar Oriya.

The Cold Iron North.

It still remains as a major point of interest for all Mandalorians, whether they were Death Watch or not. The Burning Mandalore did some damage to the place, but it was still useful and good in conditions. It would be a grand place for a Death Watch base, and a good stronghold for Monroe. Munin warriors mixed with other soldiers of different clans (yet a majority were Munin clansmen) deployed themselves several dropships above the location and used the jetpack to help them travel the rest of the flight to the ground. Arriving on the icy earth, the Concordian and his men began aim their weapons at those that took sanctuary at this place and began to spread out in unified platoons to search out the area.

"No mercy to any hostile action. You either kill them or cripple them. Report to me whatever findings you find," the former Mand'alor said in the encrypted channel as he and his men, with his beloved wife, [member="Briika Tor"], made way to the sole entrance of the Ge'tal Mine.

"Ready, men," the warrior said and was given affirmative responses.

"Stay near me, cyar'ika. And don't worry, I'm not gonna go all overprotective on you," the Mandalorian said to his soulmate in their own private channel.

 

[Goran]

You wouldn't think an astromech droid would look out of place on any civilized world.

Though they were more common in and around spaceports, the droids were damnably useful in just about any application one cared to name. So, in any crowded city on any world of a certain tech base, one could always expect to see a few scurrying about from place to place, doing Force knows what.

Keldabe, however, stretched the definition of "civilized" to the breaking point. Really, really stretched it. Though someone had, at some point in the distant past, decided that the roads were worth paving, many parts of the city were still all but impassable to the average astromech. And the less said about the parts paved with cobblestone, the better.

Secretly, Goran suspected that the cobblestone bits had been built so the city's occupants would always have something handy to throw at any streetcorner rabble rousers that happened to get on their nerves. Mandalorians were a practical bunch, after all. Maybe that was why it was drawn to them so.

The little Shard had been a great many things over the centuries. At one point, it had been an Iron Knight, a powerful warrior who had stood proud against the invading hordes as Orax fell. It had spent a few decades as a smuggler, its inoffensive astromech shell the perfect cover for sneaking past customs. It had once, disastrously, tried its wholly metaphorical hand at being a Jedi, and even more disastrously, as a Sith. None of the popular Force user ideologies really appealed to it. It had a hard time wrapping its crystalline mind around the concepts of Light and Dark.

As far as it was concerned, all being a Jedi or Sith amounted to was declaring that a rose smelled better than cabbage, and would therefore make a better soup.

Mandalorians, on the other hand, were perfectly content to use cabbage in their soup, so the little Shard couldn't help but feel at home in their ranks.

There was just one problem. It was, technically, a Force user. The skills had atrophied from years of disuse, to the point where it barely felt it anymore. Force use among Mandalorians was one of those things that fell in and out of fashion. Sometimes, they were cool with it, and actively recruited Forcies into their ranks. Sometimes, they weren't, and purged them.

The soldiers that poured into the city practically reeked of Death Watch. Death Watch, in most of its guises, tended to do the purging. Or at the very least, they were less than friendly to anyone who called the Force an ally. Goran didn't call the Force an ally, more of a useful tool on occasion, but it could use it. Therefore, it was a Force user. This wasn't widely known, but if the Death Watch had some kind of database, it might be in trouble.

There was no point in trying to hide or pretend to be a normal astromech. Even if normal astromechs were common in Keldabe, you didn't typically see them with all terrain tires. Or, for that matter, a pair of RCFC's ER-1 rifles bolted to their domes, modified to be fed from the Shard's internal magazines.

If they had a database, and were out to pot the occasional Forcie while looking for this Monroe character, things could get dicey. If not, the little Shard was content to leave them to their business. And since a squad of them had just walked around the corner, well, it was about to find out one way or another whether or not it was time to leave Mando space for a while.

[member="Ra Vizsla"]

 

[Strider Garon]

MandalMotor's HQ


The troop carrier shook in the turbulence, beskar pauldrons and shoulder plates scraped against each other giving off a metalic echo with in her hold. There were twelve of some of the deadliest beings alive standing, hands gripped on the old bar above as their craft creased across the mandalorian skies. The bay doors were open and all could see the ruin landscape below zipp pass as their pilot kept course towards Mandal Motors. They were the Tal'rekr, the blood wolves a newly formed unit of death watch supercommandos under the command of Strider Garon.

The old man gazed upon all the T-Visored warriors before him. He was personally going to lead them into their first mission. For some, this was the first time they had fought side by side with the legendary soldier, for others this was just another day in the office. But, this being a new unit and this being their first mission together as a whole there was bound to be some kinks to work out. Hadn't had the time to properly drill them all into a fine precision tool of war, parts all moving in unison and greased to perfection. This was to be the first blood letting, christening of the squad..... casualties were expected and that was the cost of war.

"30 seconds to target!" The pilot would announce over their squad channel

"Listen to me vode!" Strider's voice rasped over the comms, it was once a deep resonating voice that boomed thunder and now etched with defect and wound. Cost of war, his body was littered with scars, a bible holding testament to the horrific violence he had endured over the decades. "War is cruelty. there is no use trying to reform it. the crueler it is, the sooner it will be over. We are about to engage fellow mando'ade, they will be clad in beskar just the same as us, talk like us and fight like us. But they are not your brothers, they are the enemy. I want nothing less than unhesitating and merciless grotesque violence from the lot of ya!"

"Jate'shya at ramaanar ui at cuyir a hut'uun!" He preached in their native tongue, Better to die than to be a coward, the motto of the blood wolves.

The Tal'rekr were tasked with breaching Mandalmotors from the roof, the transport would insert them topside and from there they would clear each level, killing all those that stood in their way.

 

[Riggs]

LOCATION: In route/on rooftop of Mandal Motors HQ

Keldabe still lay in ruin. The rebuilding process had begun but they were still light years away from having the city rebuilt the way it once had been. Homes and establishments had been raised once more and any other time it would have caused a small leap of joy in the man's heart. But not today. Not since his world was washed with flame. Not since Sera ....

The Mandalorian clenched his fist inside the crush gaunts. But it wasn't his fist anymore. Or maybe it was.

Squatting on the roof of one of the erected bars that dotted the landscape once more he scanned the horizon bathed in moonlight. The Mandal Motors HQ lay to the north of his location where a large contingent force was preparing to storm the building in the morning. It was his next stop. But first he, along with four other Death Watch soldiers had a visit to make.

Leaping from the roof he landed lightly upon the ground, his jet pack igniting for a split second to slow his descent. Rearing back his right leg lashed out against the door, splintering the heavy wood and sending portions flying into the bar where a man was stacking chairs around the room.

Striding in, the moonlight glinted off the black and gold armor. The man turned to run, but was thrown against the bar with such force that several glasses tumbled from their shelves on the back wall to shatter on the ground. A larger caliber slug to the shoulder would do that to you.

Marching over to the man he pressed the muzzle of the slug thrower against the bartender's cheek, the heat from the barrel searing the sensitive skin. As the other four spread out a woman ran from the back and was caught between two of his comrades. A rage distorted voice echoed from the external speakers as Marev spoke. "You are guilty of harboring the fugitive Mia Monroe, of supporting a false Mand'alor, of treason against our people and culture by rallying to her cause. You have one chance. Tell me where she is and you and your woman will be exiled and marked as dar'manda. Refuse and you won't see the sun rise, not on this world or any other."

The man was shaking in fear. But he had the sack to turn his face into the barrel and say, "Long live the Liberator." He had guts, no brains though. The blast removed the majority of his skull, brain matter scattered across the bar which gave evidence that he did, indeed, have a brain. But little use it was to the dead man.

The woman screamed as he approached and grabbed her by the throat, the other soldiers releasing their hold. "I want the witch. I don't care that the file said you are one of them. Same rules, talk and live. Refuse and ... I think you get the picture."

She spat onto Marev's T-visor. A grim set of his jaw and he squeezed. Squeezed until she couldn't breathe. Squeezed until the blood vessels in her eyes burst coloring the whites red. Squeezed until he felt the wind pipe give under the pressure. Squeezed until he felt and heard the sound of her neck snapping.

Dropping the lifeless body he looked around before giving the order, "Burn it to the ground." Walking from the building he moved toward the staging area where he was assigned.

Today was a new day for Mandalore. It was the Day of Reckoning. And woe to any who stood in their way.

A short time later ​

He stood with his vode of the new unit. Strider was calling out words to rouse, words of caution, words of their motto. He nodded in his buy'ce and clicked good com just as the others did, several beating their armored chest lightly with their fists.

Turning his head he watched as the rooftop neared, their destination. He had situated himself at the open doors of the hold to be one of the first to disembark. As the ship lowered he leapt, bending his knees to absorb the shock of landing. He had chosen one of the building's air conditioner units. The weight of the armored mando'ad bucked the light metal under his beskar boots.

Rifle was up, the butt against his shoulder, as he scanned the rooftop from his lofty view point. He would provide any cover fire while the rest of the unit made the transition from ship to roof.

[member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Kad Tor]

Location: Rooftop MandalMotors

Kad Tor had known the Hound of Keldabe for twelve years and in that time he had fought beside him on only a handful of occasions. Today was the first day he could say he was fighting beside the old man because he was asked to. This was not the kind of war they were used to fighting. Brother against Brother was not the Mandalorian way, but that all changed when the so called Liberator decided she would, along with a handful of other aruetii destroy the world they called home and murder countless lives. All for what, a fresh start, a clean slate. Kad clenched his grip around the old bar above his head harder at the thought.

All attention was on their leader for this mission. Strider was imposing. There was nothing pure about him, and he reeked of death, because he had cheated it and dealt it equally. If there was one person you wanted on your side, it was him. Kad feared anyone who found themselves on the wrong end of his weapon.

"Better to die than to be a coward." The motto rang in Kad's ears as his mind replayed the moment he told his Lioness [member="Artemis Lux"] what he had learned about the Liberator and the return of ]Mand'alor the Undying. Courage had led to keeping Dxun as a refuge, their sanctuary from the fighting, but they would fight. Kad had been called upon, and he could not refuse.

"5 seconds, 4... 3... 2... 1..."

With a loud, [ "OYA" ] Kad leapt from the drop ship platform onto the roof of the building. The strike team which had been focused on the ground was large enough to serve as a decent distraction for the smaller team coming in from the roof. Only the end of the battle would determine if this plan was true, but Kad did not doubt it.

Boots hit the ground with a loud thud, and he wasted no time as two more commandos landed with him as cover. Kad took to work at setting the charges in a large enough circle that several would be able to enter at once. The falling debris would be enough to kill anyone unfortunate to be underneath it, even if they were in full armor. With a grin, Kad looked around before bringing his thumb to the remote detonator.

[ "P is for plenty," ] he said as he waited for everyone to get into position before blowing a massive hole in the roof.

[member="Strider Garon"] | [member="Marev Priest"]​

 

[Kiegan Lysle]

MandalMotors HQ
[member="Kad Tor"] | [member="Marev Priest"]

Hard metal pauldrons struck the Gurlanin's meagerly covered shoulders, the turbulence smashing the shoulders of the men beside him into his. Unlike the other men in this commando force Tahn had no heavy armour yet, no Beskar'gam to call his own. Most Mandalorians craft themselves a traditional Mandalorian suit created from one of the strongest materials in the galaxy, but Tahn refused to gain something without having earned it yet. Despite his age, he was still a whelp in the eyes of the Mandalorians around him and felt he hadn't yet earned his right to wear a Beskar'gam. So here he sat, with bruising shoulders and worn down armour that he had worn since before he left his planet.

"30 seconds to target!" But that voice told him that his opportunity to fight along Death Watch was coming, [member="Strider Garon"]'s speech told him that he was about to prove himself. And so the Golden Wolf waited in anticipation holding tightly onto the axe that he favoured as his weapon, foot tapping the ground rapidly as the anticipation for what was to come ate at him.

Mandalore would again rise from the ashes as it has so many times before, but this time they would forcibly remove the cancer that is weakness from their own ranks. Beginning with the removal of those that depended on magic in order to survive combat, those that tricked themselves into believing that the force would help them become Mandalorians instead of weaken what it meant. Because that is what those who depend on the force truly are, weak. No warrior should ever have to depend on anything except themselves and the allowance of these individuals into the Crusaders is what doomed it from the start.

But even the wolf himself couldn't trick himself into believing that this was all some Mandalorian fervour about honour and restoring his people. No all Tahn cared about was strength and killing. That's why he resurfaced from his mercenary career when the old iron wolf seemingly came back from the dead, Tahn knew who the strongest Mand'alor was and who he had to follow in order to gain the most. It was the Iron Wolf that led Tahn to Clan Vizsla originally, if one of his own people could find companionship among the Mandalorians then Tahn could as well.

Strength was the only thing that Tahn cared about in who he follows; not compassion, or power with the force, or all those other things that made weak leaders appear strong to fools. And Tahn readied to show his strength to his fellow squad mates, the taste of blood already on his breath.

 

[Sal Katarn]

Keldabe

Amid the warriors stood a figure clad head-to-toe in sable beskar'kandar. He carried no blaster, though an energy bow lay slung across his back. Twin beskads sat at his hips, their wicked curves hidden by sheathes of black leather. Kelborn idly adjusted a gauntlet, watching the carnage. Many fell to looting. Made sense. Nevermind that they were all Mandalorians, there was money to be had.

Tossing a house for hidden plunder seemed like a lot of work. Still... wasn't there a jeweler who lived on this street?

A voice drew his attention.

Kade turned and saw a man approaching. The black helm tilted down, taking in the lack of iron skin.

Going on...

Kelborn snorted and pointed skyward as a dropship roared overhead.

"What does it look like?"

He made a shooing gesture. "Get lost, aruetii, before you get yourself hurt."

[member="Rexus Wenck"]

 

[HK-36]

HK crouched on one of the buildings still remaining somewhat standing in the scarred city of Keldabe, perching on its rooftop wrapped tightly in his dark and heavy chameleon cloak, using its special properties to remain hidden, an unseen spectator, at least as long as the machine decided to not get involved in the affairs of Death Watch and Mandalorians. Of course this blissful state of not being in the middle of the whole mess would not last forever, it was not HK's nature to pass upon chance for meddling in organic affairs.

As his photoreceptors scanned over the scene and took in the sight of carnage and devastation, illuminated by the faint glow of some buildings in the already ruined city burning below him, such as the bar [member="Marev Priest"] put to the torch, it shouldn't be too much of a leap to assume that some of his comrades probably used similar tactics. As the screams and war cries echoed out from the buildings and streets below, all pierced from time to time by a gun or blaster shot, the sound of doors or windows shattering apart, or just a miscellaneous crash or explosion, HK activated his built-in comm systems, sending out a transmission to [member="Cassius Vhette"], a Mandalorian he spoke with fairly recently on the subject of humanitarian aid to those Mandalorians who just found themselves trapped in the civil war between Death Watch and Mia's Mandalorians.

"Death Watch made the first move, they are raiding Keldabe, Sundari, and Ciryc Gar Oriya. Some of the buildings are being torched, there are executions carried out as they claim to be enforcing martial law. Whatever you have prepared, whether you are ready or not, now is the time to act."

HK informed his contact,

"We need to get as many civilians out of there as we can before there will not be any Mando'ad to rule over once this war is done."

The droid found himself to be a strange presence in the conflict so far, some did not saw him as a Mandalorian, for how could one become part of the Manda after death if they did not have a soul to begin with, but the way HK understood if he followed the Resol'nare and Mandalorian laws then in the end he would not die as a dar'manda, if he would choose to die one day that is. Either way, opinions of others never really stopped him from interfering with their plans, so when Mia called for her assembly, the droid showed up there as part of the group to arrest her and bring her to justice. In the end the machine temporary helped her, protecting her from her attackers as he deemed executing a pregnant woman to be against the Canons of Honor, deciding to refrain until her child was out of its womb before attempting to kill her as well.

One was not sure how that whole situation ended but presumable Mia survived the encounter and the droid was far from her supporter, at least until she remained without facing consequences of her actions, but just the same he would not help the Death Watch, not when they left so much collateral damage in their wake.

 

[Silas Mantis]

MandalMotors

In a streak of what he hoped wasn't going to be regrettable decisions, Silas had allowed [member="Yasha Mantis"] to follow along with him into the fires of war. The girl had survived the Netherworld and the burning of Mandalore, she could handle a few dar'manda. Loaded for bear with an arsenal of blasters in addition to both his daggers, including the one that served as a defunct tribute to the assumed dead Mantis now accompanying him.

When [member="Strider Garon"] spoke, Silas couldn't stop himself but smirk, Strider had been there for Silas' first battle, before he'd gotten aboard the mission to rescue Preliat. He'd been right there beside Silas as he took his first life in combat, it was a proud moment, and ever since the man hadn't failed to earn his respect. Hopefully this mission would be a source of pride for his niece, avenging her mother would ease the pain. It always helped to feel like one was actually doing something about a loss, he'd made a knife and cut his way through untold numbers of criminals with it trying to deduce who bombed Mandalore.

Made a friend too.

"Stay close ad'ika, and go for the legs." He instructed his niece as he scooped up the Little Wolf and made the leap from the ship to the roof. Landing with a soft thud next to [member="Kad Tor"], expecting [member="Tahn Vizsla"] to be there soon after whilst [member="Marev Priest"] provided cover. There were others, he just hadn't caught names yet, but he'd know what to call all his vode by the time all was said and done. Setting Yasha down he looked to Kad and gave him a nod.

The wolves had come for the Liberator, and if all went as planned she'd soon be out of places to run.

 

[Miss Blonde]

[media] https://youtu.be/iktRxUF6qQ0 [/media]​

Miss Blonde stood there. She watched as the galaxy unraveled itself one moment at a time. Civil war, religious war, ideological war based on fictional morality. All of it contributed to the cycle of death and destruction that was nigh impossible to escape from. No matter how unimportant her nihilism made any situation feel, this was personal for the retired crime lord. [member="Mia Monroe"] had killed Isley Verd. ( [member="Darth Metus"] ) Her friend, her mentor, the man she owed her entire legacy to. Sure he wasn't the best of bosses every now and then, but he was HER friend. He was the only man in this galaxy that could order her around, and now he was gone forever. So that, that was something that no amount of universal meaningless could ever forgive or call unimportant.

Death Watch had begun its assault on Mandalore and [member="Ra Vizsla"] seemed to be leading them. Feth, no one ever stayed dead in this galaxy. But that wasn't a bad thing in this moment, in fact with a warrior of his caliber the odds of defeating and slaying Mia was drastically increased. And if he or whoever else plunged the blade into that woman's heart, then they would find themselves sitting pretty with a grand fortune of drug and blood money provided by yours truly. A insane amount of wealth collected over a long career of murder and immoral vices. A billion credits, a personal fleet, and a their own planet.

Though in self reflection, Blonde was no worse than Mia. She had killed families. Men, women, children, entire bloodlines snuffed out by her disregard for life. The only difference between the women was that while Mia killed for some false idea of honor or springing new life from the ashes. Blonde killed for money. She killed for power. She killed just because it made her feel good. That life was truly meaningless and that bad people like her could get away with nerve gassing crowds of people with zero repercussions. It was almost sad that she was the guiding sense of morality in this galaxy to incentivize those to end a planet killing monster.

So from her screen in her home on an unknown planet, Blonde continued to watch the events go down from the few holonet cams and drones she had sent to capture and document what was happening. From the ashes the Mandalorians would rise once again. The Clans, The Mandalorian Empire, Death Watch, The Mando'ade. All of it was one long journey for a displaced people stuck in a loop of death, battle, and revival. She almost felt sorry for them.

"You killed my friend, Mia. You took something from me, and now I'm going to help take everything from you. Your children. Your blood. Your life. All of it will be end." Blonde then sat down in her comfortable plush red recliner and fantasized being there on Mandalore and fighting Mia herself.

But life always had other plans. The warm glow of a screen reflected the events in front of her mask instead.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Hell was no deterrent for [member="Preliat Mantis"]' little girl. Hell itself could not hold her in its' thrall. Kashyyk could not withstand her, even if the child mistook Wookies for Ewoks until her immediate education. The razing of Manda'yaim could not end her.





Yasha Mantis was alive, and her mother wasn't. The tether holding Yasha to stories of good things was gone. Aditya fought through hell to get her daughter back to Mandalore. She tore at anything that moved, stayed hidden for days, telling her daughter of the glories of Mandalore. On Mandalore they would be safe. On Mandalore Yasha would learn the resol'nare. On Mandalore, her father Preliat would smile again. On Mandalore, her baby brother would be born.





Mandalore laid burning, another belly-swollen body thrown on the pyre. [member="Preliat Mantis"] didn't accept her reality. She must not have kept her mother safe enough. Yasha wouldn't lose uncle [member="Silas Mantis"], too. Yasha would prove to her Buir that she was a true daughter of Clan Mantis, that she was as alive as a Mando'adika could be. Preliat's daughter's eyes were covered with the prismatic goggles her mother made to block out light. The device acted as a comm, a locator for the girl on her parents' beskar'gam, an HUD. It was sufficient to keep her tears from streaking down her cheeks like stains. At times it was hard to picture Yasha in hell. The girl knew what a smile was, she read picture books and played with her pet vornskyr outside. Today no smile pulled on the young girl's cheeks. There was no vornskyr waiting to cuddle up with her and guard the nightmares away. There was no 'outside' of the Mantis Estate. There was the scent of death, the taste of blood, the vode. Her white teeth showed under a snarling lip. She hugged into Silas' chest plate as he jumped with her. The echo of violence on her lip dwindled for the thrill of momentary flight. Maybe if she was extra good in this battle, Uncle Silas would take her for a flight as a reward. Still, the child remained silent. Her goggle-covered gaze shifted from Silas to [member="Kad Tor"]. This was vod. Kad Tor would be worth keeping. Another shield in case she lost her cover or had to run.





Yasha unbuckled her tomahawk from its' sheath. Pulled it free so the handle made no noise on the leather. She unsheathed the beskad strapped to her hip. Her mother's beskad, a fitting parting gift from the mother whose tenacity bled into her little girl. The blade pointed down and out. Breathe through her mouth so the oncoming smell didn't make her tummy gurgle. Wait for ba'vodu's signal.





"Circle behind and cut the inner thighs. The blood splashing place on the legs. Backs of their knees. Can't move without knees... armour's weaker in the back. Work my way up. Just like a terror bird or butchering a turkey." Yasha muttered to the Mando'ade around her. A grim and too familiar grimace coated the diminutive child's body as she sunk down on her haunches.





A small part of the wolf pup wanted to find [member="Preliat Mantis"] and curl up in his arms, plead for stories until she fell asleep. A small part of her wanted to cuddle somewhere, maybe at [member="Joanes Quez"]' farm, where she slept under a faded blanket which belonged to one of his daughters, before they grew up. The rest of her was buzzing.





[member="Ra Vizsla"] called for every man, woman and child. Yasha's knuckles gripped her tomahawk and beskad. She looked up at her uncle as a tear dragged under the edge of her goggles and slid down her cheek. "Gimme a target, Uncle Silas. I'll be quiet. They'll be dead. I won't let them take you, too."

 

[Rexus Wenck]

[member="Kade Kelborn"]
Rexus rolled his eyes, at the comment, but nonetheless, he persisted. "I've lived through enough invasions and wars to know how one feels." Wenck cautiously began, he flexed his mechanical arm, and gestured to the blaster in his holster, "However, the question becomes," He began, "Of how one can profit in this newly found wonderland we've found ourselves in." He paused, and looked the man dead in the eyes, or at least where they should be. "And naturally, I feel it profitable to attempt to ensure the newly found conquerors assertion of power is, uneventful."

He paused, "I run a group of mercs, war ready vets from First Order space." He paused, "Seen about a hundred combat missions, with over a thousand confirmed kills between us." He eyed the man evenly, "So, point us to where I can get some kind of contract, and me and my men will work our arses off for you and your masters."

 

[Subject 37]

Sundari Prison
[member="Atiniir Starrider"]

Aryn glanced up, his beskar claws unsheathing for just a moment as a man landed behind him with a thunk.

The greeting he gave eased some of the tension that had instantly grown within his men, some lowering their weapons and others simply pointing it away from the man. Right now Sundari was a dangerous place to be, especially for men who did not wear the sigil of Death Watch. It was near impossible to tell who was who, and something told Aryn that by the end of this there would be more unpleasant situations. The Togorian's ears twitched, his eye wandering over the man.

"Step back." He motioned to the other man as the Death Watch commando finished setting his charges.

"Security is still inside." Aryn explained to the newcomer, not wanting him to be caught by surprise at the situation at hand. Sundari was not yet entirely taken, but once they freed the prisoners he would see to that. "They have declared against Ra."

His expression soured as he stepped around the corner, and explosion sounding out just a few seconds later.

There was a heavy creaking of metal, the blast door being instantly torn to shreds by the force of the blast. Aryn flinched slightly, his ears pulling back at the sound of the blast. Smoke filled the corridor beyond the door and the slight space in front of it. Aryn scowled, motioning for the others. He stepped forward, his golden Beskar plates gleaming slightly as he moved around the corner and stepped into the corridor. Almost instantly Blsater bolts began to hail down towards him.

A growl escaped his throat, and Aryn charged forward.

 

[Atiniir Starrider]

[member="Aryn Spar"]

Atiniir did not need to be told twice. He'd breached more than a few airlocks in his time, and knew the power of the charges used for such a purpose. He stacked up with the rest of the troopers, heart beginning to pound with familiar adrenaline. This was it. The security forces inside had refused to follow Ra, had refused to surrender. According to Mand'alor's law, they were dar'manda. Be that as it may, Atiniir would not kill unless he had to. Let Vizsla beat his chest and call for the death of all who supported Monroe; he had his law, but Atiniir had his own rules.

When the door blew open, Atiniir stepped around the corner, blaster at the ready. Almost immediately he was caught in a hailstorm of blaster bolts. Most missed, but one pinged off the beskar of Atiniir's shoulder plate.

"Ok," Atiniir said to himself, rolling the shoulder in its socket to clear the brief flash of pain, "So it's gonna be like that." Yelling a Mandalorian battle cry Atiniir charged forward, HUD cutting through the smoke like a vibroblade through butter. He saw several security troopers ducked down behind a barricade fashioned out of a desk. The troopers saw him and Aryn coming and opened fire on them both, but all Atiniir did was smile. He dodged most of the blasts, and those he didn't bounced right off his solid beskar armor. There was a reason that Armor was one of the Six Tenets: nothing did a better job at keeping you alive.

Atiniir fired precision shots as he charged, nailing at least one guard in his shoulder. When he got close enough he activated his jetpack and rocketed forward arrow-straight, grabbing another guard by his helmet and pulling him into the air. He took him up several meters, then let go and, with an armored fist, punched the man downwards. The guard slammed into the ground, knocked out cold. Atiniir pulled his pistol again and, still hovering, opened fire on a third guard who scrambled for whatever cover he could find.