Faction Cold as Steel [MU/Supercommandos]

[Kreslin Westwind]

Fort Divin, the only starport on the world of Ord Antalaha was extremely busy today. Dozens of freighters were landing every hour, bringing wave after wave of goods and people to the world. Very few of those arriving came with legal intentions in mind. Fort Divin was a well know black market hub within the Colonies region of the galaxy, a stepping stone for smugglers to push into the Core, or spread out across the wider galaxy. No matter what government seemed to hold sway over the world, the criminal control returned. The black market was a trade that would always remain as long as there were nations that tried to limit the sale of good, that was a simple truth. The Mandalorian Union did not care about such things in general, except for today. Today, something far more personal to them was being traded.

During the Sith occupation of Mandalore, the world had been strip mined of its renowned Beskar. It was almost entirely gone from the northern hemisphere, and the few supplies left in the southern hemisphere had become a closely guarded commodity. The add insult to injury, the Sith had proceeded to then sell Beskar, and trade it across the galaxy. Now, there was almost as much Beskar out in the wider galaxy as there was on Mandalore itself. Word had come to the ears of several warriors within the Union that a sizable shipment of Beskar would be making its way through Fort Divin today, getting ready to be sold to several dozen different criminal groups across the galaxy eagerly looking to get their hands on the valuable material.

The Union planned to change that.

A single Kad Class Frigate appeared at the edge of Galactic Alliance space, unloading five Beviin transport vehicles from its hangars. It was a short flight to Ord Antalaha, made in almost total silence across the various transports as they approached their target. Kreslin himself had given the warriors their order before they disembarked, entrusting to them all to use their own best judgement to see results achieved. The five transports would plunge nose first at the starport, giving the smugglers and pirates in the starport and city little in the way of warning. The transports would then divide up and unload their forces in the air, each warrior using jetpacks provided before the missions start to land all around Fort Divin, and cut off the potentially escape route for anyone trying to get away with the Beskar. After that, it would be a simple extermination and retrieval. They would be supported by allied assets arriving in their own transportation.

The pod Kreslin was in began to open, the roar of air suddenly screaming into the compartment, buffering him and the other warrior inside. Each warrior wore the signet of the Supercommandos on their armor, freshly painted after their induction into the organization. This raid would be their first test, and Kreslin was eager to see them live up to his expectations. Opening a channel to the other transports, Kreslin spoke quickly as he walked to the edge of the pod. "Warriors of the Mandalorian Union, we are here to reclaim part of our peoples legacy and inheritance. Let no one stand in your way, but do not kill the innocent. Our fight is not with them." Cutting the channel, Kreslin took one step forward, and plunged through the air towards the ground below.

It was his first outing into the galaxy since becoming Mand'alor. Given all the options, he thought this was probably one of the better ways to introduce himself.

 

[Mandalorian Prophet]

It had been a long and hard road. The Sith's invasion of Mandalore had cost Cleru everything. His bride. His children. Wiped out as so many Mandalorians had been through the war. He couldn't deal with it. The Chiss who dared to hope had that hope crushed in a single night. For months he was a shell of his former self. Bars were the only place he could feel something, even if being drunk wasn't much of a feeling to begin with. And alcohol stopped the nightmares.

Not knowing how they died left him awash with the different ways they could have. Every night was the same type of dream. Seeing his Beth when they woke up together. Seeing the two children he hadn't even been able to hold. Then watching them die as his imagination went wild. Sith slaughtering them. Soldiers firing upon them. Being caught in bombardments. Bombs. The list went on and on. And so did his anger. Eventually he found something other than booze that could stop the dreams.

Vengeance.

It started with one. A no name Sith who happened to cross his path, boasting about their participation in the invasion. Cleru slept well for the first time that night. Then he started to hunt Sith. Killing them for sport as he imagined his own family had been. The wild rage evolved, getting more focused. More determined. The shell was filled with that hunger for revenge, but also to honor his wife. Honor the code she followed. That their children would have followed.

Black market contacts were something he had a number of. Working as an agent for the Chiss had him traveling throughout the galaxy to learn secrets and plots that could be a danger to the Chiss. Now he used those contacts for himself. When he learned of the shipment he knew he needed to bring that back. Beskar belonged in the hands of the Mandalorians, not some gangsters.

He'd come alone, plotting how he'd steal the cargo himself. He had the training and the skill. Once he found the location he put on the commando armor he'd been given during the initial invasions of Mandalorian space. Hit hard, hit quiet, hit quick. One last check over his gear. The Charric rifle, the silencer attachment. The fractal coating on his suit that would make it that much easier to hide. He was set to begin. Then panic set through the pirates.

Looking up he could only blink in surprise behind his helmet. No, this made sense. Beskar belonged to the Mandalorians.

Leveling his rifle his gaze turned back to the pair of guards he'd been eyeing from his makeshift cover. Two rapid shots, two bodies dropped. The least he could do is help take out the trash in the way.

Kreslin Westwind

 

[Kelborn Ordo]

New paint on his shoulder, but it was the same color his heart had always worn. New faces all around him, but they were the brothers he felt he had always known. A new organization, but for the same cause he had always held dear.

Kelborn Ordo was among his brothers, and prepared to fight and die with them if it meant the galaxy knew to fear the Mandalorians once again.

The aged brigand scholar was silent for the duration of the drop, save for the traditional battle chant that was shared immediately before loading onto the ships. Dark visor angled downwards, he stood still as a statue, priming his mind for the coming events, his body and equipment already maintained in excellent condition. He did not rush for the doors when they opened, instead allowing his brethren to pass them unimpeded before he stormed to the edge and tipped over it, the last weight on the tip of his toes. For a moment, he was in freefall, then the crisp whump of the activating rockets hit his ears and he was speeding forward, lateral to the ground, on a soft downward trajectory. The men who had gone first had already engaged resistance, but he sought to head off additional responders if he could. No reason to allow the enemy to organize.

Kelborn's feet met the chest of a caravan guard before they touched the ground of the planet, even as he threw a detonator onto a nearby stack of crates. No less than six men accompanied that first poor soul to fall, and they set to action at once, counterattacking against their surprise assailant. Kelborn dodged out of the way of a hail of blaster fire, finding a stack of crates to recoup behind for a moment, just a moment. He whipped out his verpine shatter gun from over his shoulder and wheeled around from behind his cover to send a spray of solid projectiles out at the guards. One pellet smashed into the chest of a guard while the others caused enough chaos on surrounding walls and crates to drive the others to cover. A gout of flame from his gauntlet served to keep all but one man behind said cover as the black and gold clad warrior drew his Westar pistol. The brave soul standing from cover didn't have a hope. He was gunned down before he could pull the trigger on his rifle.

The flamethrower spent its fuel cell and Kelborn was forced to tuck and roll out of the open as another hail of energized bolts flashed by. He rolled right to the feet of one of the remaining men and spun his legs under him, catching him on a vibroblade as he hit the ground. Next, the Mandalorian was on his knees and sending out a grapple line to catch the weapon of the next man closest to him. The man was foolish enough to go after his weapon, and so his forehead met the front of Kelborn's helmet with a sickening crack. The final two men had moved back and kept up such a fire that no one could safely cross the distance in front of them. It was then that Kelborn touched a control on his gauntlet and the detonator he had thrown at the outset of the combat exploded. The men had taken cover at that exact spot and were vaporized. Kelborn rose from cover, loaded another cannister of shot into his shatter gun, and moved to regroup with his brethren.

 

[River Kryze]

Space.

The final frontier.

Also the only place that River felt somewhat at home with, well aside from being planet side on Mandalore. Of course, the former mother had seen action. She fought Ewoks on Endor, and had pulled Aloy to safety when she literally broke her leg. However, aside from that she hadn't had a good experience to test herself as a warrior. Not really. When word came around that they were launching a raid, and that Mand'alor himself would be leading it, well, she couldn't help but sign herself up. Aloy had told her many a times that she was already a Mandalorian, that she was worthy of wearing the armor, shedding her blood in battle with the rest of the 'Vod'; she was still getting accustomed to using that term.

Her understanding of Beskar was another point in which she was trying to better understand. It was by far the most valuable resource for the warriors of Mandalore, aside from water and food; though she was willing to bet some of warriors placed it even higher than that. Regardless, trying to secure access to the material would have meant great things for the Union as a whole, not to mention a bit of a morale boost for Kreslin and his people. He seemed a good man, troubled, perhaps weighted down by the monstrous amounts of pressure laid upon him, but noble above all else. Clearly, the level headed sort that she was willing to back; well, as far as Mandalorians went after all. Sitting within the confines of the drop-ship, she could only ponder to herself about what she might experience, and if she was going to make it out of this alive. A disturbing thought came from her mind however as she pondered, as she found herself uncaring about what her fate might be.

Perhaps it was fitting. After all, what was keeping her going? Truthfully, she couldn't say. Maybe all that was left of her was revenge. Who would she get revenge on? Well, she didn't know that either. All she did know, was the moment she stepped off this drop-ship, things were going to get messy and quick. Feeling the shuttle's descent slow, River felt the time to strike was now. Looking to the rest of the occupants in the drop-ship, it seemed they all had similar thoughts.

Kreslin Westwind Cynthia Solus Kelborn Ordo Cleru

 

[Cynthia Solus]

The M30-S Krayt Gunship left hyperspace alongside the Kad-Class freighter and fell in line with the transports. Cynthia stood there in the doorway of the cockpit clad in her red bes'kargam with gold decorating it. Her orange visor would reflect anything she faced. The cape that usually would flow behind her had been bundled to one side making the newest mandalorian jetpack visible the one she wore however was exclusive to Clan Solus. The jetpack itself matched with the colours of Clan solus. "Time to let all the others know where here Alor." Delphine said looking to Cynthia from the cockpit seat. "Will do, once its time green light us. I will com you when it is time for pick up. other than than escort the other transports." The woman would turn back around in her seat giving a casual salute to Cynthia's instructions.

She had faith in Rava and Delphine and had served many operations with the pair. Some had been fairly dicey. Cynthia turned around and walked to the bay where others was already prepared for the mission. "Okay vod we are on approach, once in line with our target we will be going down the rest of the way by jetpack. We are not sure if we will get a welcome party so be prepared for anything. Everyone already has their assignments, once its time to load up the haul I want all hands on. Jaick this is your first real operation like training you will be my shadow, I need your eyes and weapon ready. River Kryze you are with us too. I heard this is your first op so we will be watching your back."

Just as she had finished the message came in from the new Mand'alor, she still felt distasteful about it. To her the wounds of loosing Yasha was still fresh. Mand'alor the infernal was Cynthia's Mand'alor, there was no replacing her and no one would fill the shoes that she wore. Still Cynthia may not follow the new one truly but she had vowed time and time again she will do anything for her people. "You heard Kreslin no innocent kills."

As the light turned green the ramp lowered sending the whole room loud with the sound of thrusters. "GO GO GO." Cynthia would jump out first Jaick Solus behind her then others. The woman allowed herself to fall for a moment to allow space between the others before coned flames erupted from the jetpack. She was still adjusting to the massive amounts of speeds the jetpack was able to kick out and took no time falling into formation.

Cleru Kreslin Westwind Kelborn Ordo

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

Beskar, the material that made up many mandalorians armor, a material that had been stolen from their planet and just simply sold around the galaxy like some common material. So when this little mission was being put together stardust wasted no time signing on alongside her riduur Cynthia Solus . Eagwrmy gathering her weapons as she felt her mindset cha hing to hear those loud war drums beat in her ear making a grin form upon her face as she inhaled and exhaled to keep herself calm for the moment and build up that rage she would unleash upon any who dared stop her from retrieving the beskar.

Adjusting the new addition to her armor she grunted a bit, she wasn't used to having a jetpack on she preferred a low close approach and a drop from the ship onto her target...but for this and mostly because it was the clans new jetpack she would give it a chance. Standing about and over some she listened through her comm to Kreslin Westwind as she grinned and watched the light go green on the shuttle, she started towards the ramp as she gave a grin and let a roar out as she jumped and flipped once before she righted herself, unlike the other who were flying she was letting gravity do the trick, right as the ground grew close she angled her feet down and hit the jetpack to slightly slow herself as she smacked right into a smuggler with her weapon drawn feet firmly smacking into his chest.

Standing to her full height her westar drew and she eyed the likely stunned people

if you wish to smuggle another day....stand down

 

[Velexia]

Location: Descending Into Fort Divin via Drop Pod
Tags: Kreslin Westwind River Kryze Cynthia Solus Stardust Solus Skirae

In the wake of the fall of Clan Australis, the Australis Assault Battalion IX had been renamed to the Siren Corps, an all-female formation of biosynthetic soldiers whose loyalties now lied solely with the nascent Mandalorian Union, in spite of the fact that they were a non-Mandalorian unit. Regardless, while the assimilation of many Clan Australis assets to the direct purview of the Union had represented a transition, it had not overly impacted the day-to-day operations of the Siren Corps beyond a few minor changes. The shortage of able-bodied Mandalorian fighters within the galaxy meant that the Sirens were a welcome addition, though there were some who chafed at the idea of fighting alongside non-Mandalorians, especially in an operation that was of a distinctly Mandalorian in character.

A beskar raid.

Fortunately for those Mandalorians who held reservations regarding their presence in the operation, the Sirens made up only a small percentage of the Union warriors descending on the spaceport. For her part, Velexia had boarded a drop pod along with the nine other Sirens in her squad, each woman fully caparisoned for war with armor, energy shields, support droids, and weapons. This would be her first sortie, a real test of her mettle in contrast to the many live-fire trainings and simulations she had undergone before now. Her talents as a markswoman had held up to scrutiny under both scenarios, and for that, she had been officially tasked as her squad’s sharpshooter.

In taking on such an important role, Velexia knew that her performance would ultimately contribute to the success of failure of the mission. Naturally, that realization came with a host of anxiety and disquiet, but she didn’t let her reservations sap her desire to not let her sisters down when time came for her to act on their behalf. And so, Velexia embraced her responsibility, eager to fight if not for the Mandalorians and their cause, then for her sisters in the Siren Corps.

While the ride down to the spaceport was harrowing, the confines of the pod seeming as if they would rip themselves apart at any moment given the violent shaking as the craft tore through the atmosphere, the lack of robust anti-air defenses meant that they remained unmolested during the descent. Velexia gave a sigh of relief when she felt the pod touch down, but the diminutive Arsenian didn’t waste a moment as she pulled herself out of the straps, picked up her weapons, and followed her sisters out of the pod as they moved to engage the criminal elements in the spaceport.

“Remember only to engage aggressive targets. If they choose to stand down, leave them unharmed.” Pyrene spoke over the squad’s comms. The towering Arsenian Siren Elite led the team forward, moving to link up with various friendly Mandalorian elements in order to lend them cover as they came down to the surface via jetpack or pod.

“Multiple foot mobiles, moving! Thirty meters west! All armed!” Velexia called out as she scanned across the spaceport. “They’ve spotted us!” She added.

“Weapons free!” Pyrene shouted, just as one of the gangsters opened fire at the Sirens and the Mandalorians in the area. “Check your fire, but shoot to kill!”

Spoiler: Gear and Equipment

• FAE/A-02 “Kinnara” Energized Combat Armor
  • Energy Shield
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
  • Left Gauntlet
    • Toolkit Mk II
  • Right Gauntlet
    • Toolkit Mk II
• Small Arms
  • FAE/W-01 “Attendant” Sniper Rifle
  • Hekler'Kok SMG-01
    • Hekler’Kok Polymer Cartridge Ammunition-Standard
• Melee
  • Hekler’Kok VB-01
• Grenades
  • Impact Grenade (4)

 

[Kreslin Westwind]

Kreslin crashed through the roof of a small shop near the center of the starport. The flimsy wood and straw roof shattered under his weight and momentum, crashing down around him as he deactivated his jetpack, descending the last few feet to the ground on his own. He landed firmly to the ground, his armored form making a resonating thud as he rose from his half crouch. Turning his helmeted head to the side, Kreslin stared into the eyes of the man whose shop he had just entered. The two stared at each other for several seconds, before the shop owners eyes darted underneath the counter before him. Kreslin shook his head once, hoping the man would not do it.

In a flash of motion, the shop owner dove for the weapon he apparently had underneath the counter. In the move, Kreslin caught sight of a tattoo on the back of the mans neck, displaying a bone broken in half over a stack of credits. Part of a pirate gang then, or possibly just a smuggler. Either way, he had sealed his fate. Before the shop owners hands had even cleared the counter with the blaster rifle in his hands, Kreslin had drawn and fired Oritsir, the powerful blaster sending the man flying backwards and slamming into the far wall of his shop. Kreslin stared at the smoking body for a second before turning, walking towards the entrance of the shop.

Fort Divin was in a state of utter confusion. Civilians ran in packs away from the Mandalorian warriors descending from the sky, while smugglers and pirates alike either tried to fight back, or were outright slaughtered where they stood. Out of the corner of his eye, Kreslin spotted motion and a flash of metal. Without looking, he drew the combat knife he had at his hip and plunged it backwards. The rodian that had been attempting to sneak up on the Mand'alor let out a strangled gasp of confusion and pain, dropping large metal cudgel he had been holding in his hands. Kreslin jerked the blade free from the body as it crashed to the ground, stepping out into the streets of Fort Divin.

Opening a line of communication to his forces, Kreslin began to coordinate the raiding force now that they were on the ground. "All forces, secure the exits of Fort Divin and let no one through without being searched. If they have no weapons or Beskar, let them go no matter what. I do not care about the other goods that they have here. Supercommandos, form up into squads and begin searching every warehouse in the northern sector. Clan Solus, search the south. Siren Corp, begin searching the transports and freighters that are currently on world. I want every ounce of Beskar that these criminals and scum have taken from our people to be found."

River Kryze Cynthia Solus Velexia Stardust Solus Skirae Bridger Axii Kelborn Ordo Cleru

 

[Mandalorian Prophet]

If he was going to help, he was going to help. Cleru flicked on the fractal coating of his commando armor. The last thing he wanted to do was confuse the Mandalorians mid raid about which side he was on. Not that it stopped him from taking down the unfortunate pirate that crossed his path. Bolts of Charric blue ripped through the air, seemingly source less as he migrated his way towards the one who seemed to be in charge. Close to Kreslin Westwind , though certainly not as close as the unfortunate Rodian, the Chiss let his camo drop and spoke up loud enough to be heard above the chaos.

"The Beskar has already been loaded onto their ships. I'd shut them down immediately before any can slip out in the chaos." Even as he spoke Cleru's blaster was still leveled. He was still shooting. Each shot ripping through the head of his targets. He never paused, at least not until there were no more targets in sight. "I've a tracker on the largest shipment. I was planning to hit it when they were about to take off."

 

[Bridger Axii]

Location: Fort Divin
Objective: Secure Stolen Beskar

Bridger sat patiently in the hangar of the freighter, occasionally shifting and rocking back and forth as the ship entered the lower atmosphere of the planet, the lights inside the ship flashed wildly around his transparasteel visor as the Mandalorians began to make their move. His intercom buzzed in to the sound of the Mand'alors voice, informing the troops that they were engaging the enemy. Underneath his beskar helm, a smirk grew on Bridger's face. For too long his clan lived in hiding from the Sith who devastated their homeworld. No more deathwatch, no more sith, Mandalorians would not stand another foreign power dictating their culture. The precious material to their culture and legacy now traded around like a commodity left a knot in Bridgers stomach, something he couldn't bare witness to any longer as long as he was alive. Bridger looked down to his pauldron, the Supercommando signet adorned his armor, a symbol of ferocity and loyalty to the Mandalorian way, but Bridger knew he would truly earn it today.

The reverse thrusters on the freighter shrieked as the ship slowed, hovering above a large warehouse towards the north sector of the fort. The hangar bay opened with a hiss as a dim light poured into the dark compartment, accompanied by a volley of blaster bolt fire from the ground below. Bridger charged through the opening as he plummeted to the ground below, a few blaster bolts ricocheting off his beskar armor. As he approached the ground he activated his boot thrusters giving him a secure landing. As he felt the coarse earth below him crunch underneath his boots, Bridger drew his dual DE-10 blaster pistols, quickly wasting away the three guards securing the back entrance of the warehouse. He continued the march forward, undeterred by the chaos around him. Extending his arm forward, a single wrist rocket cut through the air before penetrating the durasteel door ahead, sending it off of its hinges and leaving an opening to push in.

Entering the dark warehouse interior, the Mandalorian switched his visor to thermal, quickly taking cover behind a large cargo crate, several orbs of heat darted across his visor as bodies began to take cover, an eerie silence filled the large warehouse. Bridger only being accompanied by two other mandalorians against the countless enemies they'd soon face; he liked those odds. The silence was soon replaced with a loud scream from one of the pirates, instructing his men to open fire as a volley of blasters came hurdling towards the group. The warehouse lit up in a brilliant red as they sent their own volley of fire, Bridger quickly moving to different spots of cover as he intended to slowly push the opposition back. Nothing would stand in the way between a mandalorian and his beskar.

Warehouse Shootout Theme​

 

[River Kryze]

Kreslin Westwind Cynthia Solus Kelborn Ordo Cleru Stardust Solus Skirae Velexia Bridger Axii

Looking to the rest of the Mandalorians in her pod, River could only feel a bit of relief knowing she wasn't going in with a bunch of green backs. It seemed she was surrounded by veterans if nothing else. As Cynthia and Star leapt from the drop-ship, the Corellian woman was next in line, as she leapt from the ship, plummeting down with the rest of her squad. Breaking through the clouds, she could see several other squads landing, some of which were already moving to secure the land down below; which reminded the woman that it was time to turn her pack on.

The thrust from her jetpack jerked her head back, the sudden force throwing her a bit out of the moment, as she straightened her back, feeling the g's of her fall start to press down on her, the ground quickly approaching as River braced for a sudden impact. To her surprise, that wasn't at all what happened, her pack having slowed her enough that she began to slow, before gingerly lingering over the ground. Cutting the fuel to the pack, she touched down, drawing her rifle as she looked for a target. It was then she heard Kreslin speaking, calling orders as groups of Commandos began to group up and move as single units, leaving River a tad confused as what to do. Looking for the familiar colored forms that she had dropped down with, River rushed to Cynthia's side, hoping to not miss out on what was to come next. They had come here for Beskar after all, they probably wouldn't be leaving until they had it. "Right, so where do we start looking?" She inquired, rifle still sweeping around for a target, as River hadn't a clue in what she was doing.

 

[Cynthia Solus]

The pack was more than enough to slow her down for a steady landing. Dust kicked up high and even more when Jaick landed. "Copy that Kres." Cynthia said in reply to the order. As the others landed around her Cynthia would see River fall in and she would becon the others to do the same. "Our orders are to move to the southern district. We will split into two groups. River, Jaick you two will stay with me I am sure I saw some sort of administration buildings so that will be our main priority. The rest of you I want you to move onto warehouses, Clear them of beskar mark the boxes and prep them for transportation. These are your orders"

With her sniper in hand she began to move. Civillian's ran to their homes or for any cover away from the mandalorians. Blaster fire could be heard across the city. "Cynthia there is a small group of six coming this way from an alleyway down to the right." Ca said keeping Cynthia aware of the whereabouts of people in the imitate vicinity. "Take cover six people on the right." She would relay to the other two as she crouched aiming down sights. As the group came around the corner she could see the blasters, and they could see her. "THERE'S ONE BLAST THEM!" One shouted as red bolts flew her way. A squeeze of the trigger a round would launch out silently exploding a head in a fiery blaze with flesh mixed in. Jaick would peek from cover sending volleys towards the group marking one in the shoulder and neck.

River Kryze Stardust Solus Skirae Kreslin Westwind Bridger Axii Cleru Velexia Kelborn Ordo

 

[Marimax Mortui]

Fingers began to twitch, aching to feel them wrapped around his weapons. The descent was slowly nerve wrecking, but the dark skinned Mando needed to practice patience; a feat nigh less successful since he decided to swap life over alcohol. A rumble, and he gripped his weapons tight.

"Why so nervous," a deep throated voice spoke from the shadows, "This is a simple dig and go."
A simple dig and go meant a quick snatch of Beskar, something he found religiously disrespectful.

"I hate flying," Miramax lied. The rest of the pirate brigands began to laugh and scoff toward his fears. For Miramax, he remained stone faced. He could read their eagerness in the body language as the drop ship drew closer and closer.

"Everyone on their feet....now," ordered the man in charge, "But be careful, blokes. There are Mandos about and we know how we feel about them, boys."

"These are Mandos, fresh fish.....nobody in the galaxy cares about them, their culture, or their heritage," the boss said; garnering laughter among the other pirates. Nodding his head, whilst checking his weapons for precision and accuracy,

"And I'm sure they feel violated by these transgressions of cultural thievery," Miramax said standing up. Everyone turned their eyes toward him. "Speaking as a Mando....I feel transgressed!" And quickly, Miramax had to land the ship solo.