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Faction Escape from Mytus VII | Iron Covenant


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ESCAPE FROM MYTUS VII

Mytus VII is a desolate asteroid on the edge of Wild Space, utterly unremarkable, but for the forty-story facility known as Star's End. Once run by a corporate hegemony, now the facility is under the purview of the Dark Collective, a group rumored to have ties to the Sith. Heavily fortified and heavily guarded, Star's End is home to thousands of criminals, scoundrels, and political dissidents.

But some of them don’t belong. Among them is Juno Wren, a hardened Mandalorian bounty hunter, and Sōla Taan, a world-weary Jedi foundling. Wrongfully imprisoned and all but forgotten by the galaxy, the two unlikely allies have managed a nearly impossible feat: They managed to broadcast a message.

And the Iron Enclave heard them.
 
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JUNO WREN
Star’s End | Mytus VII | Cell 447-L34
TAG: Siv Dragr Siv Dragr Jaikell Wyrvhor Jaikell Wyrvhor Sōla Taan Sōla Taan Baal’ik Yautja Baal’ik Yautja

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Juno wiped a spot of blood from her helmet. It was the only piece of her armor she had left— only she could undo the mechanism that sealed it to her head. ”Think anybody got our message?”

She turned to the cell’s other occupant. Sōla Taan, a girl about a decade her junior with eyes that were far too old.

They hadn’t been cellmates, originally. Every prisoner of Star’s End had been kept in stasis, separate and asleep. But six months ago, everything changed. The stasis pods shut off. The cell doors opened. And hell was unleashed.

The prisoners had free rein of the upper floors, and the biological guards kept to the lower levels, twiddling their thumbs while prisoners were murdered left and right. They only had to deal with droids, and they were easily fooled. Well, them and the other prisoners.

It had taken the two of them six months to gather the components to build a transmitter and make a back door through the communications array to send out a message. Six long, violent months. She’d lost count of the number of fights. She hadn’t lost a single one, nor had Sōla. Things had settled for now, but the place was a powder keg, and any small thing could set it off.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been here, before the stasis was lifted. Years, at least. “And watch out for Baal’ik. Word is he’s still got it out for you. How’d you manage to beat him with the dampeners on?”



 
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SŌLA TAAN-KRAYT
Mytus VII | Star’s End | Cell 447-L34
TAG: Siv Dragr Siv Dragr Jaikell Wyrvhor Jaikell Wyrvhor Juno Wren Juno Wren Baal’ik Yautja Baal’ik Yautja

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”I believe someone heard us…” but I don’t know if help is coming.

Once upon a time, she might’ve been able to reach into the Force and catch a glimpse of her future, but with her abilities dampened by the shackles about her wrists, searching out the future was a lesson in futility. But she still had her tricks, small workings that could help avoid confrontation or end it, if the situation required.

She watched as Juno started pacing. Sōla still didn’t know what she looked like; the woman had never taken off her helmet. As far as Sōla knew, she slept with it on as well, and she never ate where anyone could see.

"And watch out for Baal'ik,” said Juno. “Word is he's still got it out for you. How'd you manage to beat him with the dampeners on?"

Sōla sighed. The forsaken warrior had wanted her dead for years. He was a formidable warrior, and deadly strong, but the Shadow had drained much of his vitality, and his dependence upon the darkside hampered him. Without the Force or his armor, he was nothing but a big, angry, brute. “I am not worried about Baal’ik. He has not learned to compensate for his diminished powers. I have. And if I ever get them off…”

A blaring klaxon cut her thoughts short. Ride lights flared along the walkways beyond the cell, flashing to the rhythm of the alarm. Sōla and Juno shared a glance. Then a flat, robotic voice over the loudspeakers:

PRISONERS. RETURN TO YOUR CELLS. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. RETURN TO YOUR CELLS.”

Is this it? Is this our chance?

“Leave the cell?”

Juno nodded decisively. “Definitely leave the cell.”

 
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MYTUS VII
Aboard his personal ship the Oath of Iron
In orbit over Mytus VII
Crusader-class Corvette

Tag - Open to anyone who wants to help out

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Jaikell has heard rumors about other Mandalorian outside of the Mandalorian Empire, that swore no loyalty to the Mandalore,
So when he heard a transmission from someone calling themselves "Vren Rook" saying
"Within this transmission, you will find the beacon code to find Kestri."

He knew he had to meet them.


So he got in his ship and set off to find them.

But that's when he got a Message, How there was a Mandalorian along with another Prisoner being held on a planet called Mytus VII
He knew she had to of been from this group, and that he had to help them.

As Jaikell gears up for this, he has a report filled with anything he could find on this place, Forty or so stories of pure prison, Guards all around, defenses for sure, this is going to be a tough one.

Armed with his Beskad, his Throwing knives and his 88 'Big Iron' Hand Cannon, he descends on the planet, hopefully he wont need his hand cannon, but its better to have it.

He set his ship to maneuver to Altitude just low enough for him to jump out of his ship and, using his jet pack, descend to the top of the building as his ships flies away,
"Theres no turning back now" he says to himself.



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| Outfit: |
J O R I R
B E S K A R ' G A M

| Equipment: ALL |





 


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G U N S L I N G E R
Mytus VII
Tag: Juno Wren Juno Wren | Jaikell Wyrvhor Jaikell Wyrvhor | Sōla Taan Sōla Taan

It had been a long time since Siv Dragr had heard that name.

In his long line of work, Mandalorians came and went. The more infamous, those who carved their names into legend among the stars, sometimes flitted in and out like embers that would suddenly ignite, then extinguish, only to ignite once more inevitably. Juno Wren had been one of the most prolific and well-respected -- at least, by Siv -- Karjr in the Mandalorian Enclave. But it had been at least a decade since he'd heard a report of her.

Everything had made sense when a Ninyr'kad listening post received the message broadcast from the edge of Wild Space. Held captive in a black site facility. It was a fitting fate for a rogue criminal, but Wren was Mando'ad. Siv only took time to transmit the details to Vren Rook Vren Rook so the old bounty hunter-turned-politician could feel like he was doing something, before flying himself to the coordinates provided. Two had stowed away with him -- Siv knew them not, but the extra guns were appreciated. Still, three against potentially hundreds were not good betting odds, but Siv had played worse hands.

Reverting to hyperspace, he was running on maximum stealth afforded by the Kyr'yc Saca. The black site in the asteroid would have to have Core World-grade sensors, expensive ones at that, to detect Siv. Not so for the Crusader-class Corvette sitting there. "Fething..." his voice trailed off. So much for the element of surprise. Someone else had beaten him to the hit. Another Mandalorian? The ship was not of Kestri make, for sure.

Potential partner or foe regardless, it was an opportune distraction. The stations guards no doubt were on high alert with a warship on their perimeter; they wouldn't notice Siv piloting in his dropship to a far-off hangar, selectively jamming comms as he touched down. He'd have to think of a good story for anyone who came to receive the ship, or at least beat them on the draw. And then find Wren for a quick evac before things could go too sideways.

 
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SIGNY BRALOR
MYTUS VII | PRISON GROUNDS
TAG: Juno Wren Juno Wren Siv Dragr Siv Dragr Sōla Taan Sōla Taan Jaikell Wyrvhor Jaikell Wyrvhor
VISIBLY PRESENTING: Deliberately ambiguous - fully armoured

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Signy had heard about this attempt at a prison break and it sounded too much fun to pass up. Apparently the person they were rescuing was some big shot from back before she had even picked up her first helmet. She had made contact with one of other warriors attending and had hitched a ride on his dropship in order to not worry her father that she had decided it was time she made her own name.

As he slowly pulled into the hangar she looked at Siv Dragr Siv Dragr and grinned under her helmet. "They are going to surround us... i've got an idea. Ever heard of the "get help" tactic?" she laughed. An old gambit and such a dumb one that it would often catch people off guard. "I'll play possum, you carry me in calling for help then when we have them off guard... pow pow" she quick drew both her blaster pistols and mock fired them out the front window of the dropship.

"Or we just try and sweet talk our way in, but we arent gonna work that game unless we leave our armour behind." From the tone she gave it would be clear she didnt rate that idea.


 
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Throughout his entire time returning to the galaxy, one of Carduul’s foremost aspirations had been to bring more Mandalorians into the fold. Though his once-grandiose aspirations had been given a harsh truth of reality since then, it could not be helped that such an aim persisted. No matter to which specific Mandalorian cause he wished to lend himself to, be it for others or his own, that would remain.

However, the only prison-breaks he was used to were loud, violent ones. The last one he had orchestrated was done as part of a major invasion…yet this was but a small outpost on the outskirts of space. It left him hesitant; when Mandalorians showed up to such a place, it wouldn’t be difficult to leverage Mandalorian prisoners as hostages. So, he needed to take a route he hardly ever cared for save for in the shadows of Dxun—stealth.

And to even begin to try that, he would need aid from someone far more experience in such a department. Siv Dragr was a figure known to him through tales of the Enclave’s exploits. It had cropped up several times, though much like many others, it was a shoddy patchwork of hearsay.

Still, he was here. Fingers reflexively tap against the hull of the dropship he found himself in- peeking a bit unceremoniously over the driver’s shoulder. It earned a rear of his head back once the other occupant gestured shooting out the windows. “I do not think decent guards would fall for that.” Came a reply to the younger Bralor. “A place at the far reaches of space like this usually means it was not meant to be found in the first place…and there seems to be others.”

His gaze flickered to the front- it was likely on high alert, so their landing would likely be noticed sooner rather than later. A soft groan escaped him, for he truly had no better ideas. Though, the Crusader would opt for simply beating them to the draw. “Perhaps they haven’t even noticed us yet amidst their patrols. Loathe as I am to leave the armor, I do not wish them to leverage Mandalorian prisoners the moment they recognize a presence that may wish them.”

A heavy blaster pistol was holstered to his frame nonetheless, as he inched near the boarding ramp. Frankly, he was prepared to shoot their way in there when push came to shove. Then again, that was usually the man's preferred way.
 
Baal’ik Yautja
“The Forsaken Hunter”
Star's End | Mytus VII | Cell 467-L34
TAG: Siv Dragr Siv Dragr Jaikell Wyrvhor Jaikell Wyrvhor Sōla Taan Sōla Taan Baal’ik Yautja Baal’ik Yautja Signy Bralor Signy Bralor Carduul Akahl Carduul Akahl

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"PRISONERS. RETURN TO YOUR CELLS. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT. THIS IS NOT A —"

Baal’ik ripped the loudspeaker from the wall with a grunt and tossed it over the railing. The alarm was still blaring though, like a dull knife digging in his ear, and he could still hear the voice through the other loudspeakers.

The noise was driving him mad— his eye twitched, fanged teeth grinding. On reflex, he reached for the Shadow. He could feel the power swirling around him, yet he could not reach it, could not seize it for himself. It slipped through his hands like smoke. It made him even angrier.

Baal’ik wasn’t sure who was running the facility nowadays, but since the organic guards had pissed off to the lower levels and the stasis fields were lifted, this place had been a like a vacation. The prison was large enough for a proper hunt, and he’d had more than a few in past couple months. Hadn’t been a day yet he didn’t have to bash a few heads; he’d even made a chalice from the head of a mouthy Ithorian, and fashioned two bone knives from the broken femurs of a disrespectful Trandoshsn.

In fact, if it wasn’t for the dampening bracers and that fething jetii bog-witch, he might even call it paradise.

Maybe this was his chance to get even. The old rage was still there, as always, simmering and ready to boil over at the slightest provocation. Fething alarm. Fething jetii. The hate came when he looked out over the other cells of level 34 and glimpsed the buy’ce of Juno Wren. Wherever she went, the jetii was sure to be near.

“Boss?”

His arm snapped out, fingers closed around the throat of his chief bootlicker, a sleazy human aptly named Grease.

“Erk!” Grease’s eyes nearly popped out his head. “Can’t. Breathe,” he managed to wheeze.

“That is the idea,” said Baal’ik, his voice like grinding rocks. But he released the man, eyes still glued to cell 447, and the two walking dead women making their way out of it. The droids were marching past, all headed to the restricted lift in the center of the level. Strange. He’d suspected the alarm was because of some technical difficulty, but if the droids were shipping out, that could only mean one thing…interlopers. The guards were too craven to fight, so they were sending the droids to do it. I smell an opportunity.

Round up the fodder. All of them. And send word to the other block leaders. It is time.”

Grease swallowed, nervous fear oozing from his pores. “We’re storming the lower levels?”

“Hn,” Baal’ik grunted. “Many will die. I will not.”

He needed to get the dampeners off. And then he needed to kill the jetii.

That meant he had to go see the Red Lady.
 
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Star's End
Objective -Free the Prisoners


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Jaikell descends from the sky, like a shooting star in the night he he goes and lands on the top of the building.
Beskad in hand, Quickly but quietly making his way to the first guard he sees, and just as he's about to swing his heavy beskad and take him out
Klaxon's fire out across the building, and the guards start yelling orders and moving quickly,

"Something must be going on inside the building" he thinks to himself, as he quickly takes out the first guard in front of him.
But with all theses alarms blaring and guards around, he might as well use his 88 Big Iron Hand Cannon,

So he puts his beskad away and pulls out his Hand Cannon, Right as a guard walks around the corner, quickly Jaikell aims and shoots him in the chest.
At least he doesnt have to go silent anymore, he always preferred it loud anyways.


a few moments later, As jaikell takes out guard after guard with a few close calls along the way he makes his way to one of the staircases down to the actual building
Keycard needed
"Damnit, need to go looking."

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| Outfit: |
J O R I R
B E S K A R ' G A M

| Equipment: ALL |





 

JUNO WREN
Star’s End | Mytus VII | Cell L34
TAG: Siv Dragr Siv Dragr Jaikell Wyrvhor Jaikell Wyrvhor Sōla Taan Sōla Taan Baal’ik Yautja Baal’ik Yautja Signy Bralor Signy Bralor Carduul Akahl Carduul Akahl


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Juno watched Grease flee from Baal’ik’s cell and round up the fodder, sirens still blaring. He went from one prisoner to the next, passing the word. They’d likely be doing the same on the other levels, gathering the biggest, toughest idiots and sending them to storm the lower levels. They’ll break at the first blaster bolt. It was going to be a bloodbath.

“Can’t go down…at least not yet. Too much heat. Gotta’ go up,” said Juno. Next to her, Sōla hummed in thought.

“There’s roof access, up on the 40th.”

“Yeah…and the Red Schutta is up on the 40th, too.” And we’ll likely need a keycard as well. If only I had my kit.

Sōla hummed again. “Might be riskier than chancing the lower levels. We’d be fools to trust a Sith.”

“And it might be our best shot. Especially if she can those dampeners off.” She’d bet her left tit that’s where Baal’ik was going. “I’m not saying trust her. I’m saying use her.”​


The jetii was quiet for a long moment. Juno liked that about her. Sōla always thought before she spoke. “Very well. I’ll petition the Red Lady for help.” She gestured with her hand. “Lead the way, vod.”

Despite it all, Juno smiled. “We’ll make a proper Mandalorian out of you yet, kid.”

 
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SŌLA TAAN-KRAYT
Mytus VII | Star’s End | Level 40
TAG: Siv Dragr Siv Dragr Jaikell Wyrvhor Jaikell Wyrvhor Juno Wren Juno Wren Baal’ik Yautja Baal’ik Yautja Signy Bralor Signy Bralor Carduul Akahl Carduul Akahl


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They took the steps. The main lift that dominated the center of the structure was all but inaccessible by prisoners, and the cardinal lifts— named such because each coincided with a cardinal direction— were all being used to go down. Usually the steps were guarded by a group of Baal’ik’s lackeys, but with all the commotion, they’d abandoned their post. Or they went down with all the rest.

The 40th floor was made much the same as the others, a vast, rounded space with a walkway around the walls, and paths arcing to the main lift in the center. All the cells were empty, however.

All but one.

“Juno Wren, Sōla Krayt. Come. Join me.” The Red Lady cut a striking figure in a tailored, scarlet uniform, a far cry from the drab clothing everyone else wore. She was beautiful, Sōla thought, in the way a sword was beautiful, sharp and deadly. But her eyes were a fiery yellow that gleamed with malice.

There will be no using this creature. We were fools.

And there, looming in the recesses of the cell, was Baal’ik. She looked down at his bare wrists. Oh, fe—

His massive hand shot out, and she went flying. She spun head over heels, turned her flailing into a controlled backflip, and landed in a low crouch on the arcing bridge to the main lift.

Baal’ik was sprinting towards her, his massive feet shaking the walkway. She couldn’t fight him hand to hand. Not with his bracers off.

“Win,” said the Red Lady, “and I will remove your bracers.”

Baal’ik was on her then, and it took every bit of her focus to keep from getting pummeled.

“Now, Miss Wren…let’s talk business. I have a proposition for you. You need a keycard yes? I need someone found.”


 
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