How To Train Your Dragon [Eternal Empire, TSE, Black Suns]

[Vidalu Na'an]

Na'an was a little...busy, to respond right away. Even with the Force running hotly through every limb, even with some dude ( Aaran Tafo ) coming out of nowhere to join her efforts, it was all she could to do keep the dragon from lifting its face out of the sudden cloud of gas engulfing it. Her arms were quaking from sheer exertion, both her legs were propped vertically against the half-wall, and with the onset of the gas she now had to hold her breath. The Tyrant dragon was insane--its neck corded with muscle, constantly trying to buck loose from the stranger ( Viktor Goetz , now) whaling on its head with some kind of hammer--its strength seemingly endless, its tail behind it crashing through walls to make new wrecks of them. It snorted furiously against the syntherope, sending blasts of hot air against her face every couple of seconds. For a minute, one terrifying minute, it seemed that it wouldn't be enough, that even with the three of them their strength would falter before the gas took hold. Na'an's eyes sqeezed shut, throwing all her focus into just a few more seconds of desperate pulling--

Then a vibration rattled its way down the syntherope and into her arm.

Na'an opened her eyes.

The dragon had paused. No longer thrashing about, the animal's head simply strained against the syntherope, as if it suddenly lacked the energy to do much more than pull. Its eye fixed on Na'an again, as baleful as ever, but the bright scarlet of before seemed duller now, a deep clouded burgundy like unfiltered wine. As she watched, transfixed, the eye blinked shut once, twice.

The third time, the eye stayed shut.

Then the Tyrant dragon finally, mercifully, collapsed into the snow.

With the animal's strength no longer serving as ballast, the syntherope in Na'an's hands slacked all at once. Her own pull sent her tumbling head over foot backwards, landing in a snowdrift several feet back with a yelp. The soft stuff buried her briefly, before she could brush the worst of it away from her face; then she simply laid back down into it, staring up at the sky in wonder. The storm was slowly starting to break, and Kalidan's unfamiliar star could be seen, here and there, in patches between the clouds.

The snow was so cold. The sun was so bright. Through the Force, she could sense the dragon's heart beginning to finally slow.

"Hello, Viktor," she said after a few seconds. "I'm Na'an."

The next thing that bubbled out from between her lips was the first good laugh she'd had in months.

 

[Viktor Goetz]

Clipping the power hammer back to his belt, Viktor nodded and responded curtly to Vidalu Na'an .

"So how are you doing, Na'an? You clearly aren't an Imperial."

Turning to the newcomer, Aaran Tafo , he added.

"And you, voyeur, you know you're in one of the worst radioactive hell-holes the galaxy has seen, right? People don't come here for pictures."

Shaking his head, Viktor kneeled down and began to remove the metallic shards of dragon scales that were broken and embedded in the flesh of the dragon, revealing a broken, softer second layer of flesh and skin that oozed copious amounts of reptilian blood. Tossing the shards haphazardly aside, perhaps even pelting the camera guy. Reaching underneath his cloak toward the back of his belt, Viktor opened a pouch and removed a long, capped injector system. Removing the cap, he revealed a long needle filled with a reddish fluid.

Plunging the needle completely into the dragon's flesh, the dragon began to slightly squirm and awaken but Viktor responded by removing another grenade and squarely throwing it at the dragon's nose.

"No. Bad dragon. Sleep." Viktor childishly chided the dragon before injecting the contents of the needle and removing the injector. Capping the injector and putting it back into his belt pouch, he slapped the exposed flesh of the dragon, which surprisingly began to heal rapidly and scab over.

Taking a seat on top of the dragon, he looked down to the two acquaintances and further inquired.

"So the five hundred thousand credit bounty or the dragon itself. What do you guys think?"

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

An Imperial shuttle rumbled over the spectacle in the ruins, on its way to a safer location nearby. Symbols on either flank designated it as a medical shuttle. From the viewports, those inside could witness a small humanoid swinging around the muzzle of a mythic Kalidan dragon, deaf to the humanoid's maniacal yodeling. A tourist leapt onto the rope as the head came down and two grenades later, another humanoid had mounted the massive head and started pounding it. Then the abating blizzard swept away the scene as the shuttle flew over more ruins before setting down in what used to be a block of housing.

Adelle scowled as she left the viewport and double-checked the medical stocks. That had been Na'an, she was sure of it. The one slinging around the massive beast like some festival ride back on Dantooine. Two engineers in heavy gear left the sealed part of the shuttle with crates on repulsors, beginning to craft a decontamination unit as a sort of airlock before any of the hunters entered the medical shuttle proper. Adelle slammed a metal cabinet door shut, still questioning why she was here. She had all but lost her voice screaming at Leigh when she found out Na'an had come here on this fools' errand. She had no love for Vyra, prejudiced as she was against anyone from Na'an's former "Family." Still, when the Empress Imminent had requested her presence on the medical shuttle, she'd acquiesced.

Even from inside, she could feel the chill temperatures from outside. She raked her fingers through her short hair, half-regretting the recent change made in spite, anger, and pain. For the millionth time, Adelle questioned why she was here, exactly, and settled on the unsatisfying answer she kept telling herself: she could hardly say no to the Empress that saved her village. She pulled out a flask and took a long draw then sat on a stool to wait for the casualties.

Vyra Silara | Vidalu Na'an | Viktor Goetz | Aaran Tafo

 

[Vyra Silara]

Southern Wastes
Kalidan, Eternal Empire​

She thought she’d adequately prepared.

The Lady Vyra Silara had made arrangements for herself and Vidalu Na'an . (Of course, the Wanderer wouldn’t accept anything other than the coat, despite Vyra’s insistence. Or, perhaps, BECAUSE of it.)

Three layers of thermals over a neck to toe synthetic compression suit designed to keep heat in. Thick, hearty thermawool socks with warming devices inside synthmesh knee-high boots. A seamless, supposed water-and-windproof ensemble of white nylon fit snugly over everything, a stark contrast to the heavy maroon cloak that hid it all, draped heavily over her petite form from hood to hem. She’d even wrapped her head and ears in the same fabric, pulling the material across her face to shield her nose and mouth from the elements, and invested in a pair of clear goggles meant for downhill winter sports.

But even buried under her mountain of ‘preparation’, the disgraced ‘summerworld’ queen found no mercy from the elements. Kalidan’s hostile frozen breath forced its way in, assaulting any sliver of exposed flesh with jagged snowflakes and razor-edged winds. Bearable, perhaps, for those used to it, but it would take more than a few weeks for Vyra’s thin blood to thicken.

The comms in her ear delivered a burst of static as Vyra fell into place slightly behind Kainan Wolfe , the now-familiar forms of the mighty Wolfguard all around them, the Emperor’s ever-present guardians. Exemplary warriors, yes, perhaps the most elite she’d encountered yet, but it wasn’t just her faith in their combat skills that settled her nerves as she crunched through the snow on this harsh world they called their new home. It was their devotion to Kainan, the empire he’d built and the ideals that made the foundations of it all that put her mind at ease. She was certain of so little these days. So very little. To know, truly know that her..fiancé would never find himself without loyal protection was the greatest comfort of all.


Fiancé. Just thinking the word sent her mind in a rapid tailspin, throwing tangled up emotions every which way. She pushed the thought away for now, clenching her jaw as she clamped down on her overwhelmed spirit. It wasn’t hard. She’d been smothering herself under the weight of her smiling masked performance since age fourteen. Another day wasn’t a problem. The Naboo native was already an unnecessary participant in this great hunt. The least she could do was be a mentally stable one. Besides…

Most of Kalidan already thought her soft and weak. Unnecessary. Incapable.

Vyra wouldn’t add anymore to their arsenal.

It was the main reason she’d insisted on joining the expedition, batting away any arguments (and there were many) against it with sharp determination. Old habit had her expecting the worst resistance from Kainan. Instead, he’d handed her the gathered information on their quarry, along with a few words of caution and what to expect, and simply reminded her to dress warmly. Everyone else had told her no, absolutely not, you’re not a fighter, you’re not equipped for it, stay back where it’s safe, you can’t do it, not capable, you don’t have it in you. Well, everyone except Na’an, who had made it clear she didn’t give a wampa’s rear-end WHAT Vyra did as long as it didn’t involve Na’an. Even Handmaiden Eirene , her most trusted ally and loyal bodyguard, the one person around her who really KNEW her, had advised against it most vehemently.

And maybe they were right. But the more they said no, the more they pushed her back in her protective cage, the firmer her conviction grew. Something her and Na’an still had in common, she supposed.


There were eyes on her, and she knew Khorde Drago wouldn’t stare.

Pushing her goggles up off her eyes, Vyra pulled aside the red fabric protecting her face and squinted against the blast of bitter air that whipped at her porcelain skin. She looked up, finding Kainan’s luminous golden gaze with relative ease in the blinding white around them, saw the steady caution in their feline shape, like he knew the urge to rush off after Na’an without thinking was building in her bones. She smiled at him, bright as the sun and innocent as a lamb. “Where do we start? Lead the way, My Lord. I’ll follow.”

No one else really saw her when they looked at her, which, in retrospect, was mostly her own fault. She never LET them see her. But it seemed even those that knew her story couldn’t truly see her, either. They saw privilege and decadence, complacency, connections, a tool to use, a victim to exploit. Everything they love, and everything they hate.

No one saw the bruised but powerful girl that’d clawed her way up a hundred-foot pit and destroyed half the slave operation on Zygerria. No one saw the broken creature who cried at night because she couldn’t wash the blood of hundreds of thousands off her soul but rose every morning with her chin held high and hope in her smile.

But he did. Kainan saw her.

And for all the evil, monstrous things she knew he’d done and continued to do, she couldn’t ignore that.


She could see others, arriving via ships and dropships all around them, struggling through the snow and wind on their way to half a million credits and some serious bragging rights. One, (Kerstan Blackmoore ) dressed far too finely to be just another hunter, seemed to peel away from everyone else to forge his own path towards glory.

Captain Drago never hovered, yet was always close at hand. Vyra admired his strength and dedication, but he was still mostly a mystery to her. That, she mused, would have to change. Eventually. Her crash course on their culture hadn’t covered it, but she was in the habit of getting to know those she worked closely with. Friendly relationships bred healthy environments. Hopefully that wasn’t looked down on here. She’d find out.

Vyra shifted her weight, feeling the imbalance with the rifle strapped to her back, but she knew all too well, out here, it was a necessary burden. As if to confirm, through the thick wintry air ripped a roar so savage she could swear the snow around them vibrated. It came from the distance…

…in the direction Vidalu Na’an had gone.


What followed was a cacophony of bellowing and screeching, roaring and rumbling, rippling outwards from the initial site as every conscious Tyrant dragon in the vicinity responded in kind.

And so the nests were stirred.


Vyra’s heart hammered in her chest, adrenaline rocketing through her body. Even the pistol in her hand and the finest warriors around her couldn’t stop the flashes from searing across her vision.

Pain, everywhere. Fires burning in the wreckage of her shuttle. Shimmering, super-heated air over hot metal scales. Acrid smoke that seemed to stick to your nostrils. Jaws, monstrous jaws yawning open before her, wide enough to engulf her entire form in one snap. Teeth as long as her legs. Eyes, black as dead space, fixated, hateful. Taloned wings so broad they’d disappeared in the falling snow. And a man on its back…

She’d tasted Kalidan's snow, bled into its soil and faced one of its most dangerous inhabitants before she’d ever set foot in the city.
And she fully realized in that moment she had absolutely no desire to face it again.


They were right. She stood there in her layers with her soft limbs and borrowed weapons and lack of skill in combat and she admitted it to herself without hesitation. They were right. She was a fool. She shouldn’t have come. And yet…

And yet.

The only instinct, the only desire that rose high above the fear in her gut was to run.
Not away. Towards.
Not just for Na’an. But for herself.
It was the only way she'd managed to leave the Pit on Zygerria. The only way to free herself.
Run at what scares you. Be afraid, but do it anyway, the saying went. Face your nightmares. Give them no quarter.

Tyrant dragons were just another hundred-foot-deep pit to scale.

The politician kept it from her features, though she did grip her pistol a bit too tightly and wildly checked the skies above for wings. Rushing off into the blizzard was not the way. Instead, Vyra tucked a hand under her hood and switched to Na’an’s comm frequency. “Wanderer?” She all but yelled into the mic, frantic concern in her voice. “What’s your situation? …Are you alright?? Do you need aid?”

|| Adelle Bastiel || Viktor Goetz || Formorta || Aaran Tafo || Cero Pax ||

​

 

[Aaran Tafo]

As the Beast's struggles finally ceased, Aaran released his grip on the lifeline that held the Tyrant dragon at bay. His arms screaming in relief as the immense strain was finally lifted. They hung limply at his side as he stumbled backwards. Thankfully still keeping his footing. Unlike his fellow Dragon wrangler. But like his unlikely partner. A soft laugh came from his lips as he realised the sheer absurdity of the past few minutes.

One hand going to his stomach as he bent over. A full, deep belly laugh. bursting out of him as he struggled to keep himself standing. Turning over to @ Viktor Goetz he raised a brow underneath the fully sealed helmet. "Hey. I dont judge you for your hobby." He chuckled, gesturing to the slumbering beast. "I think it is safe to say that anyone who decides to come out here to deal with Dragons in any way is a bit of a nutjob." He turned fully to the masked man and gave a full bow. "But. Thank you all the same. You're quite the hunter." He then turned to Na'an and repeated the process. "And you as well. You really saved my hide from being chased all over by a Dragon."

Taking a breath to center himself and mentally blocking out the ache in his arms. Aaran then moved past the pair and towards the sleeping lizard. One hand reaching out to lay on its snout. The slow rumbling breathing of the beast breezed past the Padawan, nearly pushing him back slightly. "Thank you for not killing it." He said, his tone laced with awe as he ran a hand along the Dragon's head. Plucking off a stray scale and pocketing it for later memoirs. Now this beast could be captured, treated humanely. Perhaps the local government had a menagerie prepared. Or perhaps they were simply going to transport a good number of them offworld.

Either solution was fine with Aaran. He was simply happy that the Dragon did not have to die. The death of such a magnificent creature would be nothing but a tragedy.

But of course. All good things had to come to an end. And when he heard the distant roars of the other Dragons. He paled slightly under his mask. Turning back towards Viktor. "Might be best if we get out of here soon. I dont think this one's cousins are too happy about our little tussle here."

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

Gods, the laughter felt so good; Na'an didn't even bother with anything but it for a good couple of minutes. She half ignored the sounds of her companions-- Viktor Goetz asking if she was Imperial, the other guy ( Aaran Tafo )'s blessedly simple gratitude. She only vaguely marked the whir of the shuttle ( Adelle Bastiel ) flying overhead. The pain in her wrist (a simple dislocation from the feel of it) faded into the background. She even let herself, for a bit, disregard the distant rumblings slowly rising above the last remnants of blizzard-noise. It was just good to let herself sink into the giggles until her stomach hurt.

In the end, what she couldn't ignore was the telltale beep of a comlink.

Na'an sat up, fishing around in the fur lining of her collar until her fingers touched warm durasteel. She'd almost forgotten that this pocket was there. It hadn't seemed like something she would be using at all today--a simple standard comm frequency of the Empire, one used commonly throughout the Palace staff. She thumbed the play button, only to wince at the too-loud voice of Her Majesty herself.

...Vyra tucked a hand under her hood and switched to Na’an’s comm frequency. “Wanderer?” She all but yelled into the mic, frantic concern in her voice. “What’s your situation? …Are you alright?? Do you need aid?”

And there it was. Na'an's mouth worked a little at the sound of her old alias piping its way into her ear, but she couldn't deny that Vyra Silara at least sounded sincere in her worry. If there was no reply, there'd be no end to it. She unclipped the comlink from her collar, and depressed its tranceiver halfway through the word "aid".

"I'm good, actually," she said brightly. "Viktor and I have it under control. I'll have the tagging beacon active in a second."

She looked at her new unlikely companions, unable to resist a wicked little grin.

"Juuuuust got to get my rope back first, and we'll get right back to work."

Then she turned the comlink off.

The laughter seemed to have done her body a world of good. If anything, it was far easier than Na'an had anticipated to make her way back to her feet and pick through the rubble towards the downed dragon's neck. Getting the beacon out of her pocket with a dislocated wrist proved to be harder than she liked; Na'an paused for a second to pop the joint forcibly back into place, inhaling sharply at the zing of pain that followed. With that taken care of, she rubbed the back of the beacon to activate the adhesive. The light in its center blinked three times, then held steady, indicating that it was ready to receive information. She bent over it, feeling out the words in her mouth carefully to ensure they transmitted clearly. "Adult...female, I think? Live capture, minimal damage, ready for pickup at these coordinates. Bounty should be credited to a Viktor...Goats? Go-ets? Guts? I'm sure he's on record somewhere."

She turned back to Empire guy in the mask. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear your suname very clearly. It was...pretty noisy back there," she said, with an awkward little laugh. "It shouldn't make a difference, though. The Empress should be able to find you okay."

That should answer all the questions he had, somewhat--at least as much of an answer she cared to give at the moment. Turning back to the beacon, she tapped in the command to transmit, then slapped the adhesive end onto the dragon's neck. She could feel the animal's pulse under her fingertips even through her gloves, slow and liquid and warm. She stood, brushing a bit of snow off her knees, then looked around expectantly.

"So! Either of you up for another one, or should we check in with that shuttle first?"

Under the fading wind, the night air rung with the music of dragons.

 

[Cero Pax]

The Ne'tra Tracinya began to drop in altitude, fully exposing itself to the savagery of the blizzard's rage. Almost immediately, it's sensors began to falter due to the interference, blipping in and out on the dashboard, struggling to give any form of readout on the area, let alone accurate or intelligible. Cero toyed with the controls, dialing back the range of the arrays in attempts to lessen the burden on them. Actual visual confirmation was just as bad, his view not stretching past a dozen meters in the face of the storm.

"Might as well be flying with my eyes shut." He muttered to himself. In the distance, he could hear the distant roar of artillery fire and the actual roars of beasts, the Imperials no doubt having begun their own exterminations. He wondered briefly if he should've just swallowed his pride on this one occasion, and worked in tandem with a group of the EE's forces. Sure, the payout would be significantly smaller, but assured credits were always better. Ah well, he said to himself, but where's the fun in that?

His radar would begin beeping periodically, as he finally closed in on the location. From the cockpit, the nest looked to be built into an old mining camp, the remains of machinery and vehicles left scattered around the area, the barest hints of structure lending assumptions as to what their functions used to be. The few buildings that remained standing only did so by the barest forms of support, their walls worn, crumbled, and broken in the face of Kalidan's weather. At the center of the camp, lie a wide pit, delving deep into the surface of the planet. It was far enough down that even with a brief fly over, it wasn't possible to tell just how far it went, but it was large enough that, if he chose, he could probably drop the ship down into it if he wanted.

Comfy spot to settle in, if I were a dragon. It was odd though. He was in close enough range that even if a Tyrant rested at the bottom of the pit, the ship would be able to pick it up on radar. But instead, it was giving him nothing. Damn it. Had he picked a dead nest? As he mulled over the possibility, he could feel a headache coming on. No... wait, not a headache. More rapid pulse, on the edge of his mind. It was a familiar sense, something he'd experienced hundreds of times, both in and out of combat. An uneasy feeling, that something was coming.... Now.

Suddenly the ships' alarms began to blare as an object appeared on the radar, rapidly closing in from the edge of its range towards the ship. Despite him pulling back on the controls of the Ne'tra, forcing it backwards, he could not avoid a collision with whatever was coming. A piercing scream cut through the air, echoing through the hull of the ship, as it collided against the side of it. Alerts of structural damage to the hull began to queue up, Cero forcing the ship to right itself after nearly capsizing in the air. The blip rounded the ship, coming to a rest opposite of the mining chasm. It's scaled body off a metallic sheen, the dark gray coloring giving no indication of what metal could possibly make up the beasts diet. It was larger, more so than he expected, being comparable in size to even the Ne'tra. Steam billowed from both it's mouth and nostrils, it's eyes focused entirely on him.

A quick diagnostic proved the damage to the hull largely was composed of denting, nothing crippling, at least, for the moment. But for the beast to be able to even to that, to damage the dual-layered hull of Impervium and Duralloy, was... well surprising.

Cero felt a grin grow on his face in anticipation. '"Let's get on with it then."

 

[Viktor Goetz]

Hearing Vidalu Na'an 's association with the current Empress, Viktor hesitated for a moment and went into deep contemplation for a few moments. 'The Empress, huh...The Imperial Assembly has been ripe with rumors and speculations on who the Empress is but as a matter of faction, outside of their engagement, no one has any concrete information about them. It would be wise to proceed respectfully to avoid facing the wrath of either the Empress and Emperor...who knows the extent of their relationship and the extent of her grasp and influence.'

Reaching forward, he loosened the loop of her rope and slid it off the dragon's head spike before jumping down in front of Na'an.

Taking out his military comlink, he dialed in for the closest medical shuttle, which happened to be the one Adelle Bastiel was in, and requested stoically, "One V.I.P. has been injured. Requesting medical assistance."

Turning back to Na'an, he bowed slightly and respectfully stated, "Na'an. Please await for a doctor to inspect your injury before continuing forward."

Resuming his work, Viktor began uncoiling the rope from the dragon's mouth and patted the side of its head. Neatly coiling the rope in a loop, he loosely tied one end of the rope around the coil of rope to prevent it from slipping before handing it to Na'an. Turning back after she received it, Viktor turned to Aaran Tafo and responded,

"Nowhere in Kalidan is safe. There is a blizzard incoming and we are losing daylight quickly. If we are to continue our hunt, we need to decide whether to encamp here to let Na'an's wrist heal and rest or return to base with the medical shuttle."

Heading toward his backpack, he closed and secured his backpack before carrying it on his back once again. Shouldering his rifle, Viktor return back to Na'an and Aarn, awaiting their response and for the medical shuttle to arrive.

 

[Aaran Tafo]

He wanted to. So dearly wanted to go investigate the roars. It was one thing to see a single dragon in action. But seeing an entire flock of the majestic lizard in flight would be a once in a lifetime experience. One foot moved towards where he could hear the roars coming from. Surely if he just kept his body low and minimized his presence with the aid of the Force he could get a few wonderful shots.

But then he stopped. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He already had what he came for. A memory, a holopic. Even a bag ful of stray dragon scales. He had more than enough of an experience. He stood there for a moment. Letting the sound of the howling snowstorm fill his thoughts as he allowed his head to clear. Banishing any stray need for excitement or personal validation.

He was whole. He was content with what he had. Anything else was simply being greedy.

"Waiting here for ornery dragons to come nibblin on us while we hide in a tent does not sound like it would be a good time." Aaran said, nodding once in agreement with the masked man. Turning his back from the temptation of excitement and instead deciding to run his hand along the ridge of the Dragon's snout once again. Plucking just a few more stray scales for his collection. One other hand reaching into his bag to pull out a small canister of bacta. Holding it out towards Na'an. "Bacta spray. Should help with any swelling." He said, holding it outstretched for the woman to take if she so desired.

"I've got a ride a small bit from here if y'all want a lift back to the city." He offered, tearing his gaze away from the Dragon, giving the two his full attention. "I aint got no notion to go after another Lizard. Got what I came for. But y'all are more than welcome to get a ride back if you're so inclined."

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

As a freshly patched up hunter left the shuttle, a brief second of static heralded an incoming comm from the cockpit.

::One V.I.P. has been injured. Requesting medical assistance.::

The co-pilot pressed a button on the console as the pilot herself started the warm-up sequence.

::Unidentified Hunter, request confirmed. Tracing comm's origin point. Origin point confirmed. Proceeding to coordinates. Stand by.::

The engineers had made short work of the pre-fab decontamination unit, breaking it down and securing its pieces back in their storage containers by the time the engines had fully warmed up to safe flying temperatures.

"All staff, strap in," the pilot said. Adelle heard him both through the cockpit opening and the pa system overhead. She sat down in one of the few seats left in the back, fastening her safety harness nearly at the same time as the engineers and one tech. The two medical droids stood near a wall and a half-cylinder of metal sealed them in. While she wasn't a fan of the Dark Siders, the Imps did know efficiency. She could get used to that.

"Take off in three. Two. One."

The shuttle jolted, swaying wildly to one side as a gust of wind hit them. As the turbulence continued over their short flight, Adelle could feel herself getting a little green around the gills. Normally, she never got motion sick but she also normally never flew in atmo of a planet that could have blizzards as strong as super-hurricanes. The wind calmed as the shuttle slowed and Adelle closed her eyes, grateful for the momentary respite.

"No radiation detected. Decontamination unit unnecessary." the co-pilot said. "No hostiles detected. Area clear."

"Initiating landing sequence." The PA cut off but Adelle could still hear the pilot speaking. ::Unidentified Hunter, this is Angel Four-Seven-Niner. There is no landing zone at your current coordinates. We are setting down 250 meters east of your location. Do you require evac assistance?::

Wind swayed the ship back and forth as the pilot started landing the shuttle down in a clear space. Through brief glimpses caught through the windblown snow, Adelle could see bits of what looked like to be an old, expansive courtyard. The windward wall still remained standing tall, giving the shaken passengers a break from the turbulence. The shuttle shuddered and heaved as the landing gear touched down, Adelle already unbuckling and standing up. The engineers started putting on their thick thermal pants and coats again, masks dangling from around their necks as they unhooked the repulsor stretcher. Adelle set about sanitizing the examination table. If this was from the group she saw from the air, there was no telling what injuries there might be.

For now, all they could do was wait for a response.

Vidalu Na'an | Viktor Goetz | Aaran Tafo

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

"I've got a ride a small bit from here if y'all want a lift back to the city." He offered, tearing his gaze away from the Dragon, giving the two his full attention. "I aint got no notion to go after another Lizard. Got what I came for. But y'all are more than welcome to get a ride back if you're so inclined."

Na'an took the proffered bacta with a half-smile and a twinge of disappointment. "That's a shame, stranger," she said. "You've got terrible taste in tourist attractions, but it was...nice...to work with a friendly face."

And It was true. The man ( Aaran Tafo ) was clearly more guarded than he let on, given that he hadn't so much as offered his name or a reason he was here. Maybe he was normally from a summerworld, with that dark complexion, and a place like this was a novelty? Even so, he wasn't like most of the Force-sensitives Na'an found herself surrounded with these days, slick and cold and thick with the kind of darkness that seemed to leave an oily coat on her tongue. Whatever he was doing here, it was weirdly refreshing to meet someone new on Kalidan who felt so clean. Even if that meant it was probably for the best, that he was already on his way out.

"Although I think a ride won't be necessary," she continued, pointing a thumb back at Viktor Goetz . "Calling me a VIP's a bit of an oversell, really, but since a medical shuttle just flew overhead a minute ago we won't be waiting long either way. It's probably still nearby."

As if on cue, the shuttle from before crested the ruin skyline. It took only a few seconds for it to approach, until it was hovering over the far edge of the ruins with Imperial efficiency. She looked to Viktor, then to the stranger, leaning back against the dragon's flank and all but beaming at her own correct prediction.

"See? We'll get checked out and cleared to go in no time. Then we can get right back...to..."

The sentence died in her throat before she could say finding another dragon. Instead, a familiar prickle on her skin--one other than the sting of snowflakes whipping at her face--had her looking back upwards to the waiting shuttle. She closed her eyes and reached out towards it quickly with the Force, almost immediately finding what she already knew to be there.

A flicker of watery light, like the reflection of stars on the surface of a stream--

Adelle Bastiel .

"....aw, sithspit."

 

[Aaran Tafo]

In response to the criticism of his choice in destination. Aaran made a show of turning up his nose in exaggerated haughtiness. "I'll have you know." He began, putting on a brief core world accent. "I have the best taste in vacation spots. How many can say they got as close to a Dragon as I did hmm?" He asked, raising a brow under the mask. And while the filter obscured his mouth. The smile could be heard in his words as he sat himself down in the snow. Leaning his back against the slumbering titan.

"Friends in high places?" Aaran asked as he watched the shuttle descend. His question in response to the woman's claim of not quite being a VIP. But still somewhat important. If the brief transmission over her commlink earlier was any indication. Someone was concerned for her safety at the very least. The genuine worry in the speaker's voice was indication enough of that.

Clapping his hands together once. Aaran rose back to his feet. Giving both of his fellow hunters a bow. ""But again. Thank you very much for helping out there. Did not fancy being chased all over by that Dragon. As much of a memory and story for others that would be." He was about to turn away. Make his way back towards his vehicle before he felt Na'an tense. The twisting of her emotions playing powerfully on his own senses. Stopping in his tracks, he turned to look back to her and Viktor. Body tensing ever so slightly.

"Are they going to be trouble?" He asked quietly, wordlessly pledging support in thanks for saving him previously if the answer happened to be 'yes'.

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

"Not for you, no." Na'an burrowed her face back down into the collar of her coat, her cheeks red now from more than just the cold. "It's just my luck. The one human on this planet that actually gives a shab if I'm hurt, and now she knows I'm here."

Here. In a ruin, in the middle of a blizzard, among perfect strangers. Leaning against the monstrous, still-living hulk of an dragon she'd specifically come out here alone to face.

 

[Viktor Goetz]

Viktor waited for a moment and heard from his earpiece a new voice entering the encrypted military channel.

::Unidentified Hunter, this is Angel Four-Seven-Niner. There is no landing zone at your current coordinates. We are setting down 250 meters east of your location. Do you require evac assistance?::

Ignoring the conversation between Aaran Tafo and Vidalu Na'an , he clicked his tongue in his cheek and raised the military comlink to his face once again. "Angel Four-Seven-Niner, this is Baron Viktor Goetz. No evac assistance necessary. Escorting the V.I.P over now."

Looking over at Na'an, Viktor motioned for her to follow and looked back at Aaran, remarking, "See you around voyeur, I wouldn't recommend traversing the sands."

Swinging his rifle off his shoulder and holding it in his hands, he walked forward toward the location of the medical shuttle without any trouble. On his heads-up display, an indicator directed Viktor in the right way and had a distance gauge that slowly decreased as they got closer and closer to the 250 meters mark. Looking over at Na'an, he was going to maintain his silence but decided it was best to warn her after over hearing her conversation with Aaran.

"No running off now Na'an. You need proper medical attention. A spray might not cut it, you might have deeper tissue damage."

Turning back toward the shuttle, they arrived uninterrupted and he comm'ed over the medical shuttle.

"Angel Four-Seven-Niner, this is Baron Goetz. We are on your footsteps." Adelle Bastiel

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

::Acknowledged.::

The chirp of the comlink had hardly died before the back hatch of the shuttle lowered into a ramp ascending into the sealed off portion of the med shuttle. The two engineers, outfitted in their thermal gear, took up posts on either side and held their blaster pistols at the ready, in case the all clear situation changed.

Adelle capped and slid the flask of Corellian whiskey back inside the mildly insulated doctor's coat when she heard the door hissed open. The first dragon hunter walked in, clearly unharmed and bearing an authoritative presence. It didn't look like Kalidan's weather bothered him much, his gear and facial mask dusted with snow as it was. The hunter behind him, however, wore only a fur-lined jacket and seemed to try to stay out of her line of sight. Adelle felt her blood flash hot then turn as icy as the wind outside, despite the grey fleecing that lined her coat.

Na'an should know better. She couldn't hide her presence from Adelle any more than she could tear out Babylon.

"Of kriffing course," she hissed. Then, biting out her words "Will the injured patient please step forward for examination?"



Vidalu Na'an | Viktor Goetz

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

Na'an scowled even through her embarrassed flush--not so much at anyone in specific, than at the whole stupid situation. She'd planned on having a full day ahead of her before having to justify this decision to her friend--that, and at least two dragons' worth of credits for whatever it was Leigh was doing. But her newest companion, now under the impression that her life somehow mattered to the gorram Empire, had all but walked her right into the conversation early. Now that she was here, it wasn't like she could avoid Adelle Bastiel and her worry. She sidled past Viktor Goetz , pulling both of her hands out of her pockets and holding them up, fingers splayed. "I'm not injured," she said, knowing and not caring that she probably sounded a little petulant. "I already popped the joint back in, and I've got bacta for the swelling already.

"And you--" she rounded on Viktor for a moment, and this time the scowl was specificially for him and his stupid mask. "I'm not a VIP, and you calling me that is not helping."

 

[Kainan Wolfe]

Attn: Vyra Silara | Vidalu Na'an | Formorta | Khorde Drago | Kerstan Blackmoore
Equipment: Uniform | Sword | Spear | Rifle | Pistol​

• Southern Wastes
  Kalidan, Eternal Empire

The mercenary ( Formorta ) was quick to respond and precise with her words, never wasting any time on idle banter, delivering her report and requesting an instruction. A professional well-worth the fees the Empire was paying her, always proving useful during unorthodox missions such as these. "<<Roger that,>>" responded the Emperor. "<<Proceed to nearest overwatch point and provide fire support, but do not engage until we do,>>" he instructed her.

In the distance, he heard the roar, just as he felt it in his bones. He heard the worry in Vyra's voice as she tried to contact her friend. Reaching out for her, his taloned fingers closed around her delicate hand, a gentle, reassuring gesture as his gaze sought her eyes, giving her a firm, but not harsh, look, as if to tell her to steady herself.

Raising a closed fist, signalling to his troops that they were to halt their advance, the Sith Lord dropped to one knee, rifle held ready and eyes tracking the horizon, noticing Kerstan and signalling him over with military hand gestures which he had no doubt that the man knew. "Alright, listen up," he said, switching to Basic for Vyra's convenience. "We have movement bearing down on us from the south, confirmed sighting of dragon," the Sith Lord informed the group. "These things track their prey through the Force, so stealth will be unreliable at close ranges. Captain Drago, I want you and your men to fan out and take up positions in a wide semi-circle," he said, knowing that if they clustered together, the beast would incinerate them. No, they had to keep it distracted and confused, unable to lock onto any single target. "Aim for its legs and the joints in its wings, short, controlled bursts only. Vyra, I want you to stick close to the captain," he said to her.

Over in the distance, other roars answered the first, other nests awakened to the prospect of a meal, now finally aware of the intrusion into their hunting grounds. But they were not facing tribal raiders, or civilian convoys this time. No, this time they were facing the Eternal Army. And this was no longer the dragons' hunting ground.

From the siege lines in the rear, the roar of artillery rose to answer the roar of the beasts, gas shells whizzing through the air towards distant targets. Two, three, no, five salvos of ten-to-fifteen howitzers each, all aimed at different targets, off in the distance. Although too far away to see, the Sith Lord knew that now, formations of tanks and heavy vehicles would begin to advance, carrying swarms of soldiers towards their objectives, soldiers protected against the tranquilizer gas of the artillery by the vehicles and their vacuum-rated suits of armor.

The Sith Lord looked at his assembled group and nodded once. "Wait for my signal. I will draw the beast in," he said, advancing, alone. Up ahead, in the distance, a massive shape plodded its way over the snow, trotting forward at a lazy pace, confident. It spread out massive wings, massive white wings framing a body of the same color. A look of recognition crossed Tacitus' face. He knew this dragon, he'd read the reports, read about the terror and destruction it left in its wake, a beast formidable enough that the tribal raiders who sometimes braved this region, had given it a name: Augrim the White.

 

[Aaran Tafo]

At Viktor's goodbye, Aaran snapped the man a lazy salute. "And you as well Mask Guy. I also would recommend you to never try the Mon Calamari Surprise in Desh's Kitchen on Coruscant. Your bowels will not thank you." And with that irreverent series of words that technically constituted as a response to Viktor's farewell. Aaran turned his attention back towards Na'an one last time.

"Take care of yourself ." He said, nodding once. "If you're gonna wrassle another Dragon. I'd advise something a bit less intense than using a rope on it." He smiled slightly. "Or make sure you've got a few others to help you." He began to walk off giving her a two fingered salute as he made his way back towards his vehicle. "May the Force bring us together again some day." He called out, vanishing into the snow drift. Somewhat saddened to leave his new acquaintances. But figuring it was time he made his exit. He was not here to hunt any more dragons, nor did he wish to impose on the personal drama that was no doubt about to unfold.

He got what he came for and was content with that.

Pausing as he stood in the howling snow. Aaran placed a hand on his hip as he looked about. One hand coming to his chin.

Now if only he could remember where he parked the damn truck.

 

[Viktor Goetz]

"And you--" she rounded on Viktor for a moment, and this time the scowl was specifically for him and his stupid mask. "I'm not a VIP, and you calling me that is not helping."

Turning toward Adelle Bastiel and not sparing Vidalu Na'an a look while she spoke to him, Viktor stated formally, "The V.I.P. seems non-cooperative. Do you require assistance doctor? If you deem her unfit to continue, I could help escort her back to Wulfngard for further treatment."

As he stood waiting for Adelle's response, his earpiece suddenly emitted an urgent status report.

"Baron Goetz. Our reconnaissance unit has indicated the Emperor's contact with Augrim the White. In addition, the target you were seeking has appeared. The target seems to rapidly be approaching your location, sir."

Listening to the report, he was excited to hear more about the Emperor's encounter with Augrim the White, who was feared among the tribal peoples of Kalidan and a few Ultranauts told grand tales of its fearsome existence. But wait, the target was awake and present? The Tyrant dragon's roar must have awoken it. Shocked at the sudden turn of events, he looked at Na'an and Adelle for a brief moment before urgently asking, "How long?"

"Ten minutes and thirty two seconds, and counting, sir."

Mulling over the possibilities, he thought of the potential objectives the large, mutated dragon could have for coming to the ruins. Tyrant dragons were genderless, but maybe they had mates. No, that wasn't a possibility. Perhaps it was interested in consuming the capture? If that was the case, he had to encounter the mutant Tyrant dragon now and either slay or capture it. He lost the advantage of surprise, but perhaps he could use the captured Tyrant dragon as bait?

Looking over at Na'an and Adelle again, he stated, "I'm sorry doctor but I will have to step out for a moment."

 

[Kalic Daws]

Kalic soared over Kalidan in his fighter, Starcrest, targeting a couple of weaker airborne dragons ahead of him while Jee handled one coming at their tail, and the sounds of a Galactic Civil War era battle rang as TIE and Y-Wing engines and weapons worked in tandem to make the fighter deadly. This mission... this seemed way too easy. Kalic had dealt with blue milk runs before, and they never, never, were. He looked out, noticing another ship in the sky, one that had just been attacked by another dragon, a different one. Kalic looked back at Jee.

"Looks like they need some help. Hang on tight." The fighter rolled around, flying towards the new fight. The turret of the craft turned and locked forward, linking to the trigger of the main weapons. Kalic quickly pulled around, aiming the weapons before firing at the large creature, and opening up his comms. "Mind a little help with this one?"

Cero Pax