Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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In the Crossfire


Mandalorian Outpost
No matter their individual opinions, most every Mandalorian could agree that what had transpired on and above Myrkr had been nothing short of disastrous, regardless of the personal outcomes for each person. Her intentions going into things had been peace, and somehow the day had ended with three Imperial Star Destroyers in Mando'ade space, and innumerable casualties that they had only just begun to account for. The extent of the damages was unknown, but it was widely prospected that there were millions - perhaps billions - worth of credits in damage. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that this was a devastating blow to their infrastructure, and one they would be long in recovering from.

It was something Keira knew full well didn't have to happen, as every credit worth of damage had been preventable. That sort of havoc was just the kind she had been looking to stop before it even began, but in transferring communications and dealing with the business of an outsider who didn't know how to stay in line, she had been sidetracked. What had resulted was harsh words and even harsher consequences, what had taken place only cementing Mandalorian disdain for anything remotely Imperial and proving to her that the current leadership was apparently incapable of handling anything outside of their own jurisdiction.

And so she had approached the standing Mand'alor not with a request to speak, but rather a statement that she would be arriving to discuss all that had happened on Myrkr and the ramifications it held for their people. At this point in her life she was beyond asking permission for much of anything, and recent events had only shown her why that was a useless thing in the long run anyhow. Besides, with the hierarchy - or rather, lack thereof - the vode operated upon, her approach wasn't much of an issue. The words she had yet to speak might prove to be, but in Mandalorian society there was a fine line between free speech and disrespect she had learned to tread with the utmost precision.

Upon reaching the doors of the command center she paused, reaching up to remove her helmet and magnetically clip it at her waist, a sign of respect from one warrior to another. For the purpose of the meeting she had come unarmed, another demonstration of the trust between the two in that she was comfortable enough to find herself metaphorically defenseless in his presence, free of any true weaponry other than her own skill. Finally stepping through the doors she once again halted at a respectful distance behind the man, offering all of the proper respect she had neglected to grant in their previous interactions. "Su'cuy."

[member="Vilaz Munin"]
Recenr events that he and his followers encountered with made them motivated and angry. After the events that ufolded on Myrkr, they had found themselves a new enemy that had caused the deaths of countless and destroyed infrastructure as well deprecated the unique wildlife and fauna of the planet. There was a cry of vengeance and retribution, and the Munin was more than happy to give his followers the vengeance and justice they all deserved.

But Myrkr wasn't the only one. No, there was also Momastery as well. A group of galactic powers came together to form some pact or treaty amongst themselves; however, Vilaz would have none of that as the Galactic Empire showed their faces and brought that rat with them. All which concluded in the Mand'alor being escorted out of the meeting and barred from Monastery. Was he ashamed of his actions? He wasn't at all . They were not his people; they meant nothing to him; and that planet received indifference from Vilaz as it didn't held any cultural ties with the Mandalorians. In short, he lost nothing nor did he gain. He was not a sellout and wouldn't shake hands or even nod to the enemy of his people. That was almost like spitting on them and not caring for the damage they had endured:

But someone didn't share his beliefs which irritated him. He didn't expect his values be something everyone held in common, but he did expected those behind him not to ever associate with their foes with an olive branch, but with arrows and swords.

Within the command center there were holograms of plans and strategies being composed of Mandalorian tacticians and the likes. The Sole Ruler spent most of his time in the chamber and discussed things with his subordinates in regards of military operations.

But that would all come to a halt as a familiar person entered the room and greeted Vilaz. The Concordian turned to her and said, "Afternoon, Keira," he greeted back, continuing their dialogue with a, "Something I can do for ya?"

[member="Keira Ticon"]
"I would like to speak with the Mand'alor in private." As Keira spoke she looked to the few others assembled in the room, and after a few moments of hesitation those others began to disperse, hushed chatter and footsteps eventually giving way to a hushed silence that slowly washed over the room, enveloping both armored warriors in its cocoon. For a few moments she only stood there, finally stepping forward to place her helmet on the table, a gesture that indicated she intended to make more than a passing comment as if her request for all others to leave the room hadn't been enough. Turning to regard Vilaz she didn't speak just yet, instead searching for the proper words to say. There was no truly cohesive manner in which to get across all that she wished to say, but for her own part she would try.

Taking in a breath she exhaled slowly, finding it in herself to speak. "What happened on Myrkr and Monastery were nothing short of disasters, I think we can both agree." She spoke carefully, articulating each word in a way that meant she was for once thinking carefully on everything she said. "While the initial bombardment was perhaps unavoidable, further casualties were an unnecessary and preventable loss. We lost millions of credits in infrastructure, and lives that are irreplaceable. It's going to take upwards of a year for us to rebuild, but I'm willing to lead efforts to do so." It was what she had been doing before tragedy struck, and she only saw it fitting to continue the same into the future.

"Monastery was another matter. I do not need a lecture about tempers running high after what happened on Myrkr, because I am well aware just how you felt, perhaps even more so. I do not need you telling me a second time how I seemingly value the lives of the aruetiise over those of the vode, because I have never heard a more blatant lie spoken in my life. What I do need is for you to listen carefully." A beat passed. "You acted out of turn, and the way you represented our people was nothing short of asinine. There is no doubt in my mind that I saw better behavior when I still served among the Republic and their diplomats. If it comes to war with the Imperials - a war we cannot afford, might I remind you - those unnecessary lives lost fall on your shoulders, and nobody else's."

Everything she said was matter-of-fact, and she watched him evenly, knowing nothing about her voicing her grievances would be appreciated in the least. He had always been the explosive sort, though perhaps his anger would be more tempered now that he was among friends. Regardless, she was prepared for any reaction, though she wasn't quite done just yet. "I say nothing out of maliciousness towards you or the work you have done for our people, because I respect you as a warrior and a brother. But I want you to understand that all that you have done is prove to me that you are unfit to continue to lead." She met his eyes directly with the next words she spoke. "I challenge you, and only the strongest will rule."

[member="Vilaz Munin"]
He listened and didn't interrupted the Ticon's monologue; however, he disagreed with everything that she said save for the disaster on Myrkr. They were indeed two different minds that were just polar opposites with each other. Ever since the Imperial Officer bombarded Myrkr the first time, that was where the line was cross. Vilaz remembered Roche and how the Clans disrespectfully treated their fallen from the venting of Hadrix by signing some accords with them, and then they kept on being disrespected by the defunct Galactic Republic. No, the Munin wasn't like that. He didn't treat his fallen like nothing and just negotiated with the people that were responsible for it. What kind of Mandalorian would do that whether they held the mantle of Sole Ruler or not? That was not his way and would frown upon those that did.

It was why he admired his predecessor Ra. That force of nature didn't accept credits or meaningless objects to pay for all the Mandalorian blood spilled. It was irreplaceable and something that couldn't be paid with all the credits in the world. It could only be paid in blood and vengeance. The Mand'alor could care less about the infrastructure lost on Myrkr, but he did care for those lost on the planet.

Monastery was a whole different thing. That was the only moment, the only perfect chance to kill the man responsible for all that was done. He did not care of some rules made by some foreigners and certainly did not care how they viewed him and the Mandalorians. The Concordian honored his own first and foremost than others outside of the Mandalorian culture. So then why did Keira cared of others saw them? Vilaz saw her as a conformist and wished to please those that were not their people.

And then the final part. Keira thinking that he was unfit to lead and challenged him, but he was stable. He was neutral, but his sapphire eyes were lit with raging fire and unyielding rage, and observed Keira as if he was peering at her soul. He would without hesitance accept the challenge, but he had some words for the Ticon.

"The moment that the Imperials opened fire on us was when they crossed the line, Keira. I don't barter with those that have offered me or the rest of us harm. I am not like the ill Mandalorian diplomats at Roche that just treated our fallen with disrespect by signing a paper and receiving credits, thinking they can replace those that we lost."

He then slammed his helmet on the table at his side, "And no credit can buy me or your lives."

"As for Monastery, why do you care of how those foreigners see us? We are warriors and care for each other; we are not conformists or please people outside of our ranks just to like us. When I saw that rat that was my moment to bring justice to those on Myrkr, yet you wanted to have peace talks with him? If you, Isley, or anyone else died by his hands, you know damn well I would take whatever measures to bring justice that you guys deserved. That is family to me. I honor you and the rest of us more than some fething rules that I agreed to. Besides we have other potential allies that can help us."

He, of course, meant by the Sith Ascendancy and the Resurgent Empire. He had taken some mercenary work for them and was rewarded handsomely. Those factions were much more bountiful than a pact that included the man that Vilaz was hunting down.

"As for your challenge, I accept. I disagree with you thinking I am unfit, but I accept and we'll see who is right or wrong."

[member="Keira Ticon"]
To his credit he spoke calmly, and Keira afforded him the same patient ear, listening to all that he had to say in earnest. She meant it when she said she respected him, and despite the actions he'd taken that she found unsuitable for one of his position, she would continue to demonstrate that same age-old bond that connected every warrior within their people. No matter who held the title of Sole Ruler, he was one of her oldest friends among the vode, and deserved to be treated as such. That didn't, however, mean she would censor her words. To do so would be dishonest, and that was perhaps more a sign of disrespect than anything. And so when she spoke it was entirely genuine, something those outside their people were rarely privilege to.

"You speak of honor, and I respect that. But there is no honor in killing an unarmed opponent as you attempted with Irridius. It's not about caring for the opinions of outsiders, but about us being able to take our place at the seat of galactic power and taken seriously. Acting as you did on Monastery is not conducive to that. Regardless, that is neither here nor there, and I won't continue to press the issue. All I ask is that you take my words to heart more than you have been, just as I will yours." In contrast to the fire in his eyes there was a stone wall of determination that reflected in her own, one that assured she would do what she believed to be right in order to resolve the situation, even if that meant taking measures such as these.

Her helmet was lifted from the table and summarily clipped at her belt, and she inclined her head just slightly. "It would be wise to take this to the sparring circles. The command center is no place for this to be carried out." And so she departed to the proper venue, well aware of the looks she was receiving as the Mand'alor walked with her. Still, none followed the pair to their destination, something she was thankful for. Rare though challenges for the right to rule were, they weren't to be made a spectacle of. Though outsiders may have viewed their methods as crude, duels such as these were a central aspect to their culture and way of life.

Upon arriving at the sparring circles she began shedding the weight of the phrik plating that otherwise shielded her from harm, setting each piece aside until she was left in nothing more than her boots and the bodysuit beneath her armor. Two beskad lay in their sheathes on opposite sides of the arena, and without a word she took the weapon in hand and pulled it from its sheathe, testing the weight of a blade unfamiliar to her, though its design was identical to her own. Without a word she looked across to Vilaz, silently awaiting his preparations.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]
"And there is no honor with everything that you have stated."

He didn't see how killing an unarmed opponent, responsible for the many deaths on Myrkr had no honor at all. The many friends and families affected by that event, and yet Keira was lecturing him. Just as she saw him unfit to lead, he did the same. They shared the same culture, but their opinions and visions didn't attract each other; they only repulsed. And for that, he wouldn't take her opinions and words to heart nor could he understand how the Ticon had a mentality like that.

All of this would only make him fight for the crown with all his strength and willpower until it was all exhausted. Did he deserve the mantle? Not really, no one really deserved it; yet he did earn it and he would prove it again.

The two then walked throughout the corridors and hallways of the outpost, passing warriors before reaching the sparring center which was empty and alone save the two of them. The familiar scent and odor greeted his senses. There was some blood painted around it which was normal and typical. The warrior then began to strip off his armor plates from his figure until he was only in his bodyglove. The Munin came to his weapon, a beskad made of the blood and veins of Mandalore, and unsheathed it. He balanced it and swung his arms a couple of times to loosen up before coming to the mat.

He didn't say a single syllable from his mouth, but he did extend his arm with the blade in his hands, expecting and knowing that his opponent would respectfully clang it before their duel commenced.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
Stepping forward when he did the same, Keira reached out to knock her blade against his own, the metallic clash that rang out a sign that the duel that was about to commence was in good faith, and that any blood shed here today was between brothers, not enemies. This marked the third time the pair had clashed, and the first time they had done so without the intention to kill. No matter their opposing views, and regardless of the challenge that had been made, there was more mutual respect between them here and now than there had ever been in their years of knowing the other as nothing more than another target. But while they may have been brothers-in-arms, even the closest knit families had their disputes.

It was an alien feeling to be entering any sort of fight unarmored and sparsely armed, and she felt oddly exposed with only a beskad in her grasp. But just as she had in every other duel she'd taken part in, she would make do one way or the other. Having finished with testing the weight of the blade she finally stepped forward, opening with a simple flurry of strikes intended for his abdomen, the fight finally properly joined with her first move. Already this was far less deadly than any match she had previously taken part in, and yet there was more on the line than there ever had been before. Because this time she was fighting for not just her life, but the right to rule an entire culture as well.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]
When metal and metal connected and rung out in the sparring room, the Mand'alor readied himself in a fighting stance with his sword. His face displayed no emotions; however, showing a calm, neutral facial expression sometimes was an expression itself. It belonged to any warrior in any scenarios such as these. It was full on danger and confidence, a tactic that could hinder the courage of others and instill fear in them. His blue eyes looked at the Ticon and glared at her with menace. The Concordian's breath wast steady and fluid, and his heart roared with power and energy.

He would've indiscriminately done this to with anyone, not just her.

And when the first was made he reacted to it with intelligence.

As simple strikes were directed to his honed abdomens, he stepped back and blocked her attacks with a melody of clanging metal. The Munin wouldn't remain retreat and remain on the defense. He then stepped forward with the intention of intercepting her attack, turning his whole body starboard with the beskad deflecting a strike, and then used the momentum of his arms to send an elbow strike at the Ticon's chest favoring his right elbow. If successful, then a diagonal slash from left to right as his body pivoted forwards while stepping out with the left leg.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
A quick step backwards avoided the initial strike outwards with his elbow, and her beskad blocked his second cut. Keira allowed her blade to slide down his own, metal sparking until eventually the blades locked at the hilt. For a moment she let that remain, arms tense as she worked to hold the balance, getting a feel for just how his own weapon rested against her own. She waited for the invisible beat when he would anticipate her next move and chose the seconds after that in which to act, twisted her blade sharply where it locked against his in an attempt to disarm him or at the very least cause his grip to falter enough in order to give her an opening.

Without missing a beat she pressed forward with her first strike aimed for his shoulder, her intention to damage his dominant arm and force him to rely on his secondary limb for the remainder of the fight. Every nuance of the way she moved had the potential to cause real, lasting damage, but that was the point. The challenge in and of itself was a test outside of the title they were vying for, and a demonstration of trust in the other's skills above all else. If he knew what he was doing, any injury obtained wouldn't be grievous. If the strike did connect in full, it would become more evident who was fit to rule.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]
His skills with a blade longer than a knife were, truthfully, adept. They weren't proficient and needed much more practice to refine. He was disarmed from his weapon, but that didn't discourage him. Unarmed combat was something he preferred than armed combat and was proficient in it. It was something he was much more skilled than range combat. Mainly because he enjoyed to get up in someone's face and beat them with his own fists and legs.

When the Ticon made her attack Vilaz stepped forward again and made a high block with his right arm. While the block did stop the intentional attack it would cut at his skin and slice of some skin from his right forearm. Blood came out of him, but that wouldn't stop him.

His combination and technique was simultaneous. Following his block his left hand, with power and fury, would punch at her throat. But that wasn't all. His right hand would then punch at her face and then pivot to roundhouse kick at her chest to knock the wind out of her. He was inside her range and would make it hard for the beskad to be of any use when in close quarters.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
The second he closed the distance between them with his impromptu block that left him cut and bloodied, Keira let the beskad fall and kicked it aside, the blade having worn out its purpose. With her right forearm she blocked his first punch, pushing out and away in order to deflect the strike. Her left hand reached up to catch his right fist in the phrik palm, both actions leaving her in a position where his kick would be nearly impossible to block, though it all happened too fast for her to process regardless. When his third hit impacted she was forced to stumble back in order to maintain some semblance of balance, remaining doubled over for a few moments as she fought to regain her breath.

When she straightened she could already feel the bruises forming, a telltale tightness in her chest reminding her that she was indeed facing a warrior just as highly trained as herself. Given the distance between them traditional strikes wouldn't hit their mark, and so in those mere seconds of recompense she decided on a strategy. Feinting with a kick that didn't quite make contact, she spun into a backfisted strike with her left hand that was intended to impact with his chest in much the same manner his destabilizing strike had done.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]
In other scenarios he would've shown off some emotion in his face. Not today, however. The Munin's face was blank and neutral while his eyes displayed rage and intimidation. His arm stung from the damage dealt from he beskad, but when adrenaline kicked in it didn't feel that bad at all. It would get worse once bacta, medical alcohol, and whatever would treat the wound to cause more stinginess.

When Keira made her feinting kick he reacted by leaning backwards and then took the opportunity to intercept the Ticon again as he stepped and launched himself at her. The metal of her arm made contact with his which caused bruises and shortage of oxygen. But the attack wouldn't stop his momentum. A simple snapping kick aimed for her guts which would also if connected push her back to create distance between them. If successful, he would take a few mere seconds to recover his breathing rhythm.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
There were rare instances in combat when Keira was so immersed in the ebb and flow of the violence that she hardly controlled her own movements, instead operating purely on instinct. It just so happened that she settled into such a trance as their duel picked up its pace, having found that place within herself where everything about the battlefield was second nature. She recognized that her strike made contact insofar as the damage done to her opponent, but nothing more about it registered. Already she was calculating her next move in relation to how he reacted to the impact, and when he moved she did the same, their movements synchronous in the sense that they were two warriors moving to the same internal rhythm.

When he lashed out with a kick she reached up with her right hand as she turned to face him, attempting to catch his leg and wrench it upwards in order to unbalance him and land him on his back. Should that prove successful she would retrieve her beskad, leveling it at his throat. There was no deadly intent there, as he was still a fellow warrior, and she would cede just as soon as he did the same.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]
Her counter was successful, and the current Mand'alor lost balance and fell to the ground. In any given fight when one fell to the ground it was equivalent to death. For some of course believed that philosophy and Vilaz was one that agreed with it. He always tried to avoid being on the ground, yet that didn't mean he had no techniques when being on the floor. He trained under various of trainers and mentors, and incorporated their styles of fighting from hand-to-hand, to range combat into his very own style.

So when the beskad was leveled at his throats the fight wasn't really over. It was over for one that didn't know how to handle this situation. The Concordian jerked his head and pushed the sword, at its surfaced, away with his forearm. Then his legs, along with the rest of his body, maneuvered in a circular motion making arcs below Keira. This was intended to trip the woman from her footwork and nothing more. If successful, he would put some distance between them.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
For once in her life Keira had actually wanted to end things fairly bloodlessly, but if he wasn't going to give her that option, then so be it. When his kick connected it impacted her right side, the metal of her cybernetic right leg meaningless when he was utilizing gravity itself against her. That the strike connected where it did meant that her left arm - the dominant one, and the one presently holding the beskad - was free to move independently. As he no doubt turned himself to prepare to create distance between them she managed to angle her blade just enough as it moved in an arc when she fell, its path taking it directly towards the back of his calf as he readied himself to move. Should the blade connect in full it would likely shatter his shinbone at the very least, and even if he managed to avoid the worst of it the cut was no doubt debilitating.

Sometimes the deadliest blows were the least lethal, and while she hated to injure another warrior if it wasn't necessary, he'd given her no other choice.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]
The blade did find itself piercing his calf, but it didn't shatter his bone as the way how his body was when creating distance only tore muscles and released more blood out of his body. He yelled in pain, but with everything happening and all that adrenaline flowing he wouldn't stop. There was still fight in him, but how further could he go.

How much more could he go?

With his other leg he thrust kicked at Keira's face squarely. The first kick would be the strongest one of the series.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
Her grip released on the blade just as soon as it pierced its target, as the weapon had been reduced to near-uselessness until it was dislodged, which was a kindness she wasn't of a mind to grant. Not that Keira was given much time to consider such a thing, as almost instantly after he cried out in pain a boot connected squarely with her face, knocking her head back sharply. The only thing she could register in those next seconds was a crack and pain unlike any other as black spots flooded her vision, but she forced herself to remain conscious, vaguely assessing the damage done but leaving her concern for later. Blood pooled in her mouth but she ignored the taste of iron and the shards of shattered teeth she could feel in her mouth, the more pressing matter being continuing the fight to its end.

When his foot came back down for a second kick she reached up with her left hand, grabbing the limb and halting its progress easily due to the enhanced strength of the false appendage. With a sharp twist she pushed his leg upward, bending it quickly at such an unnatural angle in the hopes of breaking his ankle and bringing the fight to a close with abrupt, brutal speed and precision.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]

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