Letting Go... (Mandos and TSE)

[Ardasz Verd]

It was clear. The Sith had not simply decided to subjugate their people, but they wanted to eliminate their cities and rob them of the desire to fight back. For nearly two decades, the Sith and the Mandalorians had been at each other's throats with the machinations of the new Dark Lord culminating in an alliance. One that, under the former Mand'alor, had come to fruition.

But like a pack of predators, the moment one showed weakness, the rest would converge on them. That was how they had come to this point. Ardasz watched as the flames consumed Sundari from his vantage point out in the desert, a grim expression set on his features. This was the world where he was born. It was where his family lived, and not for the first time in his lifetime, he was seeing it reduced to ruin.

This time, it was the Sith.

It was to be the first time the Mandalorians lost control of their world. But they were just that- Mandalorians. And when it came to war, Mandalorians had a lot to say. Their message to the Sith would be perfectly clear.

[member="Faust Skirata"] [member="Mig Gred"] [member="Valdus Bral"] [member="Dezorath"] (and more)

[member="Darth Carnifex"] (and all of TSE)

 

[Karsan Munin]

The wayward son had come home.

The Masters he served burned his homeworld. His birthright, stolen by slavery and by war, stood at the epicenter of a conflict wrought by the negligence of a weak leader and a discouraged, once-proud people.

But there remained fire.

Traditions were not to preserve the ashes, but to keep the embers burning.

But today, the Mandalorians would burn everything so that the only thing the Sith would ever lay claim to was ashes.

They lacked the technology, the know-how, the expertise to do anything with their coveted Beskar- so Karsan was not worried of the ramifications of their precious metal. They could only produce cheap, shoddy armor or at best crude weapons. Nothing of value.

He stood next to his brother, [member="Ardasz Verd"].

"Look at all this. Ain't this what he wanted? And all he had to do was manipulate one little girl."

Karsan held his helmet in his right, and a heavy Slugthrower machine gun in his left. A cartridge belt was wrapped around the gun, and around his torso, over his neck. Karsan looked down, then back up to the Verd.

"People are so easy to forget."

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig walked over the ridge, tapping a couple of buttons on his wrist-plate before looking out. He almost couldn't believe what he'd seen. Destruction on a scale he hadn't seen since the Battle of Eshan, maybe Taanab. The Alor unhooked his buy'ce, clipping it to his belt as he closed his right eye. His left eye zoomed in, giving him a closer view. This was a mess.... Made him not want to go back to Concord Dawn. After the weapons that were brought to bare... there couldn't be much left. He looked to [member="Ardasz Verd"] and [member="Karsan Calnov"] , not know either that well.

"Let's stay focused on the task at hand. It's hard enough seeing this without thinking about what we're here to do. Fleet's ready to hit the shipyard, and can send precision strikes if need be." Mig quickly placed his helmet back on, and pulled out his Trayc'kad.

"I'm just going to assume no using the Force no longer applies."

Meanwhile in orbit, some of the remains of Gred Fleet had come to assist. Two Firebrinds, four Enigmas, and all seven Torrent-types sat at long range, hiding behind some debris to block the cruisers and frigates from scanners, while the Torrents simply kept their cloaks online. A Viper and Talon squadron joined the small fleet as well to provide some fighter cover.

 

[Karsan Munin]

"We're going to scrub the weakness that the Caderas wrought upon our planet."

He turned to the gathered company.

"We burn the memory of the United Clans of Mandalore from our history. They deserve all the same."

He sneered at the idea of the force.

"Look what the force has brought our planet. Destruction and death. And weakness, complacency. Now, the Sith dominion our sacred homeworld."

Karsan looked up to the sky.

"I say kill 'em all. If I had my way, all of the United Clans supporters would be hung until death."

[member="Reyn Australis"] l [member="Mig Gred"] l

 

[Darth Bellum]

Kor Vexen

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A short while ago...

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Sundari continued to burn as the Sith forces continued to further breach the domed city of Sundari following their initial offensive. With the arrival of additional Sith reinforcements, the fate of Sundari and by extension the fate of all Mandalorians that inhabited it was sealed. Vexen's interrogations and summary executions of the warriors he found had yielded a boon of information to him that he acted upon alone with the elite troops he had with him at present time. This included a small holdout of Mandalorians who had hidden themselves in secret underground routes that extended from the city to its outskirts known only to them.

Having worked his way to the location where this hideout was, Vexen had dispatched his covert units, the Nightseers, to recon and identify targets of value, while silently dispatching whatever sentinels may be keeping watch that would alert the Mandalorians of their arrival. Vexen had paused in his tracks in the darkness as he seemed to wait for something...Or perhaps someone. From the shadows above a Mandalorian warrior would drop down, believing he had an opportunity to land a surprise attack on the Sith General. A besk'ad would swing out in an attempt to cleave the Anzati though the Sith had been aware of the man's presence for some time, easily sidestepping it as the blade swung past, grabbing the wrist of the Mandalorian before casually swinging the man around as if he weighed nothing, sending him hurling into a wall where he would slump for a moment before falling forward to his hands and feet. The sheer force of the throw was enough to knock the wind out of him and disorient him heavily. He'd shakily attempt to get up as he used the besk'ad for support. By the looks of it, despite wearing a set of armor, the Mandalorian was young and inexperienced; he was no match for the vastly superior experience of the centuries old Sith. Despite this he still had the strength to muster up some defiant speech. " I am...Vaez Pokan...Son of Amaar Pokan, and I refuse to- Gack "

Vexen wasted little time in grabbing the teenager by the throat as he began to invade the boy's mind, siphoning his memories for knowledge. Sifting through memories from the boy's perspective, he would find one where he was conversing with his father, a man Vexen recognized from the memories of a Mandalorian sniper he had encountered on the surface, and the one he assumed to be the chieftan of the clan. The man would speak in a calm and soft spoken voice as their hand reached out to firmly grip the boy's shoulder. " Vaez...You are my eldest son...Please look after your younger brother and our family...I fear by the end of this, I will not be alive...So you must live on to lead the clan if I am to fall... " The boy struggled in his grasp, legs kicking uselessly at Vexen's armored body as he was lifted several feet off the ground, memories being torn from his mind as Vexen was now privy to the boy's knowledge. He now knew where those incapable of fighting were being hidden, and dispatched his Nightseers to secure them as prisoners. Several moments would pass as he held the boy in his grip, the kicking and struggling soon dying down until the boy hung limp in his grasp, having had the entirety of his life force drained from him and absorbed into Vexen. He'd let out a sigh before tossing the lifeless body off to the side, moving on to find the clan's leader.


Present time...

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A burst of static followed by a ragged voice speaking in Mandalorian tongue would pop up on a secure Mandalorian frequency " This is a message to any remaining warriors on Sundari. We have gathered what resistance we could to shore up a counter attack against the Sith at these coordinates. If you have any fight left in you, rendezvous with us to push back and fight. " The message would end as the voice behind it clicked off the comms. They would look off to their right as a towering armored figure stood over him, the helmeted visage of Vexen's gaze upon them. He would grunt as he spoke through clenched teeth, " I have done what you asked of me... Now release my family and clan..."

Vexen stared at the man as his vocoded voice spoke in a calm manner, " When I was sent to burn your city...I did expect a challenge, but I was met with varying degrees of...disappointment. Suffice it to say I know there are some among you worthy to call yourself Mandalorian warriors. You, however have gone soft...Become weak and complicit with the teachings of your former Mand'alor...You are by extension a blight upon your own people's culture. " Vexen would turn his body to reveal behind him a row of men, women and children on their knees with his Dragoons standing behind them, weapons drawn before his vocoded voice continued, " You have betrayed those ideals by surrendering the moment your loved ones were captured and held at gunpoint...Rather than fighting till the bitter...bloody...end. I will grant you this mercy and offer you a chance at staying your family's execution. Your life for theirs. "

Vexen would casually kick over an object on the ground, a blaster sliding into view in front of the head of the clan. The man would stare at the blaster before looking to Vexen, a glint of defiance and rage in their eyes. " Surely you jest! A Mandalorian is to die in ba- " Vexen's vocoded voice would cut him off as he spoke in a cold tone, his hand lifting up with his fingers slightly curled. The youngest amongst the captured prisoners, a boy of five years old would suddenly be lifted as they began to suffocate with tears in their eyes, " Do I look like the type of individual to jest? " Vexen looked down upon the man as they shouted out for mercy " Release my son! Please! " The chieftan would scoop the blaster off the ground as he held it to his own head. At that time Vexen would relax his fingers as the invisible hand that held the young boy's throat released the child to the floor. The man would let out a quiet sigh as he closed his eyes before speaking with in a solemn tone, " Ne ad...Udesiir...Ni dinu- " A blaster shot was heard as Vexen made a simple wave of his hand, using the Force to pull the trigger before the man could finish his final words. A Mandalorian that would deign to take their own life for the sake of loved ones was a pitiful sight that he could not stomach. Another wave of his hand would signal his troops to execute the survivors as they were subsequently put out of their misery and shame. Vexen would fade into the shadows with his troops awaiting the arrival of any Mandalorians that might come.

With the message sent to whatever remaining Mandalorians willing to put up a fight, his task in drawing out those worthy to him was complete. He would find the wolves among the sheep; those that would bare their fangs and tear out the throats of their enemies, because only they would be the ones worthy enough to inherit the fallen culture and return it back to its former glory. Perhaps then, they would become worthy prey.

[member="Ardasz Verd"] / [member="Karsan Munin"] / [member="Reyn Australis"]​