Faction On Broken Wings (MU)

[Kreslin Westwind]

The fleet that arrived in the Mandalore system was a motley bunch. Outdated freighters, scraped together cargo haulers and small civilian transport craft, several of which bore the still fresh marks of combat. They were escorted by four Liberation Class Star Destroyers, as well as several squadrons of A'den Class Starfighters, flying in tight formation around the flotilla. In some cases, civilian ships had to be towed in using tractor beams. When the fleet finally arrived in orbit above Mandalore, transport craft began to ferry those aboard the fleet down to medical camps spread out across the surface of Mandalore.

Since the liberation of the world by the Mandalorian Union, the Mandalorian people had slowly begun to move from these temporary camps into the cities and towns being rebuilt across the surface. Before the fleet had arrived, many of these camps were on the verge of being shutdown. Now, they had a new wave of life poured into them, as medical personnel and security forces rushed around the camps, getting everything they could ready as the first transports began to break through the clouds above.

​

Kreslin walked through the camp slowly, his helmet covered eyes taking in the scene around him. Hundreds of people, dozens of species, all gathered into this small camp. Many had wounds, covered in whatever material they could find aboard their fleet, while others were just now beginning to get proper medical treatment from Union medics. In some cases, the simple care was the first treatment the person had received in weeks, if not months for some of the older ones. Kreslin walked past one family, and almost paused in his steps when he saw a Union medic applying fresh bandages to a child's head. He turned his head away from the scars he had seen underneath, and continued his walk.

He had hoped to never see something like this again. His people had suffered, but they had begun to recover. They lived in cities again, instead of broken hovels. They enjoyed the freedoms of a home, a planet again, while those around Kreslin now had experienced only the hulls of starships for weeks. Those around him were not his people, the ones he had pledged to defend and die for, but his heart still ached at what he saw. These people were survivors of the Bryn'adul, extergalactic invaders who had come to destroy all life that was not their own. This particular fleet of survivors had come from some of the Bryn'adul's most recent conquest's, and had fled towards Silver Jedi Concord space, only to send a message to the Union, asking for asylum and protection. They had heard of the great war waging around the galaxy, and asked for a place in one of the few locations that had not taken up arms in the recent weeks against their neighbors. Kreslin had accepted their request, and sent the small squadron of vessels to escort them safely here.

Coming around a bend in the camp, Kreslin came face to face with two Supercommandos, standing guard before a low hanging tent, roughly two meters in height. They saluted briefly as he stepped past them, and into the command tent for this camp. Several leaders from the civilian fleet were present in the tent, and they quickly rose to their feet from the chairs they had been provided as Kreslin entered, his grey and red armor standing in stark contrast to the browns and yellows of the tent. Others were present there as well, members of the Mandalorian Union who had personally come to aid the refugees. Kreslin had asked them all to meet in the tent, so that they could hear the story of the refugees for themselves.

It was not going to be an easy day.

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

War, it was a thing that would never disappear from the galaxy, some way to shape someone fought another over something. They fought over food, water, medical supplies, land, space, and even small things as grudges, as long as sentient beings existed so would war. That is where the other side comes in that balances it out, where their is war there is compassion from outsiders, those who would heal the wounded, feed the hungry, and if so be they would intervene and eliminate the threat

Years of war for stardust had shown both sides to her. She saw the recieving and giving end of it all and vowed to help those in need that were the victims, above the planet the freighter imahalyan came out of hyperspace flanked by two vong carriers. The vong had been one she had misunderstood for years until she came across one that she had fought brutally and soon earned their respect and now was allied to the dragon herself. Within the hangar bay stardust boarded a shuttle as the door closed behind her, there was a bit of rocking as it lifted up and then soon it smoothed out as the darkness of space took them while they raced towards the surface. Her new armor still shined slightly as she had yet to find herself in battle yet, frowning she grunted and stood as she grabbed a hand rail when they entered atmosphere and slowed down towards a landing zone within the camp, she hopped out and turned to the pilot and spoke

instruct them to begin offloading all the cargo, I want food items first priority then raw goods

With that she grabbed her helmet and put it on, the lekku armor clicked as she started on a path through the camp, glancing about as she had seen this many a time and it made her numb...but yet it tore at her heart that this was a scene shes seen many times. Spotting the tent she wa stold about she looked to the two guards and flashed her medallion before she ducked inside and stood up straight as she nodded to Kreslin Westwind , a man she had come to highly respect, someone she would follow to the end as she had he last mand'alore

I've got the food items on their way down mand'alore, should have everything off in 2 hours

 

[Adi'ka Awaud]

Adi´ka Awaud was not rich to sponsor a cargo transport by herself nor was her clan of nomads. But at least she could fly escort for the convoys with her overpowered little gunship the "Parsniper Mork".
Little helper were better than no helper at all.

Later on the planet this was more than true as she beheld the two meters tall primates of the supercommandos. She felt even smaller compared with this wet dreams of a sith gene engineer. "Bigger targets and the bigger they are the harder they fall", the Lepi mumbled to herself. Perhaps a precognition. The MU has become too soon much bigger than the small collection of clans could handle.

But at least she saw a woman with similar extensions of the helmet like her own.

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Location: Mandalore
Time: 11:26
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Objective: Take a rest


Before the refugee ships had descended from the sky above, Kranak was resting in a local cantina. He decided to return to Mandalore after a recent bounty he completed in the Core Worlds. He had been in Mandalore for a few days now. He had been browsing the contract board for the next gig as he sat at a corner table in the cantina, next to a window. He had not come across a worthwhile contract. Some of them paid well, but he was not really in it for the money in most of the jobs he took. He either took them to keep himself occupied or he took them to test his mettle against worthy opponents. He felt like his bounty hunting career had entered a stage of stagnation. He lowered his head with a sense of worry and zoned out looking at his datapad. Maybe there just were not any worthwhile jobs in the contract board, he thought to himself. Or maybe he was the problem. Maybe he was not strong enough, maybe he lacked the experience. Maybe, he was not ready yet to take on more dangerous contracts. Could that be the reason why he wasn’t seeing more dangerous tasks in the contract board? He wasn’t sure which one was the truth.

He lost his train of thought as he heard several large vehicles traversed down the street, heading out the city. He looked through the window to see they were large transport vehicles. A few had carried medical emblems, the sign of Baar’ur. He was intrigued now. He was not sure what was going on. It appeared to him as if they were dispatching aid to a large group of individuals. Had they been attacked? Could it have been the Graug? Maybe they attacked a settlement and the convoy he saw was the relief force. Whatever it was, it could have been something to let his hair down for a bit, get occupied with something worthwhile. He put his datapad to his large black pouch and got up from the table he was seated at and made sure to leave a small tip for the establishment and headed out into the street.

He signaled one of the transport vehicles to stop with his right hand, indicating he wanted to catch a ride with them. A transport vehicle bearing the sign of Baar’ur had stopped, thankfully. He saw several Mandalorian medics as he ducked to enter the rear compartment of the vehicle through a medium sized hatch. The compartment was well lit, but it was a bit cramped for him due to his size and weight. The back side of the compartment featured several crates that appeared to be containing medical supplies. The compartment near the hatch he came through featured about fifteen seats. Most of them were occupied by the medics but a couple of them were empty. He gave the medics a slight nod of the head as he sat down on one of the empty seats. [“So, what’s all this fuss about?”] He asked. The passengers as well as Kranak rocked a little as the transport vehicle started to speed up after sealing its hatch. A medic sitting across him answered his question. [“Refugees. Their ships made planetfall about twenty minutes ago, about five clicks away from the city.”]

<Refugees? What are they doing here in Mandalore?> He thought to himself. The Medic continued. [“We’re the second wave that has been dispatched to help them out. There are a number of medics in the refugee camp sites, but we’re bringing in the bulk of the necessary equipment to treat their wounded.”]

Kranak gave a slight nod of the head to The Medic’s response. [“The Mand’alor is at the scene, as well.”] The Medic continued. <The Mand’alor?> He thought to himself. He was surprised. <This must be serious if The Mand’alor himself was at the scene.> He spoke after a short pause. [“Where have the refugees come from? Do you know?”] He inquired to The Medic. The Medic’s response was unsatisfactory. [“I don’t know. Though as far as I’ve heard over the commlink, they’re in a bad shape.”]

[“What’s the frequency?”] Kranak inquired. [“177.6, Channel 9.”] Replied the Medic. He punched in the numbers using his wristlink to hear what was going on. There was not a lot of chatter going on, but a few voices started to give sitreps to their superiors. There was a lot of wounded at the refugee camp by the sound of it, with various wound types. Some weren’t treated for weeks. <Seems like we’re going to have a field day in our hands.> he thought to himself, with a sorrowful grin. His facial expression was hidden underneath his helmet. He rested his head against the armored panel behind him and closed his eyes, waiting out the trip to the refugee site as he listened to the occasional radio chatter.

---
Location: Mandalore, Refugee Camp
Time: 11:56
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Objective: Dispense Medical Aid to Refugees

The transport vehicle gently rocked as it came to a halt. <We must’ve arrived at the camp.> he thought. He glanced at the other medics. They were preparing to disembark. The hatches on the sides and the rear opened, with their ramps extending downwards to the ground. [“Alright, we're here. Let’s unload the equipment.”] Said one of the medics. Kranak stood up to help, but he forgot the compartment was a bit too small for him as he hit his head on the armored ceiling above. A short metallic clang echoed in the compartment, followed by his sigh. He ducked his head and made his way to the crates and helped the medics unload the supplies.

The unloading process did not take too long with his help, he could easily lift the medium and large sized crates as if they were nothing. With the last crate unloaded, he jumped out of the transport vehicle's side hatch, and looked around.

There was a lot of tents with different shapes and sizes around them. They mostly appeared to be tattered, and dirty. Same thing could be said for the clothing of their inhabitants. And the look of their faces… He could easily tell by the look of their faces that they’ve been through some serious shab. Their facial expressions were jaded, and some were stricken with grief. But they managed to smile at them, at the Mandalorians. They appeared grateful for their aid.

He turned towards the group of medics to his right after glancing at his surroundings. They were in a rather open area. It looked like it would suit a Field Hospital. [“We could erect a Field Hospital here. Ample room for it. We’re in a good spot.”] Kranak spoke. The medics agreed with him as they nodded at his comment. He helped them set up the Field Hospital by setting up the tent poles firmly and nailing down the pegs sturdily.

The tent was set up under ten minutes. Not too shabby! They got the medical equipment into the tent afterwards. They were open for business. A small -but growing- crowd had circled around the tent by the time the tent was set up. They started to take in patients as they had just finished putting down the folding gurneys.

Tags: Kreslin Westwind | Stardust Solus Skirae | Adi'ka Awaud

 

[Eliz Krayt]

It was another chance to see Mand'alor in business. Doing his thing. That's all Eliz cared about as he snuck after Kreslin Westwind with his 'borrowed' stealth generator. His dad wouldn't mind, right? Probably not. That's all it was supposed to be about, at least. Yet he found himself face to face with far more damage than he thought possible. To children and adults alike. He lost track of the Mand'alor as he walked through countless injured.

The stealth field faded as he went, the look of horror clear on his face. No, this wasn't right. Who could of hurt people like this?

 

[Marimax Mortui]

Gear:
Trauma and Blackout
Rapture
XX
​

​

Many seasons had passed since Marimax last walked upon the planet of his birth. His parents, no fault of their own, had no real culture to speak of. They were merchant traders, making their fortunes transporting goods and people from one side of the galaxy to the other. When his parents had finally settled on Mandalore, they had exchanged transporting for agriculture. So it was only a matter of time that the Mandalorian culture would seep it's way into a young Miramax's heart.

The homecoming was not a pleasurable sight.

Refugee camps, makeshift medical outposts, and poorly crafter bazaars with limited supplies dotted most of the landscapes outside the cities. People where finally moving back inside the cities, clinging to a hope that each one could be rebuilt; and find a means to sustain the people desperately trying to find safe and proper accommodations.

Marimax, upon his arrival, first paid his respects to the graves of his parents. It was, he truly accepted, a blessing they had departed before facing the horrors of war and suffering. The home of his parents lay in ruins. Sitting back on his knees he hung his encased head low, whispering prayers and asking his parents for forgiveness. The last time they spoke, it was a memory he wished he could erase, or have attempted to rectify before their deaths. It was far to late to make amends, but it wasn't to late to help his people.

Walking with confident steps, his head forward but his eyes observing the downtrodden images of the people, he moved through one of the camps. His posture held only one definition; that the revenge of Mandalore was carried on his shoulders. The Supercommando of Clan Mortui would make those suffer ten-fold for what evil they brought to his home. As he strolled through the camp, he looked about to physically give aid to those in need. Revenge, naturally, needed to wait.

"I can take a look at it," he said to an elderly gentleman and his grandson who stood next to a broken down hovervan with painted looks of confusion on their faces. The old man smiled and nodded his thanks and gratitude. Revenge, naturally, would need to wait. First, it was time to start the healing process.​

 

[Samantha Jade]

It wouldn't be the first time that for what it's worth Sam had to somewhat try her best to make good use of quite a bit of the skill. She'd learn and had been passed down to her by father in try bring down a ship with a lot more. Then maybe a few screw loose or suffering a pot shot or two but then again this for her was a first...for instead. Having some irate gangster nip at her heel for some damage cargo or lateness of her arrival. She instead had a deal with a ship full of the poor soul that just seem lucky to be alive. That is even though quite a few they had if nothing else been dealt quite a harsh hand escape the carnage that was the conflict they all but hopefully left behind.

As in the back of her mind, the memories still ached to have seemed to burn itself into her thought....of how just when she thought all was lost. Someone came to help her get her out. Help her get to ship in time in order to escape thought not without its consequence as in the midst of it all. Her rescuer....someone she'd never met before deck out in an armor sacrificed himself. So they could escape and soon after set her into a new path...as she searched far and wide for her rescuer kin. In order to return an item of his to them that in turn lead her here...ferry refugees in her ship to safety.

 

[Mig Gred]

Tags: Kreslin Westwind Stardust Solus Skirae Adi'ka Awaud Eliz Krayt Marimax Mortui Samantha Jade

Mig sat aboard one of the pair of Tal-Type corvettes he had offered to assist with helping the refugees coming in. The medical corvettes were escorted by a quartet of the new Dinii-class craft, keeping them safe from any sneaky pirates that thought that the Mandalorians would just roll over right now. Mig would look out as the pilots brought the Tal-types in for landing. He looked, hearing the Dinii-class reporting they would land a military post. The Alor would let the pilots handle that part as he left for the loading ramp.

Mig would walk out slowly, seeing the freighters beginning to land as well. He took a breath, running up to be sure everything was ok. The medics would get the supplies ready, he had to meet with the others. He would walk through, looking down slightly as he saw everything. It reminded him of Taanab after the Sith invasion. It was.... It was too close. He rubbed his helmet as he walked towards the tent, sighing a little.

"It's... been a long time since I've seen something like that. What happened to all of them?"

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Location: Mandalore, Refugee Camp, Field Hospital

Time: 12:36

Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-

Objective: Dispense Medical Aid to Refugees

Spoiler: Mood Setter

Kranak had just finished patching up a young human male. He had lacerations starting from his left upper shoulder to his right lower midriff. Thankfully, the wound was not too deep. There were signs of infection as well. <Figures.> He thought to himself. The refugees were just now getting medical attention. They clinged to life for weeks in space, with nobody to give them medical care. Those patients who could be discharged from the Field Hospital after their treatment was done were dismissed to make way for the other wounded. But there were still a lot of refugees that required medical attention. There was a large crowd of refugees outside, waiting for their turn. Thankfully, they did not need to wait too long. The medical personnel, as well as Kranak was working as fast as they could to dispense medical aid to everyone in need.

He quickly scrubbed himself again after he was finished treating the young man. His next patient was a middle aged, red skinned Togruta female with varying degrees of burns on her chest and right arm. Despite the tattered and dirty clothing, as well as her wounds, she was still a beautiful creature. She was lying down on the gurney, squirming in pain. After he approached to her gurney to heal her wounds, he applied anesthesia to ease her pain. He had to remove parts of her clothing, pieces of jewelry and any other objects that covered the burn for treatment before he could apply bacta patches on the first- and second-degree burns. He could see the bacta soothed her, easing the pain further.

But alas, what came after would be more painful. She had multiple third degree burns on her right arm. From her bicep to her brachio-radial. [“This will hurt a bit.”] he warned the Togruta as he took out his laser scalpel and started to remove the burnt skin on her right arm. Thankfully, she was under light anesthetics, so she didn’t feel too much, aside from the unnerving feeling of her dead skin being peeled away. Her short gasps and weeps were gut-wrenching to him. He tried his best to lightly peel it off and remove the dead skin with his tweezer. He did not have a light touch, but in due time he would get there. Kranak was experiencing sorrow and anger at the same time during the process. He felt sorry for her and these people as well as their current condition. But he was furious towards who -or what- drove these people from their homes. There was no honor in harming those who could not defend themselves. Those who could not fight back. To him, it was a cowardly act to harm such individuals.

However, he did not know where these refugees came from. He considered talking to the Togruta female as he was healing her. He thought she could use a distraction from the process. She kept glancing at her right arm as he continued to peel off the dead skin off her arm. <Could start with a name.> He thought to himself. [“So… what’s your name?”] He inquired as he removed a small chunk of charred skin. She let out a short gasp as he did so, but she replied afterwards. “Shesha. Shesha Lewu.” She muttered, her eyes looking at her right arm still. <So, her name is Shesha. That is a start.> He thought to himself. [“I would recommend looking at my faceplate or somewhere else throughout the peeling process.”] he recommended. [“The name’s Kranak.”] he continued. [“Shesha. That is a nice name. So, Shesha, what planet are you from?”] he spoke, after a short pause. He removed another chunk of charred skin when he paused. She groaned slightly as he did so, but it was short. She was looking at his faceplate now. That was better. “I’m… I’m from Saleucami.” She spoke. He could feel the sorrow in her heart when she spoke the name of her home world. Saleucami was at the edge of Kessel Sector. That was Bryn’adûl territory. <Why didn’t the refugees seek shelter in The Silver Jedi Concord territory?> he thought to himself. They could have been safe there, as well. But maybe the refugees wanted to be as far away from the Bryn’adûl as possible, and maybe that is why they came to Mandalore.

He decided not to continue talking about her home world any longer. He did not want to remind her of what happened there, to her and possibly her loved ones. He continued peeling the dead skin with his laser scalpel. The process would take some time. He tried his best not to cause more pain to her, but at the same time there were more patients he needed to heal.

After about twenty minutes, he neared the end of the treatment process on her. He gently applied synthflesh that matched her skin color on her third-degree burns he had peeled off with laser scalpel. And that was it. The healing would not leave any scars, thanks to the healing properties of bacta. It did wonders and worked really well against… well, anything, really. As he stood up to clean the medical waste, he heard Shesha’s voice. “Thank you.” She said, with a warm smile on her face. [“You’re… you’re welcome.”] he replied. [“You’re good to go. Try not do move around too much for a day or two.”] He handed her a short strip pack of Symoxin. [“Take one tablet a day until you no longer feel the pain, on a full stomach.”] He instructed. [“I must go. There’s more wounded that requires medical attention.”] He said after a short pause, as he turned away from Sesha to change his gloves. He was impressed with the attitude of the refugees. They managed to smile after all they've been through. That impressed him.

As he looked around, he glanced at his surroundings. There were several refugees on the foldable gurneys receiving medical attention. Some of them had IV tubing inserted into their arms, with the tubing attached to Plasma IV bags on the stainless steel IV stands. Often, they were triage code yellow, but there was several triage code red. There had not been any triage code black yet. He hoped that it would stay that way. The crowd around them was not getting any smaller for now, as well. There were a lot of people that needed help, it seems.

He moved on to the next patient. It was a middle-aged human male this time. He was clenching his left arm with his right hand. The clothing under his right hand featured large spots of dried blood. Could be a compound fracture he thought to himself. He gave a short sigh. <It’s going to be a long day.> He thought to himself as he sighed, before he motioned the man to approach him for medical aid with his right hand.

Tags: Kreslin Westwind | Stardust Solus Skirae | Adi'ka Awaud | Eliz Krayt | Marimax Mortui | Samantha Jade | Mig Gred

 

[Samantha Jade]

tag: Mig Gred Kranak Vizsla

It was then as she then seems caught sight of the horizon up ahead that Sam couldn't help let out a faint sigh of relief. As for once, it seems they were heading for the home stretch so to speak for up ahead. Appear a faint glimmer of hope as one by one the other corvette type ship she'd found herself following thus far lead them to what she'd hope was sanctuary was up ahead. At which time with what bit of resolve she had left that Sam did her best to even the ship out as one by one the ships landed with hers in tow.

That no sooner had the ship landing gear hit the ground that she then came rushing out to open the back cargo door. As one by one those huddled in her ship cargo hold slowly disembark. While leaving behind others that couldn't or were unable to of their own accord were soon assisted out. As from up ahead.... came others. Some if not most seemingly deck out in fairly similar armor or gear as the one that came for her. To which feeling loss thought no less determined she came to approach one who seems as close to speaking with ( Mig Gred ). As she looked back and noted someone come out her ship notion her for help.

" ....there someone on my ship that I need help with if you could....."

 

[Marimax Mortui]

Gear:
Trauma and Blackout
Rapture
XX​

"No, no I can't accept it," Marimax said to old man who repeatedly offered him food in return for fixing the old man's broken down vehicle. "Save it for you and your kin. I need no payment for doing what is only right."

And it was true.

It wasn't just Mandalore that was struggling, but the galaxy as a collective was feeling the stings and bites of countless wars. And it wasn't just Mandalore that had displaced citizens from other worlds seeking refuge and safety, etching out a conquest of rebuilding what was stolen from them. Marimax could easily cast the finger of blame, wagging it back and forth in the faces of elected officials or the monarch governments; or thrusting a pointed finger into their chests for not protecting those properly against the evils of the universe. He could easily believe in their failures. But that solved nothing. It was a single opinion of one man.

"You....you come back later," the old man saying, placing a four credits into Marimax's palm, closing the big Mandalorian's hand over it. "My grandson and I, we are excellent farmers! Best in the galaxy! Ah ha....now best for all of Mandalore! Yes...yes, you seek us in a months time. We fill your belly with the best!"

Hand slightly above his head, he waved toward them as they drove off; wearing a hidden smile from ear-to-ear. Two steps later into his continued pilgrimage through the refugee camp, he dropped the four credits into an outstretched tin of a blind young girl; adding fifty more of his own.
​

 

[Kreslin Westwind]

Kreslin nodded to Stardust Solus Skirae as she entered the command tent, a small smile crossing his face. The Mandalorian Union's sole Battlemaster, for now anyway, had come to be a stabilizing presence within the Union, and he had been able to put some trust in her. They had begun work on a project the woman had great interest in recently, and he hoped to see it come to fruition before long. What the potential organization could bring to the Union would be without a doubt a great benefit, especially for what the Mand'alor had planned.

Kreslin brought his hand up to his helmet, tapping the side of it briefly in a show of thanks to Stardust. "My thanks, Battlemaster. There is certainly a need for those supplies this day..." His words drifted off as Mig Gred approached, followed by Samantha Jade from her vessel. Kreslin nodded to the Alor of Clan Gred, another individual he had come to value. The warrior and leader had lead great efforts on Concord Dawn to help rebuild, and several thousand Mandalorians had been able to move to that settlement, allowing Kreslin to free up resources for the rest of the Union's limited worlds.

"The Bryn'adul, my friends. All that you see around you, have been wrought at the hands of the extragalactic invaders." Turning, Kreslin walked across the tent to shake hands briefly with a weathered old man, a freshly bandaged gash across his head still slightly visible. Kreslin had spoken with everyone of the refugee leaders in the tent already, and he knew their stories. He went down the line, allowing each individual to introduce themselves, and give a brief summary of what had happened to their worlds. Kreslin waited for them all to finish, before turning to look at the warriors assembled before him.

"The Bryn'adul...they have done all of this. Worlds have been destroyed, entire cultures have been wiped from existence, and innocent lives have been lost and families driven from their homes." Kreslin came around the table, completing his circuit of the tent and resting a hand on a second, smaller table placed to the side of the tent. "Like us, these people have had their families slaughtered by an enemy they could not hope to fight alone. Like us, they were driven from their homes, and forced to flee into a galaxy consumed by nations driven by personal and ideological wars that left them out on their own." Kreslin paused for a moment after he spoke, attempting to calm the welling anger he felt just beneath the surface of his mind.

He did not fully succeed, and in a brief moment of lost control, he brought his armored fist down in a quick arc, smashing the small table in half and sending the contents scattering across the floor. "This galaxy has failed them, like it failed our people. But we have a chance to make a difference..." Kreslin's words drifted off as he looked out through the open tent flap, at the scattered refugees milling around.

"We must make a difference."

 

[Ki'an Vizsla]

The level of destruction brought by the Bryn'adul knew no bounds. They had slaughtered billions and displaced many more, leaving the affected in a situation the Mandalorians could empathise with. The honourable warriors were duty-bound to assist victims where they could and today was that day. Masses of refugees swarmed the planet looking for medical aid and shelter. It was an intimidating sight for the medic who hadn't had to deal with such a large scale of casualties at once but he was reminded of the team of medics that accompanied him as he heard their chatter over the commlink.

After a chaotic couple hours of triage assessment, the medics were working effectively as a team to ensure those who needed help first got it. The walking wounded were waiting their turn outside, some injuries were superficial enough to be treated by any Mandalorian with common sense, but there were a few overflow patients who had been tagged yellow, indicating they required more urgent assistance, one of whom Ki'an was kneeled beside near the entrance of the field hospital.

The man had been on pain relief for a while but it soon became apparent that they had administered it too early as the man's sluggish reactions suggested they had not properly understood the extent of his injuries. "Sir, can you hear me?" The Mandalorian asked the man who seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness and didn't respond other than with a groan so Ki'an opened the man's eye and ran a light across it to check for pupil reflexes which he reacted to slowly.

The Mandalorian peeled back the bandage that had been administered to his side earlier but the extent of the wound didn't equate to his current state so Ki'an could feel his own heart getting faster as he suspected he knew the cause of the man's sluggishness: blood loss. It wasn't a result of the blood they could see, which was less than a unit, but the blood they couldn't see. Ki'an grabbed the man by the shoulder and rolled him onto his side, prompting him to cough up blood and confirming the medic's suspicions.

Over the commlink, medics were conversing to work together and provide the most effective treatment but the line went silent as soon as Ki'an interrupted. ::Red. Code red. This man is bleeding internally. He needs surgery now.:: He told the other medics. The usually friendly medic turned stoic and serious the moment the heat was on. "You-" He pointed towards a Mandalorian who was assisting those with minor injuries. "-Help me carry this man inside." To which the other Mandalorian quickly jogged over and stood at the man's head, ready to lift his end of the stretcher.

"Are you human?" He asked the man quickly while he had the chance. It seemed a ridiculous question to ask the human form who was lying in front of him but there were plenty of near-humans who were not identifiable by looks alone and their blood was incompatible with human blood. "H... hapan." He replied between coughs. The information concerned the Mandalorian as they had an abundance of humans and human blood but doubted there was an abundance of Hapans among them. Ki'an first addressed the issue of preparing the man for surgery by adding an IV line into his vein.

A medic waited expectantly behind him, waiting as backup. Ki'an stood up and faced the medic behind him, whose presence he had been aware of. "Take him inside, I need to find a blood donor." He told her. She nodded in response and quickly complied, leaning down with the man at the other end of the stretcher to carry him inside. He walked over to the crowd who were determined to have minor injuries and shouted across the group. "Is anyone here Hapan?" He asked and after a moment of tension, rather unexpectedly, one of the Mandalorians applying bandages to someone's arm turned around and spoke up. "I am." He replied, stopping what he was doing to see what the medic wanted.

"Come with me." Ki'an told him, which he soon complied with by weaving through the crowd of people sitting and followed the other Mandalorian to the hospital. "You need to give some blood for a Hapan man." He told him, not giving an option. Had one of the civilians spoken up, he would've asked if they would donate blood but since it was a Mandalorian it was his duty to help the man and he seemed to think so too as he nodded in response. "Ok." He replied as he removed his vambrace and rolled up his sleeve in preparation for having his blood taken.

With the situation inside, there was no area to sit down and relax so the medic directed the other Mandalorian to the bed of someone who had just been discharged which he sat at the foot of. "Wait here." Ki'an told him as he rushed to find a bag and needle which was soon handed to him by another medic who had heard the situation from other team members. He thanked her and quickly returned to the purple-clad Mandalorian who was waiting for him. Despite being on edge, the medic retained a remarkably calm demeanour and his hands were steady enough to perform the procedure.

He waited impatiently for a few minutes for the bag to fill before clamping off the tube and rushing to surgery with the blood where he handed it to another medic who attached it to a pole. Ki'an breathed a sigh of relief as the situation was out of his power now and he had done all he could. He walked back over to the purple-clad Mandalorian who was already readying to leave after applying a bandage to his own arm and rolling his sleeve back down. Upon noticing the medic return, the other Mandalorian stood up and offered him his hand which Ki'an took in a handshake. "Good luck." He told him, to which Ki'an nodded and replied "Thank you."

Ki'an scanned the room but aside from the chaos that had just ensued everything seemed in working order so he returned outside to treat the walking wounded since the overflow yellow triage patients were being attended to. Once outside, his eyes caught a young face looking spooked so he approached him. "Hey, kid." He greeted him in a friendly tone. "There's no need for you to see this. Why don't you go and help carry one of the crates of food to the camp?" He offered a way to give him something else to focus on rather than the horrors before him.

 

[Eliz Krayt]

Eliz slowly pulled his gaze from the terribleness around him, looking to Ki'an Vizsla with a rather dead expression. The revaluation of just how horrible war was to those who survived put him into a rather numb feeling. "Crates?" Right. These people needed help. The young lad nodded once before turning his gaze to try and figure out where the crates were. And yet, all he kept seeing was the grievously injured. Dying. His face turned white.

"Where..?"

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

I'll have many more on the way after this one, as well some seeds to start planting where we can

Glancing to the entry way she saw Mig Gred enter, smiling a bit she turned to nod to him, mig had become something of a brother to her even back when she followed yasha. Even now she would stand beside him if he ever needed help, her gaze moved back to kres as he spoke about the new threat that was looming over them...extragalatic invaders...she turned off her audio to chuckle slightly, mind on the vong that now was above following her orders

She was brought back by the slamming of the table and watched it split in half, she glanced it over knowing kres was usually cool headed so for him to snap like this was...concerning. turning her audio back on she raised a hand to the table as it began to lift and come together again

reminds me of the vong, but even they have a sort of honor, these creatures will know the fury of all they have destroyed and we shall be their heralds

Her hand clenched, where the table had broken began to glow and a warmth emitted from it as the pieces began to melt back into one another, soon it cooled as star sat it down whole again. It was a bit of a sbow off but for the people.present she wanted them to see that power

which bring me to our topic weve been discussing....I want to go forward with it soon as possible, the brotherhood will serve great against this current threat and to help rebuild
Kreslin Westwind

 

[Marimax Mortui]

Gear:
Trauma and Blackout
Rapture
XX​

Off to his left, some kind of disturbance was taking place. A group of refugees had massed around a family of three; Father, Mother, and a young male toddler. All three were dressed in rags, and yelling hysterically. The gathered crowd tried desperately to calm the trio down. Marimax walked through the crowd, stopping in front of the family. "Please try to remain calm," he said to both of the parents, "And tell me what's the problem."

Marimax listened intently and passionately as the parents, rapidly talking in turns and at times over one another, told him how a group of bandits had robbed them of their final possessions whilst they made for the refugee camp. Occasionally, Marimax was able to get a question in; learning the bandits numbered eight and where defined by three Rodians and five humans; all of which were hauntingly mean and scary. The family could only state the group, after the robbery, headed toward the nearby mountain range. He knew of the area. He also knew the area housed several caverns, in turn played host to many underground tunnel systems. There was no way to know how long these thieves had been using the caverns as a base of operations, but it was clear enough to him they had enough time to set-up a strong and proper defense. He was outnumbered, but he was The Lone Wolf, and the numbers game met little to nothing to him. He loved stacked odds against him.

"I will look into retrieving your stolen property," he began whilst turning his head to look over at the looming mountain range off in the distance, where justice was on the cusp of being dealt to those thieves, "But I offer no promises or assurances I can return everything taken from you."

After putting some distance between himself and the others, he fired up his jet pack and took to the skies.​

 

[Samantha Jade]

tag: Mig Gred , Kranak Vizsla , Marimax Mortui , Eliz Krayt , Adi'ka Awaud

And so it was that even before she could finish her sentence that from the sideline someone did com. Someone who following behind the lead of another ( Mig Gred ) whom she assumes held some sort of leadership amongst those gathered. Most of whom as she soon came to realize were somewhat deck out much like one she sought out find....which in the back of her mind made her pause as if lost in thought. As all-around she could not help take notice of the sea of devastation she'd somehow walked into. Along with it once a voice speak brought her back to the present and she soon came to follow behind listen....did she come to learn the awful truth. As she then draws to the man word as much the conviction behind it no less resonated with her for deep inside Sam knew all too well. The betrayal as much the desperation on felt having been in their shoes so to speak at one point in her own life.

At any rate, feeling as if unsure what if anything else she could do help or what would an outside...no less an exile like her would be round such individual. Samantha kept silent at a distance and took in as much she could of what they could tell her about this place. As for what it's worth she no less felt bound help and return the favor help them as best she could....but as the how and such Sam dare not know just yet.

 

[Adi'ka Awaud]

"Oya, Samanthaaaa!", a voice distorted by a Mandalorian helmet yelled across the ruined area. A small black clad figure waved frantically to get her attention and hopped up and down. Very high up and down by the way as only the strong legged Lepi species could do.

Adi'ka Awaud finally saw a familiar face amid the crowd of foreign Mandalorians. She would always recognize the girl that was like a sister to her. The small Lagomorph speeded with her boot rockets in the direction of Samantha Jade amd stopped in front of her.

She was poking her with her armored fist like the Mandalorians are used to do as a friendly greeting, but wrapped her arms around her soon after.
"Nice to meet you", the enthusiastic little warrior girl said to the steamrolled young woman.

 

[Samantha Jade]

tag: Mig Gred , Kranak Vizsla , Marimax Mortui , Eliz Krayt , Adi'ka Awaud

It was at best seem been a quite sobering sad sight as much a day for Sam behold as much see with her own eyes. And yet in the midst of it all, a voice though seem foreign at first to her ear given its somewhat distorted tone. No less brought a faint smirk as much faint light hope to her dreary day. As from ahead a small black-clad figure came dart across the distance. A familiar face or figure as it were from her once somewhat nomadic past... a friend as much the close to kin she had.... Adi'ka Awaud

At which time once the two were face to face and she'd noted Adi'ka Awaud poke her with an armored fist much like they use to as a sort of friendly greeting. Followed by feeling her arms wrap tight around her as with an enthusiastic voice greeter her.

"Frak....nice meet you again too Adi'ka....and have to say been while since anyone called me that as most days I just go by Sam. Seeing as if nothing else guess raise hell does come with its own share of heat.....so how you been and...what are you doing here?"

 

[Adi'ka Awaud]

"So Sam it is now. Oya." The small Mandalorian removed her helmet with the soft hiss of an environmental suit.
She was still the same pure white furred cute fuzzball with big eyes as always. Adi'ka was a bit younger than her but Samantha knew she had already a shady past as a child criminal of the Black sun rescued from drug abuse and worse by Jurr Awaud, Aliit'alor of the nomad tribes of Clan Awaud. At least Adi'ka called her adotive dad by that title sometimes. Perhaps it was complicated with the almost Sithlike political intrigues of the clans.

"I was escorting refugees or protecting convoys with medical supplies in the last time. Boring as hell. Pirate are cowards. Always running away seeing my Parsniper mork. I also did some bounty hunting jobs. But not always very successful." She shuddered as if remembering some grisly trauma. "No, not at all successful. Seeing a city burned down by some pirate leader escaping justice."

Adi'ka was cheerful and sometimes very temperamental and even violent at times, but she also had a soft heart and went out of her way to help the poor and helpless. Tragedy always get through her cynical mental armor.

"And you? How did you fare, Saman... errr, Sam. You know: Dad could always use a gal of your skills. His offers still stands if you change your mind. I even made friends with a skilled armorer who could forge some nice iron for you."