Song of Exile (Mandalorians & friends)

[Alleycat]

The young medic turned her helmeted head and looked over to [member="Rashae"] who sat in one of the passenger seats as the doctor asked if they wanted the data feed coming from her ship's biological scanners. The female doctor was anything but warm in presence and wondered if her bedside manner wasn't any different. Cold and calculated was the woman's persona. Maybe Mesh'l was a bit too compassionate at times to keep emotions from clouding her clinical judgement. It was something her mother had to deal with over the years.

[ Any data would be much appreciated, doctor, ] Mesh nodded, then went back to monitoring the comms as her previous response to an earlier hail from an unidentified ship in the area had not been returned.

Her gloved fingers turned sensor dials and toggled switches to see if she could get a clearer picture of who they were dealing with. Mesh's brow quirked up when that scan was finished. [member="Strider Garon"] would want to know. Kinda strange for Hapans to be in this part of the galaxy., or at least she thought so.

[ Nayc I haven't, Stri'buir... nothing but dead space between us on all channels. I have though picked up on our long range scanner a small fleet of Hapan-class ships on the edge of orbit. That could possible be who hailed us earlier. Maybe they were just sightseeing and decided to move on? ]

[member="Ardgal Raxis"] [member="Drof'del Tavor"] [member="Aden Dral"] [member="Preliat Mantis"] [member="Tahiri Veya"]

 

[Drof'del Tavor]

Drof eased back in his seat and kept quiet for the duration of the trip since no response was given. He was known for talking too much, especially during high stress environments, this frustrated him even more.

He observed the sphere in the distance, encrusted in the desert--Well.....i suppose that answers that question

No telling on the ETA though, it would be soon. The others had picked up life signs located in Sundari, this made his trigger finger itchy, would they be allies or enemies? No one knew.
For now all Drof'del could do was sit and wait. He was still new so he didnt have any other special tasks at hand other than to help out where needed....Just like a farm hand....like i used to be

He gave a heavy sigh and looked on to the horizon for what was to come.

[member="Mesh'la Dral"] | [member="Aden Dral"] | [member="Malok"] | [member="Ardgal Raxis"] | [member="Rashae"] | [member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Zef Halo]

SUNDARI
MANDALORE

Meanwhile, a lone figure roamed the long abandoned domed city of Mandalore. So much history lost to the Gulag plague but the bits Jorel had found lead him to believe it used to once serve as a capital to the Mandalorians. It sure as hell fit the bill in terms of size.

The investigator carefully set back the filtering mask in his utility belt, the rubber-like material it was made of helped it fit in the small pouch. The readings were clear - no harmful air solutions or components. Nonetheless, the thick dust that had made the domed city its capital bothered him and the agent for hire semi-regretted his decision to remove his mask.

"Plenty of things had been scavenged but not plenty enough considering what place this used to be." Jim spoke to the datalogger on his arm that recorded him as he kicked an era old empty bottle of Mandalorian ale. "Electricity's been taken apart, of course. Various dents in the dome but still not enough ruin for such a big and well-known city that had been abandoned."

There was still much left to inspect of the abandoned Mandalorian capital.

[member="Strider Garon"] | [member="Rashae"] | [member="Ardgal Raxis"] | [member="Drof'del Tavor"] | [member="Aden Dral"] | [member="Mesh'la Dral"]​

 

[Rashae]

Rashae was about to acquire Garon's approval after Raskin piped up of wanting that feed. The only other female on board, the field medic, Ms. Dal requested the feed as well. It made sense considering. The doctor nodded to both of the mandalorians as she put two fingers on an earpiece to reach out to her medical frigate, Padme, that seemed to acquire a lot of company. A hapan fleet would make her no difference from any other fleet. It did; however, make a difference to her Commander.

“Requesting access to the biological scan feeds. “ She would say on her private channel that went straight to the bridge. Who ever was on the other line was not making a good impression.

Anyone observing, if she was cold and distant before, now she was down right glacial. Some might interpret as a thermal fixing to go off as well. “Authority? Who else do you think would be calling this channel? Minister Lovous.”

Rashae's sense of military protocol was a tad abrasive towards it. It was her galaxy frakking ship. What the hell. “If I have to leave the Avril to come up to the Padme to correct this issue, I will frakking toss you out the nearest airlock if you don't do precisely what I tell you to do!” There was the fire. She stared at her datapad as if the offending person was right on the other side.

“As a matter of protocol, if I bloodly hell contact this line and request something, I frakking better have it. Is that clear!” She ended that message as she even growled as her fingers danced on her datapad smoothly.

“Data feeds should be patching through now, Mr. Raxis and Miss. Dral.” The complicated woman advised Raxis and Mesh'la in an aggravated tone.

Strider had his command, Rashae had hers and she didnt take any flack from anyone. The woman might be non-military but she expected her people to perform with perfection. “Fraking newbies.” The woman said under her breath. The poor person that was in the line of fire was a rather new addition to their staff. There was a long intake of breath through her nose and an even longer exhale out of it as she re-centered herself and focused on the task. Out of the window the distant dome could be seen. It looked like a lifeless shell remains of something that archaeologist would dig up.


[member="Strider Garon"] [member="Ardgal Raxis"] [member="Mesh'la Dral"] [member="Tahiri Veya"] [member="Drof'del Tavor"] [member="Aden Dral"] [member="Preliat Mantis"] [member="Malok"] [member="Jorel Imos"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

He breathed in deeply the air through his helmet. The foul air of betrayal- of loss. He could feel it beneath his feet, on his hands as he let the sand fall through. Probably radioactive. His armor could only keep out so much- though this sun-scorched area was radioactive for a long time. A long, long time. He ran a hand over his helmet, over his Olympian armor. Beskar'gam was buried somewhere in the woods near the clone's training facility. It'd probably stay there too. Forever, if things went right. But as wrong as the Mandalorians did him, as long as his vode had betrayed him and cast him aside- he still had one truth left to find, one final formality left to bear. He needed to see if [member="Strider Garon"], the man who would be king, was alive. But he needn't see it through a holofeed. He didn't need a report. He needed to see him with his own eyes. He needed to, perhaps for closure, perhaps for himself. Perhaps for a final act as a Mandalorian.

He looked up at the approaching ship. It wasn't as fast as his. Not many were. He had beaten them here. And he would be waiting for them. He stood armed only with a handgun, and in the now-recognizable armor of the Clone Army, that once belonged to the Republic- but now was under the direct command of [member="Commander Lusk"] and Preliat. And...they were under the banner of the First Order. The Mandalorians had pushed Preliat away. Now he sought vengeance upon them. But that would come. They didn't need to know. No need for an outcry. He was long past such theatrics and great speeches. They didn't suit him.

He stood, stoic as he watched the ship come forward on the horizon. He felt himself small, faced with such a large reality. Faced with such a grim reality- a feeling he had never felt before now washed over him. Guilt. Guilt over his actions recently. Guilt over his decisions. But it passed. They had burned him. They would feel his wrath. So he stood, waiting to see his old friend- and to come to terms with where he was in the galaxy.

[member="Strider Garon"][member="Ardgal Raxis"][member="Drof'del Tavor"][member="Rashae"]

 

[Darth Metus]

S U N D A R I​

The Arcaneum​

Volcanic activity had rendered the Arcaneum inert.

It was new - a donation left behind by the late Warmaster Verd. Within the heart of the domed city, a structure of white stood tall. Its entrance was adorned with greenery and a cobbled, hand-laid path. Its interior was modern, with high ceilings and lights abounding. Yet when the fire came, the Gift of Knowledge was rendered mute. Countless wounds now marred the structure: cracks, shattered windows, and broken walls. A lack of power had left the building dead. There were no sprinklers to maintain the now-charred trees. There were no fixtures to light the way.

The Arcaneum was just as deceased as the man who had designed it.

However.

Something stirred inside. Perhaps it was a protocol knocked dormant by the volcanic activity. Or, perhaps it was the presence of Mandalorians being picked up by barely-functioning scanners. Whichever the case, where once there was death, there was now red. The Arcaneum's halls were illuminated in an instant: emergency power suddenly pumping through its veins. Its shattered doors forced themselves open, as if attempting to gasp a breath of air. For the most part, this transformation would go unnoticed: a frivolity in comparison to the city the team explored. But that was when the interference began.

Piercing noise. Shrill. Unrelenting.

A sound that, to the naked ear, was as if radio static had been turned up to eleven now permeated the Mandalorian channel. Every helm within range would find itself plagued by the noise. Fiddling with the volume would bring minimal relief. Removing one's buy'ce would leave a screaming piece of armor in their hands. Location the epicenter would be elementary - but turning off the damn cacophany would prove a touch more challenging. Who, then, would venture into the Arcaneum? Who, then, would attempt to flip that switch?

[member="Preliat Mantis"], [member="Ardgal Raxis"], [member="Drof'del Tavor"], [member="Rashae"], [member="Malok"], [member="Jorel Imos"], [member="Strider Garon"], [member="Aden Dral"], [member="Mesh'la Dral"]​

 

[Strider Garon]

Every piece of communication device they had aboard the ship was haunted with the ghastly shrills. The strill howled in response to the disturbance, adding more noise pollution to the cockpit of the Avril. Strider quickly turn the comms off and tossed his helmet down the corridor in attempts to calm his beloved pet. "Its alright Duchess, its alright!" His human hand would stroke the fleshy beast of prey, soothing her while he flew. Though cutting the comms off and tossing his helmet down the corridor only helped a bit. There was still the rest of the mandalorains and the doctor that had their communication devices open.

"Turn your devices off!" The old man barked.

This was not a good sign. Strider was hoping for a non eventful sneak and peak and get the medical facility checked out on this run. Seemed Sundari had other plans, as if trying to ward them off with moral breaking shreaks from hell. Problem was, this boat was full of mandalorians and cold hearted doctor. Was going to take more then that to make this team flee.

The sphere of Sundari took up most of their view outside the cockpit. The hound of Keldabe was jockying the Avirl into approach. The large landing pad that the schematics he had informed him it was a emergency medical landing site. Which would be directly connected to the Sundari's main medical facility. Be a good place to touch down and get that doctor to work. Now, for the disturbing radio interference...... They will have to investigate that and the lifeforms that Doctor Rashae's ships had picked up.

Never easy,

The Avril Landed on the pad, the Loading by doors open exposing those with in to the dry heat of the desert that surrounded the spherical metropolis. Strider was the first down the ramp, well duchess was first with Strider in tow. The mandalorian Canine was nose to the ground and ears perked up getting a good sense of her surroundings. The wind coming off the north played with the old man's hair, his helmet magnetically clamped to his belt, due to comms being off, with his golden shoulder cap flapping about. His ancient rifle was up at the ready as he scanned the area for potential threats, moving forward towards the main entrance.

The team would all have had fanned out in a defensive perimeter as soon as they disembarked from the Avril. Strider approached the main entrance and tried the security clearance codes to gain access to what should of been an abandon hospital and top of that, an abandon city.

ACCESS DENIED

"Of course!" He snarled under his breath. Well, they could do explosive entry. The very thought brought up phantom pains through his body. He instinctively rubbed his left eye, deadpan plain white. The eye looked dead, with the nasty scar from so long ago running down from eyebrow to jaw. The eye was bionic, just like his left arm and leg. Souvenirs from a botched boarding action years ago. Old man got a good lesson one what happens when breaching charges critically fail. It was miracle that he even survived that accident.

Or.... he could just get one of them tech savvy pups behind him to just slice the door. Hell, even the gorgeous doctor looked like she new the ins and outs of computer just as much as she did of the living meat bags of the galaxy. "Alright, who wants a crack at this door before i blow it up?"

 

[Drof'del Tavor]

Drof gripped his head in pain as the droning shrill blasted through his helmet. He yanked his helm off and held it away from his ears to protect what little hearing he had left.

"Kriff!! What in bantha poodoo is that?!" He shouted. There is no telling, maybe thats a signal to stay away from Sundari.....no telling what still dwells here

"Turn your devices off!"

He nodded and switched his comms off and put his helmet back on with slight hesitation. Strange that a piercing noise would only reveal itself as they closed in on the area.....very curious indeed. With The Avril landing on the pad with a smooth thud, Drof got up from his seat and unclamped his rifle from its secure harness above his head. The team of Mandalorians (and the doctor) all proceeded off the ship in a defensive formation- this made Drof smile slightly.

Without a second thought he shuffled out of the bay doors and knelt down on one knee, surveying the surrounding area with the scope of his carbine. Nothing. Purely and simply nothing, this was an eerie setting. No telling what denizens (if any) were observing their every move. Drof's train of thought was broken by Strider's frustration at the main facility door, blocking their path for entry.

"Alright, who wants a crack at this door before i blow it up?"

Drof thought for a moment before he replied "Sir, if i may be so bold?. These sort of facilities have emergency backup power right? If so, there could potentially be an alarm system, explosive entry could set off any working alarms and activate any security protocols....if they even still work...Not sure if this facility meets that quota but....well....just food for thought i suppose"

Drof didn't want to come off as an insensitive jerk, but he was overly cautious in these types of situations and he didn't want his comrades to fall. Unfortunately for him, being overly cautious also makes him socially inept. Drof looked up at [member="Strider Garon"] who was at the main doors contemplating on a course of action.

"If not the door, then maybe there is a maintenance hatch somewhere? Unless one of us can slice the door we could either brute force it or find another way. Finding another way would chew us down on time but it is ultimately your call sir."

Drof enjoyed having a superior to guide him into battle and to look up to for decisions, but didnt want his obedience to come off as ignorance. He just wanted to ensure that their goal was met ASAP for this op.

He shifted his gaze back through the scope of his carbine, awaiting action or dialogue to be taken.

[member="Rashae"] | [member="Mesh'la Dral"] | [member="Aden Dral"] | [member="Ardgal Raxis"] | [member="Malok"]

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

The Frequency hit Ardgal harder than most. Being a cyborg had its advantages--and its downfalls. He felt his knees buckle for a fraction of a second as the high frequency screech tore through his helmet and even deeper--through his mind. The warrior managed to catch himself, but just barely, before hitting the ground. He didn't even have to be told twice by Strider. As fast as his fingers could, the warrior unlatched and removed his helmet and threw it down panting. His gloved hand cleared the sheen of sweat from his face as he collected himself. The warrior went internal, into the inner machinations of his own computer inter-workings:

Access Control terminal: Y/N? Y... Input access matrix... Complete.

Shut down analysis matrix? Y/N? ... Y.... Verify. Complete. Shutting down.

The pain in his body abetted even more, his Fibromyalgia even getting a break as the electronic hell that made him tough as beskar slowly began to ease away. He looked around at everyone in the party, he would have to get used to seeing them without the constant analysis feed that had become his life. He de-activated the comm in his helmet before clipping it on his belt. They landed, and he gripped his disruptor rifle in both hands, striding down the ramp, eyes roaming for any hostiles. Life was simpler like this. It was always simpler with a rifle in your hands. The warrior caught Drof's comments about the entrance.

"We could afford to do both," Ardgal put in, speaking for the first time, "A two pronged entrance, in case of ambush. If there are hostiles in there, it would be the last thing they'd expect. And if one unit got pinned down, the other could catch back on the other side and provide relief. Unless," there was the other side of things, "You think it would be a bad idea to split the group, sir."

[member="Drof'del Tavor"] I [member="Rashae"] I [member="Preliat Mantis"] I [member="Malok"] I [member="Mesh'la Dral"] I [member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Alleycat]

When the horrible shrill noise came through the Avril's communication unit and the Mando helmet worn upon the petite medic's head, Mesh'la immediately cut the feed to the ship's comlink, then quickly removed the red and black buy'ce as if it was a hot potato or something.

"Gods, that gave me a royal headache!" Mesh exclaimed rubbing her temples as the searing pain had gone right across her forehead and around like a vice. "I think I'd rather give birth a second time, than experience that again."

When Mesh'la realized what she just said out loud and not in the privacy of her helmet off comms, the young blonde turned to her ex and glared at him. "And don't get any ideas either, ner vod. It wasn't an invitation to mess around."

Okay that was a bit hostile, but Mesh had a headache now, and was emotionally distraught over coming back to her homeworld in the condition it was in. She'd apologize later to [member="Aden Dral"], maybe, if a more generous mood struck her and they survived this scouting mission.

As [member="Strider Garon"] led the group down the boarding ramp and to the facility, the Baar'ur brought up the rear, then watched their backs as they determined how best to get the door open. She had her blaster rifle at the ready and eyes peeled while waiting for the di'kuts up front to make a move - either slice in, blow it, or find another access point duh?!

Okay, maybe she was PMSing too just a bit.


[member="Ardgal Raxis"] [member="Drof'del Tavor"] [member="The Faithful"] [member="Preliat Mantis"] [member="Rashae"] [member="Jorel Imos"]

 

[Rashae]

Once she assured the two requesting data feeds from the ship's scanners was acquired. She relaxed a little bit as she read the data feeds that came in. That was till the piercing noise h it her com that was right on her ear. The earpiece came off and was thrown up to the front. It harmlessly bounced off the back of Strider's head as she held her ear. The woman had very good hearing and was also very sensitive. The com link thrown from her head towards the front was still going off as the woman was holding her forehead with one hand and the affected ear with the other.

“Fraking hell.” She said as she didnt notice right off just about everyone cussed or said some colorful expletive in regards to this noise.

It took the woman a little bit to blink away the initial sharp pain through her head. No she didnt have cybernetics or any kind, she was just that sensitive. When she finally looked around it seemed everyone had experienced the same thing on some level. Once she got her earpiece, it was turned off and put in a pouch at her belt. She was wincing as the Commander was going to expect contact from her very soon.

The ship had landed and they filed out of the ship. She trailed behind as the others looked around she was still reading the data feeds. She was trying to get an idea of how many life forms was in there and a size or some other information. At her thigh was a bit of a pea shooter of a blaster. It was stock small caliber type of a blaster. It would likely piss someone off before killing someone. Like she would know. She barely knew how to pull the trigger, yet it was insisted she take it down with her.

Rashae managed to look up at the security they came across to gain entry. She found something to lean against to keep reading and staying out of their way. The dryness of the air and heat hit her but she didnt complain. The winds played with her raven hair as a few strands got loose of their stiff confines to dance around her head.

[member="Mesh'la Dral"] [member="Ardgal Raxis"] [member="Drof'del Tavor"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Malok"] @Joel Imos [member="Aden Dral"]

 

[Judah Lesan]

The shrill had been too much, and almost made the young sniper deaf. His ears were still ringing as he heard Mesh'la say something about having another baby, followed by ensuring he knew it wasn't an invitation. Dammit... he'd been behaving pretty well enough, and being back in the same house as his wife without any of the benefits was driving him crazy. She seemed in a mood though, and Aden knew well enough it was mostly being back on Mandalore. He should have been there, but wasn't.

He shrugged, and went back to minding his own business until they landed. Aden was pretty calm in tense situations simply for the fact Strider had always gotten them out. As there was a debate on whether to slice through or blow the door, Aden prepped his slugthrower. As the sharp shooter he was one of the middle in to take up a good position and start picking off anyone that got their head up too high. He knew why he was there. Aden's job was to keep the team safe, the doctor, and his wife.

"Let's blow the damn door," Aden said. "The explosion will cause a brief enough distraction that we can use to our advantage. You up in the front are buying me time to find a good spot to pick off anyone that gets in our way. I can't very well do that you slice that panel and we open it to a room full of hostiles."

[member="Mesh'la Dral"] [member="Ardgal Raxis"] [member="Drof'del Tavor"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Malok"] @Joel Imos [member="Rashae"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

The shrill caused the Wolf to throw his helmet aside, but found it not bothering him once more. He deduced that it was still operating on the Mandalorian's frequencies- and attuned to their armor. He wasn't clad in his Beskar'gam, nor the protections- and technological advances that came with it. He turned to the Sundari as a ship landed. It was close to 300 meters away from where he was. Not a far walk, but not a short one either. Preliat picked up his rifle, and marched towards the group of Mandalorians. He reached up and pulled the golden-brown shawl over his head. It was his- nothing particularly Mandalorian about it, but it was nonetheless distinctly a marker of Preliat Mantis. He wore it constantly- and it gave him as much protection now as it did ten years ago.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking directly at [member="Mesh'la Dral"], who was smartly watching the rear. Nonetheless, he marched on. If he was to be shot, at least he knew that it'd be a quick death. Then, he saw him. [member="Strider Garon"]. He stopped, at least a good twenty meters from the group. Preliat, holding the rifle with his right hand, used his free left hand to remove the shawl from his head. And he just looked at him, the man who would be king- right in the face.

And he found himself strangely feeling guilty. So he cocked his head, looking at the group. A son of Striders, [member="Aden Dral"], a woman he did not know, [member="Mesh'la Dral"], a man who looked more machine than anything else, [member="Ardgal Raxis"], and finally [member="Drof'del Tavor"]- whom he had no idea of whom he was. To Preliat, they looked simply as anonymous armor-clad Mandalorians. He felt disconnected with the Mandalorians- as most would be, if they were in Preliat's position. Preliat's eyes wandered over Sundari. Once upon a time, he would've done anything to gain entrance. Now it only stood as a monument to his people's failures, their petty prejudices and their perpetual habits of destroying themselves. Preliat had fallen victim to such a tradition. The Mandalorians had turned his loyalty into difference, and eventually hatred.

They had thrown him to the wolves, and all that he loved. So he turned his back on them all. Dar'manda, is what he should've been called- but he wondered if they'd even bother to give him the title. Or even if they cared if he abandoned them all for the First Order. But part of him needed to know if Strider was still alive. And the honorable part of him that remained, wanted to tell him face to face what he did. Preliat curled his crushgaunt-adorned hands, and stood behind the group, letting his silence speak volumes for him, for the time being. He wouldn't interfere with their mission- he had his own purpose here. It'd be completed shortly, and he'd take his leave- and his rightful place, off the planet.

 

[Zef Halo]

SUNDARI
MANDALORE

Jorel's stroll through the long abandoned streets of Sundari led him to a wide open plaza surrounded by different buildings. Not the best place to be.

But it was abandoned, right?

Could never be too sure. The agent drew his blaster out and approached carefully the plaza. Paranoia slid into the back of his mind and his instincts kicked it. The first building to his right was where he found refuge.

Rectangular in shape, an abstractish as most Mandalorian architecture was but definitely nothing seemed spartan about it. Despite the architecture style, it still differed a lot from the typical direct-to-the point and military interiors that all Mandalorian buildings had.

A different era? An embassy?

A medical facility. A dusty, broken in half sign on the ground told him so.

Jorel followed his pistol through the different hallways and memorized different observations that he would utter to the datalogger later when he felt he was at a safer place.

Taking the stairs up, the agent was unknowingly making his way to where the doors to the landing pad were. The intact dome had isolated any sound any engine of a starship might make from the outside.

[member="Aden Dral"] | [member="Rashae"] | [member="Mesh'la Dral"] | [member="Ardgal Raxis"] | [member="Drof'del Tavor"] | [member="Strider Garon"]​