Dominion The Future is Mandalorian [ ME Dominion of Uyter ]

[Adonis Angelis IV]

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Mud. Adonis detested it.

One of the positives about living somewhere arid for half the year was you didn't have to deal with mud. It now covered Adonis's armor from buy'ce to cetare, in cracks and crannies he would be cleaning for months. These Jedi were going to face Mandalorian wrath like they hadn't seen, simply because Adonis was so angry about the mud.

The rain was rapidly affecting the militia's aim, shots that were already bouncing off beskar were now missing completely. The only sign of distress was the odd sound of a sniper, somewhere north-northwest, Adonis cataloged that for later. For now, he stayed near the building, out of reach of the invisible foe. The numbers here were fewer on both sides, Adonis had pushed further than he wanted, now near the back line.

Adonis pressed on, his broadsaber carving space through the militiamen. They were unequipped to deal with the vanguard, let alone those Mandalorians that followed him. None of them were stupid enough to get caught between the swings, and slowly but surely, the blaster bolts slowed down to a halt. The enemies started closing ranks. They knew they were cornered, and in a stroke of genius they dropped their weapons.

"Smart." Adonis said loud enough for them to hear. The massive Mandalorian warrior looked toward the others behind him, nodding to let them know what to do next. "Bind their hands." Adonis stepped forward to give the order.

Then everything went blank for a moment. Something slammed into the side of his buy'ce hard enough to give him a splitting headache. His hearing echoed and that familiar high pitched ring engulfed his senses.

Mud. Rain.

Someone was shouting.

Boots scattered and blaster fire roared toward the sniper's position.

TAG: Mia Monroe Lucero Tzoran Sylor Muad Dib Diawl Hynafol
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[Astrella Verd]

Astrella Verd was not supposed to be here. She was not supposed to be outside Mandalorian territory. Her mother specifically said to stay within the realm so that if anything happened to her. Someone could respond, someone, anyone with the last name Verd. Which to be fair, was quite numerous. She thought she'd take her chances and smuggled herself onto one of the vessels heading out.

That was how she ended up here, but now that she was here...

The rain had found its way under her collar three corridors ago, and Astrella had decided, somewhere around the second locked door, that the Jedi had built the whole place specifically to be annoying.

It made a certain sense. Everything about this place was too clean. Too quiet in a way that wasn't really quiet pale marble that drank the floodlight glow, long colonnades that went exactly where you didn't want them to, gardens still breathing rainwater in the dark. She'd peeled off from the others the moment she'd gotten the chance, because the others were busy and serious and would have made her stand somewhere safe, and standing somewhere safe was not why she'd talked her way down onto this rock with the rest of the House.

"For the record," she informed no one, picking her way along the cloister wall, "this is reconnaissance."

It was not reconnaissance. It was a fifteen-year-old in scavenged beskar'gam and a jade jacket gone dark with rain, sniffing around a building she'd been very firmly told to stay out of, looking for anything worth carrying home. Spoils for the House. That sounded better. She filed it under that.

A door. Locked, of course. She crouched, thumbed a small charge off her bandolier, turned it over in her fingers the way some people worried a coin, and then, without quite deciding to, tried the handle first.

It gave.

Astrella grinned at it. "See, now you're learning." The charge went back on the strip. Her luck did that sometimes, when she wasn't looking too hard at it, handed her the easy thing, the open door, the half-second jump. She'd stopped questioning it. Questioning it felt like the fastest way to make it stop.

Then she stepped inside, and the wrongness hit her.

It wasn't a sound. It wasn't anything she could've pointed at. The room was just an archive, shelves, a reader, dust the rain hadn't reached, but the air in it pressed against the back of her skull, cold and full and watching, like walking into a conversation that stopped the second you arrived. Her stomach dropped. Her ears rang with feelings that weren't hers. For one bad second she wanted, very badly, to be somewhere with her mother.

At home. In the Mandalorian Empire, where she was supposed to be.

She breathed out hard through her teeth and shook it off the way she shook off everything.

"Okay. Spooky library. Cool. Normal." Her voice came out a half-step too bright. "Totally adding that to the list of things that are fine."

She kept moving anyway. She always did.

Because what could go wrong?

Famous last words.

[Open to Interaction]​

 

[Leddie Gred]

Objective II
Tags: Kael Varr Bastiel Skirata Veyla Krinn Itzhal Volkihar

Leddie was a bit surprised when the code came in, but quickly got to work. She looked out from the cockpit to see Kael came in with the patients. Ok. She made one last check to be sure the engines were good, looked at readouts for the ramp to see when it closed, and the moment the seal set she would begin taking off.

Leddie looked back as she carefully accelerated at first, making sure they didn’t send someone into a wall as the J-Type began to shoot into space. “Alright, we’re away!”

 

[Kael Varr Bastiel Skirata]

Tags: Veyla Krinn Itzhal Volkihar Mig Gred
OBJECTIVE: II - THE UYTER AIRLIFT
Ship: The Cabur Rekr (The Guardian Wolf)
Armor: Dauntless-type Beskar'gam
Blade: Tal'Alor Beskad
Primary Weapon: Plasma Bow
Secondary Weapon: Paired Beskar Tonfa

Kael activated the wall-mounted tractor field projectors to lock down the patients. Once he had checked all the vitals, he settled himself against the bulkhead, "Good piloting, Leddie." Kael pressed a switch, and a recording of Leddie's besbev performance played through both the cockpit and the cargobay. He used the music to settle his mind and focus on the force, using it to sense what his charges needed before they could show signs of needing it. Pulling up the Cabur's scanners, he pointed out an old Lucrehulk battleship converted to a hospital ship named "The Light of Peace" and sent the proper landing credentials.

 

[Israel]

Wearing:
Beskar'gam - Ripper - PDW - Beskad​

OBJECTIVE III - JEDI ENCLAVE

For just a moment, the Supercommando allowed himself to be amused.

When it came to the Witch, banter was as easy as breathing. That came with the territory of course, as Israel had known the fiery-haired woman for the better part of a lifetime. "Remind me to pick up some on the way back," came his response. The snark was thick in his voice and dripped from every syllable. Yet, the time for standing in place, trading quips quickly passed.

Soon the comm was alive, the Basilisk was airborne, and Israel was on the move.

As he moved, Maia's words about his back size caused his lips to purse from behind his helm. Was she calling him fat? As a seasoned soldier, he had learned ten thousand rebuttals to such words. Yet, she was a lady, so all ten thousand were wildly inappropriate to say in her presence. In fact, they were detrimental to his health all things considered. So, Israel settled for shaking his head.

As they approached the Enclave, Israel clicked his tongue which was the signal his beast was waiting for. From their position, the din of an explosion reached them almost immediately. Shockwave generator rods roared to life, ripping through the fortification like a hot knife through butter. This encouraged the Supercommando to move into a genuine jog. He reached for the magnetic rail on his back and plucked free his Ripper.

He then breached the main entrance and found only darkness awaiting him.

In but a breath, his helm's light kicked on immediately. While he had anticipated that the majority of the Enclave's personnel had gone to fight the "good" fight, he didn't anticipate...this. The condition of the Enclave was sordid - as if they were living in a ruin and not a monumental to the Light. "What do you see?" he then asked Maia. The emphasis on the final word was alluding to truths that the naked eye wouldn't witness.

Truths that her talents could easily unearth.

Maia - Hanna - Adelle Bastiel

 

[Maia]

UYTER - OBJECTIVE III

Tension stilled the breath in my lungs as the distant sound of the Basilisk kicked in. We worked our steady walk up into a jog. Though he was much taller than I, I had become accustom to matching his pace. I took two steps for every one of his, but there was never a moment I wasn't by his side. Then I watched, hesitant, as Israel breached the entrance.

It should have been beautiful here. Everything I’d heard about Jedi was that they displayed their wealth in a quiet sort of way. Fine marble, dominating statues, clean cut beauty.

But it wasn’t beautiful.

Centuries of wind had rounded the once proud stone until every corner had softened into weary curves. Pillars stood fractured like old bones that had healed crooked. Dust lay thick enough to swallow footprints whole, undisturbed save for the occasional trail left by some desperate creature searching for shelter. Yet there was so little life. That was what unsettled me.

Ruin was a living thing. Abandoned places welcomed the wild. They invited it.

Roots should have pried apart the foundations one patient finger at a time. Ivy should have climbed every wall. Moss should have wrapped the stone in soft green velvet until the Enclave belonged more to the planet than to those who had constructed it. Life always found a way to creep back into forgotten places. But not here.

Instead…

The cracks remained empty.

The handful of weeds that had managed to force themselves through the floor grew pale and stunted, their leaves curling inward as though they were ashamed of their existence. Moss clung only to the darkest corners, thin enough that the grey stone showed through its skin. Even the air felt barren. No drifting spores. No sweet scent of damp earth. Only stale dust and old incense that had lingered long after the voices that burned it had fallen silent.

It was like walking through a forst after a wildfire, only there had been no flames. Someone, or something, had taught life not to grow here. The silence pressed against my ears until it became almost deafening. But then, a whisper. Not from the Enclave itself. From beneath it. Tiny roots, buried far below the foundations, twisting away from the heart of the ruin as though fleeing something they could neither understand nor escape.

The Enclave was wrong.

Not because it was abandoned, because it was holding its breath.

Something had frightened the life out of this place.

Israel’s voice broke the silence. “What do you see?”

I knelt beside a stubborn fern forcing its way through cracked marble and brushed my fingers over its dew soaked leaves.

The force answered. The fern bloomed. Then withered. Bloomed again. Withered. The visions came too quickly. A corridor drowned in crimson flowers. Israel walking through it. The flowers turning black. No… the flowers stayed crimson. It was the walls that bled. No. That wasn’t right either.

The images tangled together like vines choking one another. Every time I found the thread, another wrapped around it. Everytime he appeared, the pattern broke apart. I hissed through my teeth as pain bloomed behind my eyes.

Too close. He was too close.

Mother Vyre’s voice echoed from years ago. “Attachment grows weed through prophecy.” I hated when she was right.

My breathing steadied as I forced myself to stop chasing certainty. The harder I reached for the future, the further it retreated. So I settled for what remained. A feeling. The unmistakable sensation of a snare pulled taut.

“I…” My voice faltered, an unfamiliar thing. “I can’t see it.” Frustration crept into the words. “Not clearly.”

I looked past him instead of at him, as though avoiding his face might untangle the vision. “You’re in it.” A beat. “And because you’re in it…” I shook my head. “The roots refuse to tell me the ending.” I didn’t need to say more. He was all too aware of my shortcomings in this area. Though it frustrated me to no end, he knew where he was concerned my sight was no more reliable than the weather.

Silence settled between us. Finally, I reached for the only certainty the sparse flora here had managed to give me. “They’re waiting.” My fingers closed around his vambrace. “Whatever happens,” I swallowed. “...don’t be first through the next doorway. Let me go.”​

Israel • Adelle Bastiel • Hanna • Open​