We Are the Chosen Ones

[Darth Metus]

Mount Tantiss, Wayland​

Over the course of recent years, Isley Verd felt as though the foundation of his very existence had been shaken to the core. This was due to the fact that numerous tragedies had befallen him, in rapid succession of one another, and had caused him to all but lose his identity. Under the reign of Mandalore the Rebuilder, the young Mandalorian was the definition of potential. He served admirably alongside his comrades and was a shining example of what a member of the warrior culture was supposed to be. However, following his capture and subsequent torment at the hands of a Sith that he called friend, this identity began to change dramatically. Isley spent years under the knife, and upon escaping firstly returned home. It was there, home at Mandalore, that he learned of the death of Mandalore the Rebuilder and how many times his title had changed hands...

This sickened the Mandalorian to the core, and following a short span of service among his people, he left his homeworld in order to pay back a debt. This debt was owed to the men and women of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, who were responsible for bandaging his wounds and liberating him from the doors of death immediately following his escape from his tormentor. Amongst them, he served most faithfully, until such time as he felt that his life debt was repaid. It was during this span of service that a desire to return to his people wedged itself deep inside his heart; and so he took a leave from the Confederacy in order to return home. He wanted to see...if perhaps time had healed the wound that had sparked such confusion and had allowed him to become "Dar'manda" in the eyes of his people.

As such, he reached out to one of his kind by the name Azrael.

The two had worked in close coordination with one another during the raid against Mon Calamari's shipyards, and as such Azrael was one of the few Mandalorians who had earned Isley's utmost respect in recent days. The brief sum of communication that had occurred between them as part of Isley's reaching out had resulted in an agreement: an opportunity for Isley to rid himself of the label which characterized him so that he may once again be a Mando'ad! The two had agreed to meet upon Wayland, one of the initial worlds that the Mandalorian regime had claimed during their current surgence into power, so that he may prove himself in the face of that which was native to the world. Monstrous fauna, deadly flora, and ruins in desperate need of exploring.

The appointment was kept to the letter, and Isley's starfighter touched down upon the planet's surface only a stone's throw away from the ruins which were formerly known as Mount Tantiss. It was here that Isley's challenge would begin, and hopefully end with his reintegration into the Mandalorian people. With haste, the gold-clad warrior disembarked and made for the rendezvous point, which was at the front of the ruins. Once here, he opened a line of communication to Azrael, speakin on an open frequency.

"This is Isley, have you landed Vod?"

@[member="Azrael"].

 

[Azrael]

A call to redemption was a call that the Ord Mantell native would answer at the drop of a buy'ce - especially from a wayward Vod who was trying to reconcile. Isley Verd - the Gold Mandalorian he'd forged a working relationship with during the last act of Mandalore the Liberator was someone he hadn't had the chance to really know. The Mando'ade were tight knit, and he'd been working alongside his new aliit for the better part of a year now, but he'd only encountered Isley in sparse amounts. It had seemed that Verd had lost his way, his path had gone askew when he joined the ranks of the Confederacy's newest incarnation and had moved away from Mandalore and the vode. Many were unhappy with his decision, including the reigning Mand'alor of whom he knew personally. Azrael was an orphan taken in by the Manda, and he knew that somewhere inside the gold plating, the heart of a Mando'ad beat with fervent vigor to rejoin the fold. He wouldn't refuse that desire - ever.

The Ca'prudii glided into the atmosphere of Wayland's temperate climate, using the IFF signature of Verd's craft to track his location and bring his fighter into close proximity. He'd come a long way since Verd and himself had last worked together in attempting to bring back their technology from the clutches of the Sith. So much had happened with the invasion of the Dark Harvest and in his own life as becoming more and more a Mando with each passing day. The ship alone was a new addition to the fleet of Mand'yaim and had been entrusted to the former scrapper. The sleek dark vessel lowered itself through the atmosphere as Azrael checked the frequencies around to ensure there wasn't any unwelcome visitors in the sky. They were still well within Mandalorian territory, but he was always cautious to not get spooked by a rogue vessel.

:: Oya, vod. I'm heading your way right now. I'll be landing shortly. :: The open channel came back with Azrael's voice minutes before the craft began to lower and swing around by it's aft before descending like a black rain cloud to the soil beneath. The night shadow was a mystery, even to him. They didn't know where it had come from, all they did know is that the previous captain was the infections black sludge that had terrorized the outer rim near Omega Protectorate space. Landing gear pressed to the earthen soil and steadied itself letting out a hiss of exhaust ports as the engines wined down. Moments later the boarding ramp lowered and the figure in black and deep maroon exited with clipped steps on the durasteel platform.

Another new addition to what Verd had seen before, was the beskar'gam currently being sported by Azrael. Dark charcoal grey and black covered it's uniquely shaped surface with hints of dark red at the edge of the plating. A non-traditional helmet design coupled with the lack of one armored arm completed the relatively new armor. His bionic arm with the halmark shoulder plate bearing Mythosaur was clearly visible giving away his identity to those that knew him. Strapped to him in various places were expected weaponry that no Mandalorian would ever be without. A crimson sheen over the visor registered Isley for the first time in many months, and beneath the helmet a smile touched Azrael's face.

"Me'vaar ti gar ?" came the greeting as he approached the gold Mandalorian and offered his right hand to clasp over Isley's in a warm greeting. Situationally, Isley was still one of the vode to that of Azrael. He understood the term dar'manda, but he didn't immediately categorize everyone who strayed from Manda'yaim as a traitor or one who had lost their identity. He was not so callous to assume that Verd would disown the Mando'ade especially when he still wore such iconic armor that identified him easily as part of the vode. This was going to be a good mission, and it was doing good work; important work. It was time for Isley to come back home.

@[member="Dar'jetii"]​

 

[Darth Metus]

It did not take long for Azrael's ship to descend from the heavens and land only a short distance from where Isley stood. With patience, the Mandalorian awaited his fellow warrior's disembarking from his vessel; and when he saw his form exist the ship, he was pleasantly surprised! Though unique in its own way, the beskar'gam that Azrael now wore suited him exquisitely. At a glance, it identified him as one of the vode, yet at the same time it set him apart from all the rest of his people. To say the least, it did Isley's heart good to see Azrael; as the mere sight of him inspired something within him.

A drive to return home.

As Azrael's hand stretched out to greet the young warrior, a smile graced the veiled face of the Mandalorian. He returned the gesture in turn, reaching out and clasping his fellow's in his grasp, rendering a firm shake, before relinquishing. Whilst he did so, he answered Azrael's greeting; his voice sounding with the same metallic edge that came standard with speech uttered from behind a visor. "I am doing well, ori'vod, thank you for coming. Words cannot describe how grateful I am for this opportunity."

With that said, he turned his attention to the ruins which lay ahead. The entrance looked little more than an abandoned mineshaft; and the "mountain" looked as though it had been the victim of a bombardment of some sort long ago. The scars and craters were still evident in the rock, though overgrown with vegetation in the centuries that had passed since that chaotic day. It was into the depths of this battlescarred place that Isley hoped to prove himself.

And why here? Why the Force-forsaken Mount?

History spoke of this particular mountain as a vault. A repository for artifacts, both great and terrible that were stored by the Emperor Palpatine during his reign. As such, Isley hoped to recover something of use within the depths of this ruined mountain; and hopefully prove himself along the way. "Let's not waste any time, ori'vod. Do you mind if I take point?"

@[member="Azrael"].

 

[Azrael]

Not since the mission on Mol Calamari had Azrael seen Isley Verd, and yet he looked no worse for the wear. From what he understood, the Confederacy had treated Isley well, and helped him recover from his time locked in a prison. The Mandalorians were on speaking terms at least with the Confederacy which most likely stemmed from the fact that they were centralized on the other size of the Galaxy, and posed no real threat of invasion of their worlds. They had even began negotiations of non-aggression pacts with the Mand'alor. It wasn't as if Isley had stepped over into the Sith Empire and began blatantly attacking Mand'yaim. The firm gauntlet press of their armor together was a welcome sign of friendship and trust between the two sons of Manda. In a sweeping arc of information, Azrael's HUD lit up with various facts and rumors on the holo-net's public and private sectors about their location. He'd done a fair amount of research on the way here, but actually seeing this cave was a different story.

"The Manda smiles on us Vod, we shall take the cave and it's contents and see to it that you're back on Mand'yaim with the vode." Azrael said with a hallmark of confidence that the two of them would weather this challenge with all the strength and might of the Mandalorian legacy and return home to tell the tale. A pat on the gold armor plating was given in encouragement as they began to approach the mouth of the cave. A once proud mountain was nothing more than a hollow husk of it's former glory, and only seemed to boast this large and winding cave. Information had leaked long ago about the ruins of the cave and it's aforementioned use. The schematics of which Azrael downloaded from the holo-net and passed along to Isley. It was far more than just a cache for an old Sith Lord's toys, this was a command station with various and sundry uses. Apparently the late Emperor of almost a thousand years never did anything half-hearted, and had built a veritable labyrinth with his wealth and affluence.

Spoiler

As the pair approached the mouth of the cave, Azrael peered inside amplifying his vision to zoom in and look for any signs of weakness in the structure of upfront danger. Only large stalactites lined the mouth, hanging down precariously a good twelve to fifteen meters in length. The cave itself was quite old, and he suspected that there could very well be some indigenous wild-life calling the cave their home by now. Raising his arm, he called up the holo-print of the schematic they both had and noted their entry point and where the caches of vaults used to reside. It was not a completely accurate representation, but it had a good solid layout, that they could use to at least navigate by. Tracing a metallic digit across the glowing blue map, he silently wagered the path they would take when Isley asked to take point on this expedition.

"Aye vod, feel free. Looks like we've got a long way ahead of us though. With no power to this maze, we'll have to take things the old fashioned way." Azrael said as he deactivated the hologram projection and let Verd take point. Reaching to his thigh, he pulled free his Mark II Ripper and kept it at the ready. He didn't know what they would face in the cave if anything, but he'd be prepared. They both would be. "Any idea what you're looking for in here?" He asked as they began to approach the mouth and step foot into the former sanctum of the Empire. The world itself had been long since within the Mandalorian territory, but all the hallmarks of the former Empire lined the walls. They were essentially stepping back in time, almost a thousand years back in time. As the cave light dwindled, the activation of his night vision came on in an instant. He doubted very highly any power was being pumped into the mountain anymore, and they'd be going in blind if they couldn't see.

@[member="Dar'jetii"]

 

[Darth Metus]

The pat of the crimson-clad Mandalorian's hand upon Isley's armor, coupled with his words of confidence, came as a great source of encouragement for the young warrior. They inspired him with a great hope that their mission today would result in him being welcomed back to his people, with open arms. Ah, with each passing moment, the thought of returning home became nothing short of bliss; and as such he resolved that he would not fail this day. "Indeed it does," came his reply with a nod, "the Manda has blessed us with fortune this day. I look forward to seizing whatever spoils this ancient Mount has within so that I may finally return home."

Shortly thereafter, the HUD of the gold-clad Mandalorian's helmet came alive with a notification. It was a data transfer, compliments of Azrael, and once opened contained a layout of the Mount they were about to enter. To say the least, it was immensely more complex than what the Mandalorian had expected; however, Isley decided to evade the rumored labyrinth that laid below the entrance and focus upon reaching the vaults towards the top of the structure. Judging from the damage, he wagered that some of the paths inside the Mountain were blocked off...but he also wagered that some of the doors, which should have been of the highest quality due to them being put in place to guard Palpatine's valuables, would not be in the equation any longer.

He projected the map out of the holo-gram projector built into the palm of his armor and indicated a route with his finger. Starting from the entrance, which upon touching the light a crimson dot was placed, he drew a line up the initial shaft, through the "Cloning Chamber", up once more, along a passage, and finally up into the rumored location of the vaults. It was here that he hoped to find some sort of spoils that would suit his people well, or at least result in his proving his worth enough to return home with welcome arms.

"This is the route we'll be taking. I estimate that, since there is no power in this place, that we'll need to grapple our way up and proceed from there." he said, following suit with Azrael and reaching for his heavy blaster pistol. He retrieved it with a simple tug and held it aloft, stepping off towards the entrance of the cavern. Once within the darkness, his visor instantly adjusted so that he may see as clear as day. It was here that he answered Azrael's inquiry. "I seek nothing in particular...but I hope to find something, Sith in origin, that will allow our people to gain an advantage over our foe. Something that, upon being seen by the Manda'lor, will allow me to return home with my honor."

With that said, Isley continued on from the entrance and came to a halt before the ruins of the lift. The doors were partially blocked by fallen stones, and it was obvious that tremendous sums of age and the battle of old had done considerable damage to it. The Mandalorian holstered his blaster and eyed the stones carefully, before stepping forward and gripping one of the larger ones. Through sheer grit, he was able to unseat it from its position and cast it aside; leaving only smaller, more manageable stones to move.

"Only a handful more, then I surmise we'll have to get to the top of the lift itself and grapple from there."

@[member="Azrael"].

 

[Azrael]

Flanking the gold Mandalorian, his foot steps mirrored his vod as they both paced into the cavern's mouth and deeper heading towards the secret places long forgotten and laying in ruin. Tales of Mandalorian exploration were the stuff of legend, and they were often told with boastful zeal. Tales of epic adventures littered the culture, and Azrael was quite pleased to be a part of that long standing tradition. He had been on other missions of importance, but this was not a mission sanctioned or sent by Mand'alor, this was of just two brothers venturing into the unknown to retrieve history and return it for the favor of the Manda. What great purpose could they achieve than this most auspicious of quests?

"I have yet to encounter the Sith in close proximity myself. Certainly I have with the vode en masse and with you on Mon Calamari, but never in person." Azrael had spent most of his time fighting from ships, and on the rare occasions he got up close, it was to fight the Dark Harvesters, and the mindless but brutal infected of the Galaxy. A powerful and ultimately treacherous opponent such as the Sith was something foreign to him. He knew it would only be a matter of time, but he was simply hoping that'd when the day did arrive, he'd be ready. "I know little about the Force itself, enough to know that I don't connect with it, and that I'm not as much of a believer as others are." He admitted as they traversed further till they reached the blockade.

As Isley holstered his piece, Azrael mirrored the action watching Verd take the largest rock and cast it aside after a good amount of effort. Giving his neck a few cracks back and forth, the bionic Rally Master stepped forward placing his left metallic palm against one the rocks and instantly digging the sharpened tips of the hand into the rock itself. Five puncture wounds cracked the rock and allowed him the ability to move it, and fling it against a far wall with a loud crash. The echos roared in the cavern which caused him to mentally wince. The adjustment to volume was taken afterwards as he intended to repeat the action. He'd tossed scraps heavier than this when he was on Ord Mantell, and these rocks were proving to be little challenge for his enhanced and augmented limb.

"Looks like it might be a tight fit, but I wager it'll be passable." Azrael said as they cleared the rubble and debris to head closer towards the large and long shaft that rode from the depths of the mountain up towards the peak. Leaning just into the open duct, his gray eyes shifted upwards and let his helmet do the calculations. It was further up than he suspected, but there were several landing platforms along the way. "I've got about a two hundred meter span of cable I can release, should be able to reach the third tier from here." He said before taking a step forward and angling himself in proper aligment. Reaching up with his bionic arm, he took aim and closed his fingers. The cable launcher ejected with a shot and then rose like a bullet to a single ledge, digging into the rock-layers, and anchoring itself fast. "See you at the top vod." Pushing off and swinging into the shaft, he hit the ascension gear and began to climb quickly up the mono-filament cable until he could grapple the ledge and hoist himself up.

@[member="Dar'jetii"]​

 

[Darth Metus]

The task of removing the stones from their path was, more or less, negligable. After all, two physically capable Mandalorians would absolutely make short work of a pile of rubble. It did not take an unnecessarily long span of time to clear the obstactle that laid before them; and whilst the work occurred, the youngest of the pair continued the conversation. He began by considering the words spoken by his elder, and then recalling the instances that he had encountered members of the Sith Order on a personal, close-proximity level.

"I can safely say from experience, vod," began the gold-clad Mandalorian as he continued to heave away the stones, "the Sith are some of the more difficult opponents in the Galaxy. Back in the good days, I had encountered two Sith in particular...One was a rather attractive woman with a short temper, the other was the definition of gluttony. I personally went toe-to-toe with both at differing occasions, and can safely say that...the Force is one hell of a weapon. It almost makes me envious, for if we had such a tool at our regular disposal, our people would be feared across the stars more so than present. In any case, I don't know whether or not I'm tuned to the Force, never had a need to check; nor the means."

With that said, the work had come to a conclusion and the way forward had been cleared. True to the assessment uttered by Azrael, the path that lay before them was indeed a tight fit; and as such Isley had to scoot along carefully in order to step into the shaft. Afterwards, when the elder Mandalorian made his notes, elevated his bionic arm, and launched his cable upward before ascending up, Isley began to do the same. He reached into his utility belt and produced a similar grapple device and launched it upwards.

Once the line was secure, he checked the line's connection to his belt for safety and then activated the ascension gear. Promptly, he was hoisted upwards at a moderate pace, with his feet touching upon the shaft's walls every so often. At the top, Isley came to a halt and carefully detached his grapple, before referring to the holographic projection of the map. "Looks like," he said, making an adjustment to their itinerary, "we have quite the climb ahead of us. If we keep this route up, we'll hit the Cloning Chambers in no time."

As such, he once more launched his grapple up into the shaft, regarded his comrade with a respectful nod, and activated the gear to pull him up. This process was repeated approximately thrice more, until his boots came to a halt upon the tier leading to the cloning chamber. He tarried a moment, so that his elder could catch up, and then strode forward to the metal door which barred their path. As aforeknown, there was no power, so Isley had to breach the old fashioned way. Reaching within his utility belt, he affixed a charge onto the door's surface and then stepped back.

"Brace yourself." he warned, then blew the charge. The explosion wasn't large enough to warrant any fear of a rocky demise from collapsing stones, but it did make quite the clatter and send the door rocketing into the darkness of the Cloning Chamber. "Here's hoping there's not anything...alive in there...If there is, it'll be just like that one mission Verz and a lot of us went on a long time ago. Derelict Sith Ship, crawling with literal monsters..."

With that said, he strode forth into the darkness of the Cloning Chamber and began to look about.

@[member="Azrael"].

 

[Azrael]

Utilizing a combination of the cable launcher and his mag-seal boots, Azrael made quick work of the ascension up the long shaft that had once played host to turbolifts that would of made this climb a moot endeavor. Nearly a millenium ago, this place was a thriving fortress filled to the brim with secrets of the once Galactic Republic that had shifted into a Galactic Empire. It was a second-home to one of the most ruthless and devious men in the Galaxy who had nearly enslaved the entire Galaxy in his reign as Emperor. Now the Mandalorians were raiding his cache - and that just made it all the better to know that while Empire would crumble, power would change hands, and enemies would rise - the Mando'ade would live on. They would weather every storm, and never relent.

"I know of a few vod who use it, or know about it. Though I've not put much stock in things I couldn't see. Ord Mantell didn't have a lot of force users mulling around the scrap heaps. Out there, people got by with just what they had - and some occasional dumb luck." Azrael commented while he worked his way up the shaft alongside Verd. "Especially in the casinos." While he knew of the Force, and knew that there were some pretty fantastic things people could do with it, the Force hadn't directly impacted his life, and he doubted he was running in that circle now that would. "I don't know if it's religious zealots, or some kind of abnormal genetics that do it, but I don't see a need for it. The Manda gives everything we need - proven by our survival all these generations." He finished up as he grappled to the last ledge and adjusted the mono-filament cable to slip back into the chamber taking a few steps forward.

The sounds of metal clanging, and structures settling after being untouched for centuries gave an eerie background anthem to their journey thus far. Taking a knee as Isley set the charge, he turned his head to the side and counted down the seconds until the door blew free, and the smoke and metal shavings fell like ashen rain from the charge. Releasing again the Ripper from his thigh holster, the charcoal armored form rose and he stepped to flank Verd aiming the pistol back and forth while he relied on his HUD to light the way. The air was filled with settling dust, as a bluish-teal hue surrounded their presence. The fog looming in the colder chamber. No heat was being pumped into this room, and the temperatures over time had isolated to a frozen state. Filtration systems immediately kicked in to warm the breathable air into his lungs.

"Certainly seems abandoned, but if the blast doors were down and sealed, then they certainly didn't want anyone getting in without good reason." He said as he cautiously surveyed the area. Dozens of large glass-like tubes littered the floor rising to the ceiling. All well capable of housing an average person's size, and all seeming to glow with that bluish hue. Crystallization on the tanks though had just made the light reflect from the ice on them, giving that strange unnatural color. Footsteps on the durasteel floor cracked pockets of ice, giving the only audible sound in a chamber that echoed with their every step. "Or out." Azrael followed up while he kept the pistol at the ready, heeding Isley's earlier warning.

"Never met a clone either for that matter..have you?"

@[member="Dar'jetii"]