Posted 04 February 2018 - 04:09 PM
Elbows-deep in the guts of an ancient Basilisk, Connory watched the expedition take shape. They'd be leaving him soon, most of them, to venture into the caves.
"Call me Connory," he said to the new arrivals. They'd know his name; some might be carrying weapons he'd built. "My associate is Sargon Vynea - a master tracker and an old soldier. I've got work to do up here while you all explore. If more arrive, I'll send them down to join you."
He and Sargon had chatted en route. These rogue Mandalorians were a blank so far as Connory was concerned. Learning about their nature, plans, and usefulness was the goal here.
Posted 05 February 2018 - 04:37 AM
With nothing more then a nod Sargon acknowledged his introduction, his focus was at the moment deep in the Force as he reached out towards each member of the expedition. Nothing more then the slightest brush against their minds as he studied their signature within the Force. So these were the rogue Mandalorians, a curious group indeed, but then again that was the nature of the Mandalorian code wasn't it? The call of honor and battle could pull at any people, a culture unbroken by time or tribulation. Really it was quite the achievement, but those times of tribulation hardly seemed to be over for them.
Of course that could simply be what brought them here, perhaps the greatest asset here was a secure hold. A long dead planet that would barely be registered on charts. There were dozens of possibilities but he supposed simply musing wouldn't just guess it outright.Turning to Talia Fett he decided to start with the more obvious, "Are we expecting trouble here, or just habit?" He didn't mind a fight, but it was nice to know if it was expected.
Edited by Sargon Vynea, 05 February 2018 - 04:37 AM.
Posted 05 February 2018 - 11:01 AM
Why he had came, he wasn't quite sure. A pulling, a tug, a whispering in the Force that something was happening soon. Then this message, and it seemed to fall into place. Once more he had donned armor that was inconspicuous now. Muted colors and designs of a Mandalorian Protector. He would die wearing these colors if he had his way. As usual, he would have been carrying enough weapons to make an armorer blush. But now, he carried only a pair of DE-10's, and a massive hammer across his back, like a blacksmiths hammer but oversized in the extreme. Other than these and the armor itself, he was oddly light on his feet.
With a crunch, he sat down on the fallen droid Connory worked on, and smiled to the other. Most didn't remember his knack for technology. He kept his intellect a tight secret, actually. Why bother now?
"I've fixed one of this Era almost. It's not too difficult, but the motivator and uplink are of something i've never seen. The beskar forging techniques are also lost to even me. They understand the iron in a way I can only dream of. Trick to making them as good as they once were is replacing as little as possible. Once you understand their makers mindset, it becomes a bit easier. Just be careful, the one I fixed up had a bloody failsafe that was wired to the internals, and tripped the shockwave generator... Have to bypass that first..."
Turning, he nodded to the one of the group her knew, Talia Fett, and waited.
Posted 05 February 2018 - 01:08 PM
"Tonka is a hunter." He said with obvious pride.
He walked forward toward the camp and took off his oversized pack and shotgun. He sat the gear down and settled himself heavily on his backside. Dust flew up from his fall and he began rumaging in his bag for a small prize. He pulled a bag of Krayt Dragon jerky in a homemade sack out and popped a strip into his mouth before offering it to anyone who felt like looking his way.
It took him a moment to realize that they were already moving on. He stood replaced his gear into the bag and picked up the size appropriate shotgun. Without a question he simply began following the others. Pack mindset at it's finest.
Ijaat Mereel Kade Kol-Rekali Connory Mereel Vaun Sargon Vynea Mirshko Betna Cato Fett Talia Fett
Posted 05 February 2018 - 10:46 PM
Kuar - Surface Courtyard - heading below ground
Mirshko drew herself to a stop in the courtyard as she studied the half dozen or so people who stood or sat around the courtyard's perimeter. She knew none of them as far as she could tell. Her gaze tracked towards the one who'd spoken to her and she tilted her head slightly in mild confusion. She took a moment to briefly extend her awareness to those around her. She had also sensed the presence of those who had been here centuries before... though it was quite faint. She swallowed slightly before responding. "WHo knows what we'll find. Hopefully something interesting and useful." She tried to keep her voice firm but just seeing this many Mandalorians in one place brought back memories of her childhood.
The other woman in the group spoke up then and introduced a few others as Mirshko tried to get a decent look at all who were there so she could hopefully at least associate armor with who they were. She frowned as she tried to commit the details to memory. But, she also couldn't deny the emotions which began to well up as she looked around at those gathered. It had been quite some time since she'd seen so many gathered in one place. And she hoped that they were successful in whatever it was that they sought by coming to this place.
Waiting until Talia had finished speaking, she then spoke up. "I'm.... Mirshko Betna..." she said somewhat softly as she looked around at those gathered. Just as she didn't recognize any of them, they probably had no clue who she was. Maybe that was a good thing. Shaking herself slightly, she turned around as she could hear footfalls crunching on the debris strewn across the ground. She watched the one wearing Protector colors (Ijaat) move through the group and plunk himself down on the ancient hulk of the bes'uliik.
Something clenched in her chest as she noticed the colors... and where he chose to sit. Breathe... she scolded herself as she could feel emotions clenching into a ball in her chest. Something about the man himself seemed familiar, but she couldn't sort out what it was. A few deep breaths to steady herself helped a little. But she could still feel the knot settle in her stomach regardless. Sighing softly, she settled on giving the man a nod and turned to follow the one who had spoken to her.
Edited by Mirshko Betna, 06 February 2018 - 08:28 PM.
Posted 06 February 2018 - 04:04 AM
Kuar Orbit -> Kuar Surface
The starwing blasted through the atmosphere breaking the sound barrier, smoke trailing from its tail and flares of fire growing on its starport. Debris of melting steel kept falling dismembering slowly but surely the starfighter. Within it a young TIE pilot of the Imperial Navy was repeating the word 'chit' ever since he hit hyperspace WITHIN the atmosphere of Tatooine to save his life and by accident. Contradictory indeed. Atticus had tried one thing but a malfunction from the damage he had sustained did...this.
Nav computer was giving every error possible so the young pilot was unaware where the hell he was falling in.
Not that it mattered. Death was calling him the moment that ridiculous mistake occured. He'd thought he'd die before he went into hyperspace and THEN he was stuck with praying for his life in the confines of hyperspace hoping he would not exit in the middle of a sun since his nav computer was going mad.
He did not die then but this freefall down seemed to be the moment he should start writing his rites.
Panic, adrenaline and tears mixed together as the young pilot tried taking control off the falling comet. Air brakes, backthrusters, everything was strained to the max before it gave in.
"Okay, okay. Glide, glide." He switched his engines off. "Still to fethin' fast."
Ejecting was out of the question - the mechanism was long broken rising the question of what's going on with the Imperial Standard of Quality.
He forced all his strength into pulling the center stick to the point where odd sounds were coming from the actuators responding to the impossible task the pilot was forcing it to do. Red lights were flashing everywhere. He'd long disabled any sort of safety measures the electronics had in place or else he'd already be dead.
By sheer luck or skill, or both. The nose lifted itself up putting the starfighter in a way it could glide. The cost of that maneuver was the busting of hydraulics within, the blue-ish fluid quickly ran out off the starfighter leaving the controls of the ship to Atticus severly limited.
"Chit, chit, chit."
Barely able to keep control of the starfighter, visible in its shaking and sharp twists to the left and to the right, Atticus magically landed without crashing like a bomb beginning a near endless drift through flora and fauna, or well more like junk parts of a graveyard. Combing through 'nature', the starfighter finally made its halt into a bunch of thicker framed ex-freighter.
The pilot's world turned black.
Edited by Atticus Rhein, 06 February 2018 - 04:04 AM.
Posted 06 February 2018 - 04:46 AM
Cato paused for a beat until Mereel and Mirshko were well caught up before setting a brisk march. There was an impoliteness to any brusqueness, and manners counted heavily towards most Mando’ade interaction, but he could not lose the tumult compelling his steps and his soul. He managed a swift, last wave over his shoulder to those idling in the courtyard and snapped on a glow-rod, leading on past the mouth of an abrasion-worn portcullis and down the gentle ramping of a long, curling spiral. Evening starlight left them. Chemical light coloured the heat-smoothed sandstone arcades pillaring the walling surrounding them.
“…Kuaran’s fought tooth and nail.” He toed desiccated remains left sprawled across the herringbone stones. In places, the dead had been abruptly piled as makeshift barricades and suppressive fire pulpits. There was emptied carbines, discharged LMG’s, depowered vibro-weaponry and deadened ordnance. Abandoned fighting halberds dropped so thickly in places they temporarily cushioned their boots off the stone. Crusaders in their casement were virtually indistinguishable from their foes, torn and hacked, broken from millennia left to quietly subsume to dust, waiting for a wind to carry and scatter their essence back into the world.
“Open grottos ahead,” Cato said, consulting acoustic returns through his HUD feed. “Locals were sensitive to light. So all their holdings were built and carved out below the surface. Cities. Townships. No telling what gave the Crusaders cause to come in and prosecute out-and-out warfare. Though if our memories are true, they didn’t need much provocation.”
A bassy reverb looped and recoiled through the stone tunnel. Sound of steel wrenching on feldspar and quartz rock. Cato paused, stepping round and peering back into the long darkness tucking up and away through the passage. His thumb propped his sword-guard an inch free of its scabbard, a hand tapping at the antenna housing on his helm. “Someone on deck. We just felt that below. What’s happened?”
Edited by Cato Fett, 07 February 2018 - 07:01 PM.
Posted 07 February 2018 - 12:11 PM
On the Surface
She watched the group file away into the darkness, leaving, herself, Connory, Sargon and Ijaat on the surface. The tension seemed to ease a little, but didn't quite ease her way from its shoulders. Two of their number were unknown variables, sure Connory had a reputation of late for sticking his middle finger up at the Empire, especially with bounties on a few prominent heads, but prior to that? His history was spotty and erratic at best, as much so as the woman he'd been married to. Her eyes slid to Ijaat, a shadow of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. From him she had nothing to fear.
Talia laughed an Sargon's question her gaze swingin back to him. "A little of both. I make a living taking advantage of people who don't expect trouble, so my natural instinct is to always expect trouble." He gaze slid from him to Ijaat and she nodded his way. "Especially when you're standing alongside public enemy number one."
A sonic boom reverberated over there heads, the distint noise of something hitting the atmosphere a little to hot and the smile dropped from her face. "See," she said shoving her helmet back on. "Always trouble." Inside the helmet a series of commands activated her ships sensors, stirring the AI within it for a report as she watched the fighter draw nearer. "Tags mark it as a vessel belonging to the Galactic Empire. It is alone...and damaged. Would you like me to continue monitoring?"
"Keep your eyes on the skies and tell me if anything else shows up, I can monitor it from here." she answered via internal comms, before switching them out, her voice filtering through her helmets speakers as it careened over their headed, landing west a good klick away. If you could call it landing. Cato's voice crackled over the comms. "Fighter just crash landed, its alone. We're going to investigate."
She slid a scattergun from her back and moved past the others, tapping Ijaat's arm as she passed. "Come on." she said softly, though there was no arguing with her.
Edited by Talia Fett, 07 February 2018 - 12:12 PM.
Posted 07 February 2018 - 11:32 PM
Mereel raised his rifle in response to the sudden thunderous sound. He realized that the instinctual gesture would do him no good here - you couldn't win a fight against a collapsing tunnel by shooting the rocks about to crush you.
Nonetheless, he kept his rifle pointed down the tunnel ahead of the Mandalorian party. It was probably a silly question to ask, but he asked it anyway to assuage his newfound fear of the tunnel system they were in, "I'm guessing the Kuar tunnels can handle a fighter crashing above them, right? If they couldn't, wouldn't the Mandos just bury the place from orbit?"
Posted 08 February 2018 - 03:46 PM
Connory extricated himself from the guts of the basilisk and squinted up at the man who'd appeared on its back. He chewed on his words for a minute. Ijaat Mereel could have meant his statement as goodwill or tacit dominance or somewhere in between. Either way, he'd almost certainly been just as crucial to Mia's implosion as Velok's memories had been. But on the other hand, the past was the past, and if the Mandalorian Empire had two quintessential enemies, Mereel and Connory were it. He settled for a grunt and kept working. The shockwave rod thing had been new to him. He couldn't say whether he'd have caught it on his own.
Posted 08 February 2018 - 04:04 PM
As Talia Fett started off, Ijaat stood. For a moment, he eyed Connory and sighed inwardly. A bit of armor dropped from his hand. A piece in colors that would be familiar only to the other working on the droid. It bounced, rolled, and landed at his feet. It was a chest diamond from a set of beskar'gam. Connory was smart enough to realize the curving of it made it a female set it came from. And his bared face stared at the other for a moment.
"When he's old enough, you have him find me and bring that. I'll clad him in kandar from head to toe in the old ceremonies, and fit him with weapons made deserving of him. I'll spend every ounce I have for the lad. I owe her, and you, that. I don't like red in my ledger, and willing it or not you and I are apt to be intertwined now. Best get used to one another, roughly. You need anything for him, or yourself... I'm not hard to find, I swore to her in penance"
With a nod to indicate the sworn was Talia, he plopped on his helmet and sealed it, and with a stiff stance his repulsors whined and suddenly he was rocketing off from the ground towards the crash, uplinking feed to Talia as he reached the destination swiftly and landed with a crunch and a thud, pistols whipping out as he approached, speakers in his helmet amping to riot control level and distorting his voice to something akin to a god stuffed into a tin can.
"Anyone in the craft, if you can hear me, call out."
Posted 08 February 2018 - 04:10 PM
"Ship crashed." He said as simple as the thought that had given the words birth, "Tonka will check."
True to his words he hefted the huge shotgun off his shoulder and began stalking with odd grace toward the crash site. He was a product of evolution, though his people had a grand tale about their existance, the long and short of it was he was a born hunter.
The debris was scattered over several meters but most of the pieces were small and cosmetic. The main portion of the cockpit that held the terrible pilot of the ship was battered but intact. There was a chance, a slight chance, the pilot had survived. Tonka walked forward with less caution now and stopped to loom over the wreckage as he thought what to do next. It came to him, eventually, that he should indeed check for the pilot and so he did, in his own way.
He reached for the wreck and put a heavy foot against one portion then jammed his thick fingers onto a crease and pulled. Heavy muscles strained and bunched as he pulled. The creaking and groaning of metal filled his ears as the two pieces slowly came apart far enough for the big creature to reach inside. A massive hand closed around the pilot and he yanked the body against the crashwebbing and quickly removed the pilot from the tangled mass of durasteel that had been a fighter of some kind.
He held the man up and looked at him with a critical eye in the way a child might hold a dropped doll and check for broken pieces. He made a decision.
"Pilot not dead." He said into the comlink, "smells bad though. Tonka bring it."
Connory Sargon Vynea Ijaat Mereel Mirshko Betna Atticus Rhein Cato Fett Talia Fett Mereel Vaun
Posted 08 February 2018 - 05:37 PM
As the ship crashed down the Zabrak couldn't help a small shake of the head, seems the party was just getting started. An interesting crowd was growing on the dead planet, more life then it had known in quite some time. Then again it seemed like something the Force would push along, bringing back life where it could be sustained and grow. Watching the trio walk off towards the crashed ship Sargon couldn't help but give the one man's hammer a bit of a stare. It was a respectable thing in his mind to be a bit unconventional in an age of lightsabers and blasters. More so considering the strength of the galaxy's strongest armors were usually less resistant to shock damage then anything else. Everyone wanted to last through the heat and energy of being shot or sliced at by a lightsaber, but very few seemed to give consideration to the literal weight of a weapon. Of course he could also be bias, after all a man wielding sword and shield could hardly be considered the norm these days.
Glancing at object on the ground he spoke softly as they had the courtyard mostly to themselves for the moment. "Interesting group you've got here, wary as can be to boot. I don't know much about Mando's but that one at least didn't seem to be your enemy, or at least your son's. I've heard it said though you can see the truth of a man's character by how he treats those in his power. Suppose we're about to see how that adds up now."
Edited by Sargon Vynea, 08 February 2018 - 05:37 PM.
Posted 09 February 2018 - 12:51 PM
Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again.
Dreams told the stories of your most wanted desires.
In a fragment of a moment his dreams shook, tumbled and spun. A voice called, almost robotic. A moment later another one pierced his mind, it was deep and sounded inhumane. The world of dreams flickered and disappeared to be replaced by a blurred picture of colors, an awful smell and someone breathing really close to his face.
That probably explained the smell.
His headache could easily be compared to that if a hammer was knocking it with a strength of a wookie behind it. The fact that he was upside down being...held by something did not help alleviate that pain. Blinking, trying to focus as his vision turned double before restoring some basic functions and exposing what held him by his foot upside down and inspected him.
"LET ME DOWN, BEAST. I AM A NAVAL OFFICER OF THE IMPERIAL NAVY." His voice seemed much louder than it was supposed to be considering his condition. He reached for his holster but his pistol had fallen down into the cockpit after he had been picked up by the...big hairy scary thing. "I demand you let me down now for very soon, per protocol, a naval dispatched search & rescue team will be arriving."
Or so he hoped. Did the distress signal even work after he'd hit it?
Was he delirious and reciting scripts he'd learned by heart during his days in the Naval Academy of the Empire? He'd only recently graduated. Probably a few days of flying before he had to respond to a massive invasion over Tatooine.
Speaking of Tatooine - he started slowly remembering the misadventure that led him to...
Where was he?
And why were dreadfully renown T-visors approaching from behind.
Sweat broke on his forehead.
Posted 09 February 2018 - 09:39 PM
Sargon Vynea Ijaat Mereel Talia Fett
Connory closed his fist around the chest diamond. Had she been wearing this armor when Ra dragged her through the streets? "No, he's not my enemy," he said quietly. "I might be his, though. Fether burned half my homeworld out of pique. But if there's anyone the Mando Empire wants more than my kid, and if there's anyone they should fear more than me, it's him. So yeah, one day I'll probably put a blade through him or the other way around, but for now?"
He slipped the beskar rhomboid into a belt pouch and stood. The basilisk's belly clanged shut.
"Got too many enemies to make more on short notice."
A huge AT-B basilisk stomped up. Big fething claws hauled the wreck free of several dozen centuries' dirt.
Posted 09 February 2018 - 11:45 PM
Still cautious, Mirshko moved to follow Cato as their small group parted ways from the rest. There was something about this place which made her extra cautious - even though she could tell that they were very much alone here. Old habits die hard, she thought to herself as she shook her head. Cato began to talk about the Kuarans..... the race which had inhabited the world centuries before. Even still, there were desiccated remains - crumbling armor and weapons which fell away as he toed it aside to allow them to pass.
Their progress was relatively slow as they carefully worked their way through the tunnels and passages carved into the rocks. The walls were pretty smooth, but here and there she could see some cracked or shattered floor tiles from the battle centuries ago. After several minutes of progressing through the passageways, they finally reached one of the grottos Cato had mentioned. As they emerged from the tunnel. Mirshko looked up and around, her eyes widening beneath her helmet. The grotto was lined with precisely carved building facades and balconies and walkways lined the walls as far as she could see.
As they stood there, she too felt the ground rumble. Her glance first went to Cato as she heard the crackle of their comms as he questioned those who had remained topside. A frown crossed her face as she listened to the response. And while Mereel's question was slightly amusing, she had to admit he had a very valid point. "I really hope they can..." she said softly with a glance toward Cato. "It felt like that ship impacted quite hard and fast..." she observed as she began to slowly scan the room and look for things of interest.
Edited by Mirshko Betna, 10 February 2018 - 12:28 AM.
Posted 10 February 2018 - 02:06 AM
“Perhaps,” Cato said at Mereel. “Do you think it’s courageous sealing a people’s fate, from miles above in orbit?”
He looked across the expansive grotto, turning his torchlight at the faces of false-arcades, deep-set architraves styled with masonic figures carved in the wide lips of fashioned brick, at rows of engaged colonnades marking centres of administration, commerce, and learning. Ravine avenues meandered away from the central square, similarly structure-lined. Everywhere was evidence of pitched fighting: smashed rock, the square basin augured and blemished with detonated craters, crashed besu’liik, frames deliberately cannibalized and sorted as waiting scrap, score marks tracing sooty lines up the grotto walls. The Kruaran dead were accorded some rights in death: massed pyramids of cleaned and polished skulls ordered in trios throughout the long city square. Polearms and fighting spears were planted where they fell, bristling under their torch-lamps.
“You see? Kuaran dead, but the Crusaders took away their own from this place. It doesn’t account for the fighters left in the passage, but perhaps… It takes a lot of bodies to kill another race. Maybe they just ran out of time,” Cato said. Even aloud, the grotto’s scope and earthen depth subdued his voice to a relative whisper. He began walking through the forest of naked spear hafts dug into the stone.
“We need resources,” He said to the pair. “Stored arms and armour. Besu’liik depots. Anything the Crusaders left behind that’s not age decayed. Anything.”
Cato pointed towards a slight of narrow steps sloping toward a high, box-arched double-door, set against glyphic reliefs machined into flattened quartz. “I’m going in there.”
Posted 11 February 2018 - 12:47 AM
Mereel looked to where Cato pointed and simply nodded in response. He looked around the vast chamber, hoping to see something flash out at him with neon lights saying 'please salvage me'.
Alas, he saw no such sign, but he did see several buildings that looked administrative in nature. Perhaps something in those buildings could be of interest? Taking note that everything around the trio was suitably dead, Mereel slung his rifle around his back. "Think I'm going for a stroll myself. Maybe inspect the finer administrative facilities that this city has to offer."
He turned to walk off down an avenue branching off from the city square, what looked like a commerce building was just down the lane. "If you need me, try commfrequency 173-B! If I'm not dead I'll pick up."
Posted 12 February 2018 - 08:08 AM