A Cluster in Turmoil [ Mando'ade Dominion of Hapes Hex ]

[Alkor Centaris]

There comes a time in every man's life that he has to question everything he knows. For some of us, it comes early. In other cases men experience this in the autumn of their lives, just before death comes to claim them. Alkor Centaris has struggled with his identity for nearly half of his life.

The two stand in a room designated for target practice, one out of place in his own skin while the other remains oblivious to his struggle. While they converse and he slowly begins to understand her motivations, he also begins to realize that his own have been lost for a very long time.

This is what it feels like to be Alkor, right now.

Your hand is there. You can physically see that it exists, touch it, and move it to a limited degree; but you cannot feel it. From elbow to fingertips, there is no natural sensation. The dull pain that lances up your arm when you attempt to move your fingers is the residual effect of atrophy- it will not last, it never does.

All around you, you are aware of strange, tumultuous emotions. Uncertainty and fear, hate and desperation. Closest to you, there is a warmth, and you can recognize it as hope. You've felt this before, but you always dismissed it. Now, it is directed at you, and you find yourself at a loss.

The recent memory of a lost friend's voice remains with you.

So you listen as the woman talks. She smiles, and she laughs, and she does everything that people do, everything that you've never done. That you have never felt compelled to do. For that, you find not envy so much as a desire to understand. This human experience she lives every day, you don't necessarily want it, but you strive to connect with people who have it.

You're tired of being completely alone, despite being surrounded by people. Friends. You're sick of not belonging anywhere. So, when she prompts you to speak, you try your best to give her an answer. She frowns, then laughs. She knows you're lost. She puts up with it, because that's what friends do.

But you know it tears her apart inside, because you can feel it. And you're sick of that, too. You're always disappointing someone.

That is what it feels like to be Alkor Centaris, right now.

 

[Malok]

If I could change one thing...

There was an edge to the ethereal voice. Effort. Strain. Despite treading a path between life and death, power was not infinite. To muster the strength he had whilst living, Isley had to sentence himself to death. And a part of him...didn't want to. A part of him felt ice in the pit of his charred stomach. A part of him was terrified of going through it all again. But. He had to. He knew that, if the world exploded against his kin right this moment, he would die again. And thus did he steel himself...thus did the Sparks begin.

I would have cared less about Power. Less about Prestige. I would have devoted those years to finding my children; to finding you...I would have tried to be the father you all deserve.

The heat was rising.

The twin embers looked down upon his child.

Every second mattered and so he burned her into his mind. Every stray strand of hair. His nose. Ajira's cheeks. He memorized his daughter...he wrote her on his heart. And thus, with [member="Amaya Verd"] as his final sight, the late Warmaster gave it his all. Everything that tethered him to this sordid state of being was given up so that his sister was not alone. Ash. He became Ash. The Undying crumbled in a mere matter of seconds before scattering about the room.

And in his wake...

Shadow.

Glistening eyes rose from the ashes. Darkness defined them. They moved as Smoke: a horde. A specialty of the Undying. He died...so that his minions could live. Swift. They moved as a blur, crossing the distance between Amaya and [member="Keira Ticon"] in but the blink of an eye. Yet the latter would not sense a cadre of evil. No. She would feel her brother, running to her defense.

 

[Vilaz Munin]

Location: Tanaab
Allies: Mandos and Sith ([member="Krest"] [member="Ardgal Raxis"] [member="Rashae"] [member="Stardust Raxis"] [member="Satia"] [member="Nolan Detta"])
Enemies: Echani
Objective: 3
Post: 7/20

When the Zabrak approached Vilaz, the Concordian knew that the alien was not a Mandalorian nor was he an enemy. By the warrior's appearance of his style of clothing and weapons, particularly the crimson lightsaber, the Mandalorian could tell that he was a Sith. Did it surprised him that someone from the Sith Order had come to help him on Tanaab? No, it did not. Recently, the Sole Ruler made diplomacy with the Sith and established a mutual relationship with them. The Mandalorians would fight alongside the Sith, and the Sith would pay them in whatever form of currency they wished to have.

Just like the ancient times when the two factions collaborated with each other.

"Good, I need you to help me get out the survivor from that downed frigate," he motioned for Mandalorian crashed vessel on the ground before them, "once we've done that, then we can focus on killing these damn Echani."

And a caliber like Krest would surely quickly process that objective to completion.

 

[Ria Misrani]

Objective 1: A Consumed People
Location: Hapes Cluster; Hapes
Allies: [member="Keira Ticon"]
Enemies: Dar'Manda / Sith
Post 10

And thus Amaya ran, with her father's axe in hand and his words burned into her mind, into her heart. The sounds of her boots against the floor, the metal grates shifted and groaned as the young Mandalorian rushed through. Renewed with a sense of purpose she turned the corner and found the bridge she had crossed before and looked down. [member="Dredge"] and Keira seemed to be locked in battle. With a war cry unleashed from the depths of her lungs, the brunette made haste toward her family her eyes looked at their surroundings. She focused on the battle at hand and wanted to find a way to help. Tomahawk and sword, it was all she had - small bladed weapons fit for a warrior who was just starting out. Amaya's boots kept going and she placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. The direct route would leave her family vulnerable as no doubt Dredge would see her straight away, Amaya shifted and changed directions heading around the fight with the hopes of gaining some element of surprise.

 

[Lok Xiangu]

Location: Korda
Allies: Mandos ([member="Jaig Vizsla"])
Enemies: N/A
Objective: BYOO
Post: 8/10

Korda was touched by the Mandalorians once during the time of civil war, and three sects rose up from the divided culture. This place was historic, recorded by Mandalorians, as it was the place where Mand'alor Jaster Mereel was betrayed and killed by the Death Watch. Yet surprisingly after that event it was left untouched for many years and generations.

Until today.

Death Watch had rose again from the ashes, but its intentions unlike its ancestors was not to bring conflict to their own brothers and sisters in arms. No, that was illogical and unnecessary. Instead they were an extension of the Aka'liit and would bring terror and immoral wrath to those that deemed to deserve it. And here, where a Sole Ruler was killed, would be the base for the Kyr'tsad.

"Tents are all set up, Vizsla. What next?"

Why had Lok joined the Death Watch? It was an ideal that his adopted father once joined but only to destroy the weak regime of the Alor'e Council that once ruled the Mandalorians and to bring back its warriors on the right path. Not to mention his stepmother hated the group as it was responsible for killing her older brother, but the outlaw was sure she would get along with this reformed Death Watch. He simply joined its ranks because it reflected on his personality. Loose, immoral and indifferent to foreigners, and wild. That was his type of thing.

 

[Zef Halo]

KORDA
Setting up Kyr'tsad Outpost

Historical. Monumental. Sentimental.

It did not matter much to Jaig but it did to most, if not all, Mandalorians.

The Vizsla had been doing some preventative maintenance on different arms laid on the table while Mand'alor's son stood beside him supervising. The boy was young to aruetii standards but not to Mandalorian ones. All had to start somewhere. To learn. To improve. To lead.

"Good. How are the sentry posts coming along?"


[member="Lok Munin"]

 

[Lok Xiangu]

Location: Korda
Allies: Mandos ([member="Jaig Vizsla"])
Enemies: N/A
Objective: BYOO
Post: 9/20

"They're almost done. The guys will get out what can be done, and we can later upgrade it."

They were just starting out on their homebase. Korda was a perfect place for it. Based out in the forests of the planet with only a circumference of tents that gathered around. Sentries were outside of the perimeter of the camp as they laid out defensive measures for anything that came to their way. But it was unlikeable anyone would trespass. The only people that really knew was Lok, Jaig, and Vilaz. So far it was a discreet thing that the Mando'ade supported the Death Watch.

"Have you seen that new book by that Merrill person? I bet ya my dad is gonna send someone to shut her mouth."

Then a joint of spice perched itself on his lips, and the youngster took an inhale of the drug.

 

[Zef Halo]

KORDA
Setting up Kyr'tsad Outpost.

"No."

Jaig methodically proceeded with taking care of the weapons that laid before him. A dubious odor paved its way through his nostrils and the Vizsla slowly turned around to face the young Munin.

Spice.

"Enemies do not kill you. Death comes to those that allow it."

[member="Lok Munin"]

 

[Lok Xiangu]

Location: Korda
Allies: Mandos
Enemies: Lol
Objective: BYOO
Post: 10/20

"I didn't know you were the philosophical type, Vizsla," the youngster said to his boss, not challenging him or anything but he did look the man straight into the eyes and then blinked after some seconds. There was a reason why the Mand'alor chose Jaig as his loose hound. Unemotional, no play around, no lollygagging, and having that fearful demeanor of them.

Vilaz would display his emotions at times in front of his warriors, but the Vizsla was like a void of it. Maybe it was that Vizsla blood in his veins.

"Anyways, what plans do we have? Shoot up a Senate building?"

 

[Zef Halo]

KORDA
Setting up Kyr'tsad Outpost

The Vizsla's cold and emotionless stare remained silently fixated upon the young Munin. A few moments passed in silence after the younger Mandalorian had spoken when Jaig turned around and headed away from the table with weapons.

"Finish the rest of the weapon."

The tall Mandalorian entered the tent designated to be as the outposts' communications and monitoring suite. There was some calibration that needed to be done to the long-range scanners.

[member="Lok Munin"]

 

[Lok Xiangu]

"Aight," was the simple reply of the Munin as the Vizsla left the weapon and walked towards the communications sector. He would not seek or bother Jaig because the last thing he wanted was a cold and blank stare fixed on him for a whole minute.

One thing he did like doing was putting the pieces together and making a weapon. Just by the looks of it, it seemed to be some sort of rifle that used energy ammo for its projectiles. Hopefully it was a disruptor type blaster. So much was said about Lok of what type of weaponry he preferred. Weapons that could make someone lethally disappear out of nowhere.

He was then done, and then exited the tent with the weapon on the table. He would then take a hike to the armory of the outpost to see how well supplied they were.

[member="Jaig Vizsla"]

 

[Nolan Detta]

Tanaab
Post 5
Allies: not in this state of mind.

As the battle raged, so too did the Wreckingball. He'd somehow gained access to an Echani dropship and was flying through the air, hosing the enemies with repeater fire. The comm unit onboard was exploding with Echani talk. Nolan didn't speak a lick and didn't care. He keyed the comms after a flyby, and screamed into the mic...

"Ash'amur, anay kyr'yc solus be gar!!" The Wreckingball pulled up, taking fire from below as he angled for the sun.

He flew straight up and let the engines stall out, as the ship tilted back towards the ground, Nolan walked to the back of the ship, mag boots keeping him grounded, he opened the ramp and jumped out. As he fell away, he primed and threw every explosive he had on him. Thermals, Forcebreakers, Flashbangs... The ship fell, and exploded right before it crashed into the Echani line. The multitude of grenades added a certain flair to the act, as the gases and magnesium and pyrotechnics lit up the surrounding area in death, glorious death. Nolan flew away from the Echani line. His body had reached its limits, his mind was exposed to the realization of his limitations. He fell, but before impacting the ground, he activated the shields on his armor. Hoping it would soften the blow. Not really. A few dozen meters from the Mandalorian line, the Wreckingball slammed into the ground and rolled to stop, rag dolled and unconscious. The lights on his HUD flashed all the warnings it had at its disposal. System failure, multiple damage alerts, power failure... he was all but dead in the water.

[member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Ardgal Raxis"] [member="Stardust Raxis"] [member="Rashae"] @Anyone I forgot

 

[Rashae]

All the data was documented with intake as well as blood samples. The doctor and medic/nurse both reassured Virgil that Raxis clan was in good hands. Once that team got Virgil Raxis into the stasis pod, she could see Ardgal being worked on by the Minister herself.

“Dont worry Raxis, our Minister is a genetics expert as well as a doctor. She will get all that sorted. “ The doctor subordinant would pat the woman warrior on the shoulder gently with a pleasant smile. “rest easy.”

Rashae's head would turn to her team keeping both patients monitoring and tending to the moderate wounds and recently wounded to just get them out of there. Their corvette had the shiny chrome defiled with ash and dark spots of where she took fire. When Ardgal requested his men focus on saving the Mand'alor she huffed a bit of a chuckle down into his face as she quirked a glacial smile.

“That tough son of a gun is fine. He is uninjured as far as I know and from what I hear, fixing to hand out some hell in healthy doses. Seems like certain individuals on the planet surface need a lesson in manners of some kind. I suppose Munin will see to that. “ Was that a sense of humor in that icy answer? It might be difficult to tell.

There was no small amount of relief as her eyes were caught in the General's own. She saw the strength and will to live she had come to know in the Mandalorians. If his body wasnt so bad, he probably get up off of there and join the line with Munin.

“Don't thank me yet. You may not like what I have to do to put you back together.” The woman said in her offhand stoic way as she checked his drain tube and iv for the umpteenth time.

Indeed once the ship was in its ascent, once there was little to know hostile fire trying to make holes into the medical corvette, the raven haired doctor could look at the blood samples. Initials were ran by a good computer but for what she wanted would need to be processed by a larger computer on board of the Padme. Already the initial findings of both

Virgil's genetics and Ardgal had her tapping her chin with a long aristocratic finger. The question came up more than once, “Why did they do it that way?”

It wasnt in confusion. The expression on her face had her in a driven and curious mode of thought. She would check on both to see if they are resting comfortably when the message came in from Ardgal's fleet. Apparently he was this General or something. Generals were important of course but she wasnt going to try and make sense out of rankings at the moment. Rashae had moved to the cockpit of the corvette to listen to the transmission from the General's people.

“Prometheus, we indeed have them. They are still critical at this time. “ She paused as she smiled at their further words. “I dont like to loose Prometheus, your General and his cousin will get the best care my staff and I can provide. I need any cybernetic data or parts for the General or Virgil to be sent to my cybernetics expert. “ She perhaps was cold on purpose as she was still in work mode.

“Prometheus, see if you can provide some assistance to the hapan royal forces to keep the lane clear to the Padme. My bird here kind of got beaten up down there. “ her Medical corvettes were not very defensible, but her pilots were republic exiles. They kind of had a knack of making do with what they had to the most of what can be bled out of the situation.

She looked at the pilot and navigator. “We good?”

“This one will need repairs before she goes out again but we will make it back.” Said the pilot.

Rashae nodded before going back down to oversee her critical patients. The flight to the Padme and the subsequent off boarding to stage up into the surgical suites went about as expected. Now she could plug in those blood samples into her computer systems and let them chew on that data while she prepped for surgery. Virgil was in an adjoining surgical suite with a different team as she went in to take care of Adgal. Up on the display was various pieces of information as she had already made adjustments to both of their medications in difference to their genetic information.

Two hours later Virgil was in recovery. Doctor Lovous and the cybernetics expert was still working on Ardgal that took another two hours to get his condition to critical but stable. Ardgal was placed in a private recovery room considering how much technology was in the man as well as monitoring the flesh parts. Now to wait for the both of them to come to. The exhausted doctor may have fallen asleep at the chair in quiet soft repose.


[member='Vilaz Munin'] [member='Ardgal Raxis'] [member='Stardust Raxis'] [member='Strider Garon'] [member='Nolan Detta'] [member='Jack Raxis'] [member='Relina Zhan'] sorry if i forgot someone.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Post: 8
Objective: Make it through Alive
Allies [member="Rashae"]

“That tough son of a gun is fine. He is uninjured as far as I know and from what I hear, fixing to hand out some hell in healthy doses. Seems like certain individuals on the planet surface need a lesson in manners of some kind. I suppose Munin will see to that. “

Ardgal was not a patriot. Before he had been warped by Project: Madman, he had been a reject among his own. The warrior's entire clan, or at least the ones he ran with, had been tossed to the dogs more than once. He had lost his faith in his people. Then he had been twisted, changed into a war machine to be pushed around and used to fight other people's battles. But now he had something to fight for, something to believe in and damn it he would die doing so. At her words he gave a half nod and laid his head back more relaxed mentally as well as physically. "Good."

“Don't thank me yet. You may not like what I have to do to put you back together.”

"You will do what you can," he said with good faith in reply. He could swear that no matter how horrific the twisted machinations she had to subdue him to it would be nothing compared to the history that haunted his soulless form. He would have to tell her sometime--probably when he knew her much much better. "Its good enough for me."

Prometheus, the daring commodore leading the tiny Raxis fleet of Corvettes and gunships did everything his plucky and aged ships could to keep the doctor and her own clear of any damage. A host of data would be sent to the cybernetics expert, in great length and meticulous order. It was all they had and even within it there were obvious holes. There wasn't much they still knew about their fearless Alor, even at this point, he was still as mysterious as he had been the day he returned. But ever as trust worthy.

The general had lost all fear of going under the blade a long long time ago. He didn't like it, but he wasn't terrified any more. It was more reluctance. For some being put under was an experience of void. For some it was an experience of blissful memories. But when all your good and all your happiness had been rubbed away and replaced with mechanical hell, a desire to destroy and nothing more--what was there left? Those were his dreams, memories of war, memories of repose that had no rest. Battle after battle, fight after fight in an endless struggle against the void.

He opened his eyes at last, his body lethargic but on the mend. He could feel his cells mending themselves together once more thanks to the skillful care of the doctor. He looked at the doctor, sleeping in her place. His lips, matching the rest of his pale, colorless skin from blood loss gave a thin, approving smile. She was asleep, if he had the strength he would have reached over and grabbed her hand or something to say thanks. But he didn't.

Mental log: Thank the doctor in kind some way.

He settled back, resting his head on the pillow of his gurney. The dark brown eyes of the man closed, "Good work, Doctor."

 

[Darth Ferus]

"Understood. I'll keep to the front on the run there, block enemy fire to keep your guys alive. How fast can you run?" For once the Sith remained serious, and his blade would slash through the air to catch another stray bullet heading his way. The resulting yelp of an Echani nearby was enough for him to know he killed the shooter. He turned his attention from [member="Vilaz Munin"] to the ship, looking for any forces trying to break there way into the ship. It didn't take long to find a group.

"[member="Satia"] regroup at the frigate nearby. We're going search and rescue, but you'll be keeping to the outside. Stop any saboteurs from wrecking anymore of the ship." There was another flash of steel and blaster fire as his sword whipped around again, knocking away another shot into the nearby ground. Once they reached the frigate and began the counter attack, his troopers would descend from the sky to assist.

"On your leave, Manda'lor."