Private A Test of Will

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Sig Dryggo
​

A man must show those beneath him the way.

That was what Drego always believed. It's what Clan Bralor had taught him, and it's what he hoped to pass on to Clan Ruus.

But one had gotten loose. One he'd hoped to train himself.

Cleaning out his office on Sundari was a bittersweet moment. The Protectorate had fallen apart with both Ijaat and Mia going off to find better pastures. And now...

The Crusaders were taking hold. A mindset he couldn't back, a fervor he didn't share. He couldn't. This crusade was just another set of upstarts who didn't see how it would end yet. It would end the same way every other war ended. With two sides sitting down and talking. The victors didn't matter. Drego knew this, a student of history.

And so, his last day on the job wasn't some glorious retirement party. No, it was calling one man into his office from the new regime.

He wanted to talk to the man who had taken his foundling under their wing. Teaching them the wrong way.

Today he wanted to smash a mando's head in.

 

[Sig Dryggo]

A Test of Will
Tag(s): Drego Ruus
Objective(s): Pick a fight

Sig marched with a brisk determination. The false ‘Protectors’ of Mandalore were no more. In their place the true sons and daughters had returned. The Neo-Crusade had returned. From the ashes of the worlds they raised rose Clan Dryggo, Sig’s vision becoming realized.

Today however was a different kind of determination that swept him off his feet. He had received a call from one of these pretenders, one Drego Ruus, the very man who had made Zandra Ruus a Foundling. Zandra had since changed her allegiance, swearing loyalty to Sig and Clan Dryggo. She was the first of his clan, an honor he intended to bless.

Which is what brought him here. He knew that Drego likely wouldn’t let her go without a fight, verbal or physical. From what he could tell he wasn’t one who supported the Crusade or their goals, though that was through third parties where facts and fiction often get muddled. No, he’d reserve judgement for the meeting.

Walking into the office, Sig stopped just within the door’s threshold. “Drego,” he greeted with a sinister grin forming beneath his t-visor. He gave the office a glance over and let out a chuckle. “This was your office?” he asked in a mocking tone as another laugh left his lungs. As his laughter faded he straightened, “A true Mando’ade only has one office: the war zone.” It was a ridiculous statement to make yet Sig believed someone like Drego wouldn’t understand it any other way. His kind was lost and deluded. They had forgotten who they were and Sig had less respect for them than he did the dirt beneath his boot.

“So,” he added, “You got something you wanna say to me?”
​

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Sig Dryggo
​

Drego didn't have time to be mocked.

So he did the first thing that he could in retort.

He planted both hands, both ones that had punched Darth Empyrean in the face, and threw the desk at Sig.

"You want a war zone? You got it."

The Crusaders only language was violence. He spoke it too. Fluently.

 

[Sig Dryggo]

Sig didn’t have time to react as the desk slammed against his chest. Thankfully the door stopped it before it could do any real damage or land atop him. Instead most the damage Sig suffered was from the impact against the hallway wall. Chuckling, he slowly stood to his feet. “Someone is sensitive,” he mocked.

He could tell from the aggression that Drego was in berserker mode. It was a mindset that was legendary and fabled among their people. The ultimate rage of a Mandalorian taking hold. Sig himself knew this feeling well. Now, however, he was going to exploit it in another.

As he stood he walked just outside the door, the desk now blocking direct access. Staring over at the angered @Dreg Ruus, he let out a chuckle, “Zandra was lost, misguided by a false Mando’ade.” He took a step back, readying himself for the next flurry of attacks.
​

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Sig Dryggo
​

Berserker Mode?

No.

Drego was just a man trying to make a point.

The desk was shattered as Drego shoulder checked through it, and straight at Sig. Every move was calculated. The Pillar of War was never lost of mind, but simply never out of options.

"You're a child." He said only in retort, his tone calm but firm. "A child acting out of turn for attention."

 

[Sig Dryggo]

Sig, who had taken a step back previously, was ready for the charging Drego Ruus . In fact, he counted on it. Moving forward with his arms raised, he hoped to grab his foe by the shoulder he intended for Sig against him, hoping to throw him into the wall.

Regardless he took another few steps back, allowing himself space. He was studying his foe for now, seeing where a weakness was awaiting the proper moment to exploit it. He wouldn’t stop hurling insults however, believing he could use Drego’s rage against himself. “You’ve lost your flock and they’ve found me, the stronger shepherd, to lead them!”
​

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Sig Dryggo
​

The moment his shoulder contacted Sig, Drego grabbed a half of his shield, the pure beskar shield hooking onto his forearm, and stabbing forward at Sig's chest. He wasn't going to debate. He wasn't interested.

He knew how these kind fought. They mocked and they riled up. They burned civilians and drew out the jedi. He certainly wasn't a jedi. He certainly wasn't interested in being riled up. What he was interested in, was proving a point. The Protectors were gone. The Pillar of War remained. Unmoving. Unbreaking.

He wouldn't be broken.

 

[Sig Dryggo]

Sig didn’t see the shield attack coming. The shield pinned him against the wall. Although his armor did provide protection that, usually, did its job, it could only do so much against the very material itself was made of: beskar.

Letting out a pained groan it would be a temporary victory for Drego Ruus . For only a moment later Sig would launch a brutal kick directed at Drego’s chest knowing that even if it didn’t hit that he’d at least break away from the shield pin.

Next he brought his duel pistols up and began firing off a volley, all the while taking a few more steps back to give a little more distance. The hallway would give Drego limited movement and Sig was hoping to exploit that here now.
​

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Sig Dryggo
​

First came the kick, which forced him back. Then came a flurry of blaster bolts. Drego could only smile as they pinged off his armor, Drego pulling his shotgun off his back, and unloading not buckshot, but a single HE Grenade.

The hallway.

Just like a trench.

Sig was in Drego's home turf. His favored terrian.

The man who had once been a trench sweeper in the Second Great Hyperspace War under Clan Bralor now stood as a tank within the halls of the former Protectorate Headquarters.

"You think me weak. You think the Protectors a fallen dynasty. I am the final Pillar. The Pillar of War. I dare you to knock me down."

 

[Sig Dryggo]

Sig of course knew his pistol shots wouldn’t do much. Mandalorian beskar’gam needed significant power or force to damage and or penetrate. His pistols would likely cause some discomfort, maybe some bruising, but beyond that acted as merely an annoyance.

The grande landing just before him, however, was a move he didn’t see coming. He turned to dive into another nearby office, the blast going off just as he did so. He flew into the room, the door close behind him. Landing hard against the wall resulted in a loud groan of pain from Sig.

As the pain shot through his body Sig could feel his bloodlust rising. The berserker was clawing his way out. Standing with a smirk, he glanced at the hallway. Smoke filled the frame where the door once was and out into the hall where the initial explosion occurred. Through the smoke and over the now blaring fire alarm and sprinkler system that shortly followed, Sig could hear Drego Ruus hurling his taunts.

He chuckled. “Pillar of war,” he questioned back while clearly holding back laughter, “I am the master of war; if I demand you fall, you fall.”
​

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Sig Dryggo
​

"I've love to see you try, ge'hutuun." Drego spat back, chuckling to himself in turn. Sig was a zepplin so far, blowing plenty of hot air, but showing no true power. No strategy beyond stalling. Drego knew he was formulating something, observing and keeping his guard up. Drego was no fool. He knew a mando was more than just his armor.

But he wasn't using it so far.

The sound of his shotgun cocking filled the air, as Drego loaded a depleted baradium slug into the chamber. He'd weather whatever Sig had, and he'd kill the motherfucker for stealing his foundling.

After all.

"Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la.

 

[Sig Dryggo]

Sig paced slowly in the room, eyeing the smoke filled hallway. The sound of the shotgun being cocked was a familiar one that indicated to the warrior of his opponents next move, or rather gave an idea.

The office was small with minimal cover save the large desk at the center of the room. There was however a large glass window that made up the majority of the wall behind the aforementioned desk. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew it could be of use. For now he moved quickly to the desk and overturned it to create a barrier.

Taking his carbine from his back, he moved instead to the opposite corner of the room, the corner of the wall the hallway door sat on. Kneeling, he aimed down the sights at the center of the entryway, positioned in a spot that made it impossible to see him without fully entering the room.

An ambush. A simple strategy, one that was certainly a risk against a foe he was already engaged in active combat with. Still, Sig knew that to take down any Mandalorian was a difficult feat and he’d need to rapidly adapt if he would survive or best his foe.
​

Drego Ruus

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Sig Dryggo
​

One thing many vode seemed to forget about Drego was that even more he was a mando, he was a special forces operator. A shocktrooper.

Rather than immediately rush in, Drego through a frag into the room, before rushing right past the door. He had lived and worked in this building for months, and one thing he always took note of was a simple thing. A mundane thing most mandos wouldn't bat an eye at.

Thin walls.

Rushing past the door, Drego started unloading his shotgun into the wall, firing through it and until the room with depleted baradium shells, slam firing that shotgun until he had put enough bullet holes in the room to make a connect the dot puzzle. He didn't care anymore. This building didn't mean anything.

That's why he fired his flamethrower at the wall next.

If anyone was gonna burn down the Protector's legacy, what was left of their government, it was gonna be the man who had stood by it.