Dominion Dark Harvest: Outbreak | Mandalorian Enclave Dominion of Gamorr

[Xero Lang]

Post: 1
Objective: Infiltrate The Casino
Equipment: Light Mandalorian Armor | Mandalorian Crushgaunt | Beskad | Vibro Beskad | Sledge | Hammer | WESTAR-34 blaster pistol | Beskar punching Dagger | Beskar throwing Daggers | Cloaking Belt
Tags: Open

---

"Looks like the Enclave beat us here." The Verd Werda said speaking to Sledge and Hammer her Basilisk war droids that loomed behind her. Their comm chatter was coming across several channels she was tapped into. It had been a while since she had allied herself with Enclave way back in the days of the CIS. She had gone independent since those days mostly working Intel for various agencies as a freelancer. Though she still occasional help Clan Horizon on Ut family obligations and all.


She scanned the casino from the exterior with her helmet it was giving off odd life sign readings. "I think I may end up doing more killing then gambling today." Again, she was speaking to her war droids like they were sentient and understood more then the commands they were programmed to understand. Sure they also had a level autonomy as much as any battle droid but most people would understand a Mandalorians kinship with their iron beasts in a way they had Mandalorian soul in them.


"I'm going in you boys stand guard, kill anything that come out that isn't wearing Beskar." With hat she heard their normal warming up of armaments. She knew they would be engaging their sensors to detect Beskar and movement. With that she engaged her cloak belt unsheathing her beskad as well and began to move towards the casino. She was preparing for anything not sure what was going on inside.

 

[Kalen Genet]

Kranak Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla Koth Kryze

​

Kalen moved in step with Kranak as they approached the building, the giant man forcing the way open for the group. "Stick together," he said tersely, directed especially at the younger pair with them. He doubted they needed to hear it, but if they were anything like he had been when he was their age, let alone any other number of Mandos, mercenaries, or the like, the reminder wasn't necessarily a bad thing to give. Empty as the spire seemed to be, there was no telling what might actually wait within it.

At least the lobby was completely empty, although that didn't inspire any confidence in him. Lights dead, no computer terminals active, but no signs of struggle or damage to be found, either; as if it had been completely abandoned, something that had never been the case since it had been constructed for Director Caalgen and his experiments.

"Alright, Gwyn, Koth, see if you can't get that terminal active," he said, after taking a moment to shake off his ill feelings. "At least get us a map of this place, and if you can, see if you can't give enough of a boost through the systems here to catch Romul's comm frequency for a moment or two, or see if you can make a direct connection with any equipment at Camp Phoenix." It was a long shot, but technically possible; it would at least be worth the attempt, if only to make sure the team at the camp knew they weren't alone dealing with whatever they'd found.

A dripping sound down one of the hallways leading off from the lobby distracted him for a moment; Kalen peered down, blinking through the visor modes on his helmet, before giving a disgusted grunt. Nothing more than a loose pipe dripping water.

Always hated this osik.

 

[Aela Wren]

I R O N S T A R
ROAD TO ALOR
NEW LESSU | SCARIF
TAG: Hakon Fett | Open

WILL OF THE PEOPLE​

"We're aid workers of the Sacred Lotus answering a distress signal coming from here, madam. Are you of the Mandalorians in this sector?"

Shel narrowed her eyes. Something was off about this group. They were the strangest composition of aid workers she had seen yet.
"Yes and no." she merely stated in answer to his question. She was not about to launch into a big explanation of why she was here with the Enclave to a very dodgy stranger.

"We're only here to offer our help to anyone in dire trouble. We mean not to interfere with any special operations."

Her dark eyes turned to the Givin.
"If that's true, then you wouldn't mind if we tag along to ensure you people don't get in the way of anything." Shel deadpanned. She was just about to continue when Jane interrupted them with a cry.
"The hell is wrong with that person?!" She was pointing her rifle in the direction of a figure shuffling toward them.

Shel's attention snapped to her lieutenant. The person moving towards their group looked wrong - haggard, gaunt even with discharge coming from every orifice. It made the Nautolan go cold.
"I don't know, but put a bolt in it." she said, dark eyes glued to the rabid figure.
Jane hesitated for a heartbeat until the figure snarled and launched itself toward them.

Her shot had the desired effect.

The haggard figure dropped to the ground.
"The hell?" Shel frowned as she took half a step toward the body. She had never seen anything like it.

But it seemed the shot awoke something in the streets. From the buildings around them and the alleyways, crawled more figures in the same way as the one that just got shot.

Shel's heart was in her throat. She had dealt with a few things in her life, but this was something new.
"Get to the casino!" she ordered everyone, including the group of sham aids. "Shoot when you have to shoot!"
She drew her own pistols as her squad's rifles erupted in fire while everyone started backtracking to the casino.

As her own pistols erupted in golden bolts, dark eyes snapped back to the gold-haired man she spoke to before.
"You people know how to use guns or do we need to save your asses as well as our own?" she asked him, the horde of discharging, haggard people the top priority of the moment.

Normal criminals can be dealt with after everything was done.

 

[Koth Kryze]

"Stick together,"

Thank goodness that was suggested. And here Koth was considering wandering down some dark hallways alone, maybe leaving his weapon behind. Perhaps calling out to a dark shadow down a hall thinking it was someone and then running after it when it vanished. But while on a mission, he would keep the sass to himself, a formative youth of being shocked with magic lightning for sassing back at teachers taught him to keep most of his comments inside.

He was fairly certain that Kalen wasn't going to shoot lightning from his eyes or start crushing his throat if he gave some attitude. But best not to test such things, especially when the older Mandalorian hadn't really done anything to merit Koth turning their sharp tongue against him. Instead the youngest present simply nodded their head in response. One hand kept close to the pistol on his hip. The other one that held his wristpad, the two droids floating in through the opening, blue light shining from them as a map was slowly being constructed and sent to his wristpad.

Each of his squadmate's own datapads would receive a notification in turn, the map available to them if they so desired to make use of the additional tactical information.

But as soon as he crossed the threshold, the chill hit him like a wave. As if his soul had been dunked in ice-water without warning. A strangled gasp escaping him as he jumped backwards as if burned. His breathing came in short shuddering breaths as he realised just what had happened here.

Death. And not the kind of death from a battle that he was used to. But this was instead slaughtered on a large scale, that some parts of this building more resembled a charnel house than a communication hub.

"This.... this wasn't a normal attack. Too much savagery. It's like..... rabid animals got loose. I can feel hunger everywhere. Feels like the building wants to eat us."

It was on file that he was Force Sensitive, former Sith Acolyte. But even if those with him never cared to look up who they were working with, it was clear now.

Taking a moment to recompose himself, he made his way into the building proper, a firmer grip on his pistol as he made his way to one of the powered off terminals near the entrance. "Keep an eye out." He called, before ducking underneath the desk to begin his work, hooking wires up to the miniature power supply on his belt, brought specifically to deal with smaller items such as this.

It took maybe a minute to get it powered back on. "Terminal is up." He said, sending remote access to either Gwyn or Kalen, whichever wanted to start searching for schematics, all while he started working on something far more interesting than normal wrench monkey work.

Namely, trying to get in contact with Romul Saxon taking advantage of what little equipment he had to boost his own signal.

"This is Talon. Attempting to contact the response team. Response team come in."

Kalen Genet Gwyneira Vizsla Kranak Vizsla

 

[Karkosuchus]

​

Spoiler: Equipment

Bandolier Right Shoulder Bandolier Flash Grenade Sonic Detonator Bacta Grenade Concussion Grenade Thermal Detonator Left Shoulder Bandolier Stun Grenade Ammonia Bomb Utility Belt Syntherope Food Rations Hush 98 Comlink Imagecaster Energy Bola Fire Blade Caltrop Repulsor Throwing Razor Field Security Overloader

Holster Dissuader KD-30 .48 Caliber Enforcer Pistol Stouker Concussion Rifle FC-1 Flechette Launcher Imperial Heavy Repeater R-20 Scatterblaster Brass Knuckles Echani Shield Addleban's Cursed Armor Gatling Gauntlet The Swamp Vanquisher Modified Garmr Battle Dog |:| Borgini |:|

Karkosuchus lightly pushed open the door into "Codex.R15.3027" after a minute or two of hesitation and doubt. Cables and wires ran right across the place with datacrons on shelves nearby. This was no doubt an archive for the various projects going on within the facility. An archive had to have a terminal that he could use to hack into the security system to look through the cameras although the firewalls and counter-hacking measures might interfere in that regard. Hooking his concussion rifle back into his custom 6 weapon holster on his right side. He pushed through the wires hanging overhead and sat down on the chair in front of the terminal.

Taking his field security overloader from his utility belt and inserting it into the terminal allowed him to bypass most of the firewalls set up although he couldn't access top secret files because he lacked the unique passcode which was only provided to those with top level clearance. He pressed his claw on the monitor as it flipped between security cameras. Karkosuchus scanned through every single camera dozens of times until coming across an interesting situation.

"Wait a minute; someone has been showing us the same hallway for 10 minutes now." Karkosuchus said to himself; having seen the same empty hallway several times in a row. Which made him think that someone deliberately entered the camera into a loop to erase a certain time slot like one of those coruscanti crime dramas.

"It seems suspicious that someone would go through the trouble of deleting footage. It would appear that someone within the Nakaioma Corporation has a motive to why the production has stopped." : Darth Addleban replied; brushing his face tentacles within his ghostly hand. If there was something illegal going on it could explain the footage deletion. Another possibility is that someone is trying to oust Sero Nakaioma from his position by showing he is incapable of protecting his employees. Perhaps another family member is trying to usurp control.

"Whatever the motive; we have been assigned to find out why production has stopped." Karkosuchus said to the sith pureblood spirit. They didn't get hired to hunt down suspects like Alliance Marshals. They were too report to the Nakaioma Corporation and their Chairman as to why their productivity stopped all together within this location.

He was just about to get up from the chair near the terminal when a sound was detected within his ears. Something or someone was coming up to this location and he doubted they were friendly. Grabbing his concussion rifle from his customized 6 weapon holster he opened the door a little to peak out and found nothing as of yet.

He moved out the door and spotted something he couldn't quite explain.

​

 

[Pravus Cruento]

TAG Aela Wren | Any others in the casino | Mandalorian Allies

To say he was perplexed was the understatement of the century. Holed up inside his former Casino with his Chief of Staff and all-around shady sort Aela Wren was not how he thought of going down. They had met in this very place some years before. Years.

He laughed to himself, pouring another brandy as she berated him about something or other. He wasn't really even listening anymore.

"I'm the Vice-...Governor of Scarif, Aela. I have people who shoot for me now."

He gave a tipsy hiccup and pulled out the blaster from under the desk that he stood at.

"But as it happens; yes."

He looked around once again before hitting the transistor that stood on the desk, barely working and full of cascades of static.

"This is Governor Pravus Cruento of the Scarif Planetary Administration. This is Governor Pravus Cruento. We are sealed inside the Happy Mandalorian Casino. Please respond."

He so wished he'd never named it that stupid name now. The irony of serving under the Mandalorian Enclave now was glaringly obvious to him and Aela. He'd even had some of the more...culturally...insensitive articles taken down. No more could you order a Beskar Berry Blaster or a Mando Mango Malt. He had tried.

"Aela, what's our strategic situation?"

He gave her a look which said 'please-say something good', watching as people shuffled about around them. He was a sound governor and enjoyed much success as the Confederacy fell, taking the growing planet's prosperity forward.

How many were even alive?

The planetary evacuation had been successful to a point. Large population centres were cut off, too far infected. They had tried to protect and save as many as possible.

Was this his fault? Had he failed them?

 

[Hakon Fett]

NOT!LAS VEGAS, SCARIF
Shel Beroya | Juno Wren | OPEN
​

---

To scoundrels, acting came naturally, or rather it was attained over a long period of dire situations spawned by a life of villainy. This particular crew of scum was, well, let's say on the lower tier of performers; the low-budget, indie films produced by a spiced-out junior in Coronet Public College tier. They could only buy time with the Nautolan Mandalorian that had an inquisitive glare on her visor. Rohak didn't even need to have been a Mandalorian to read her facial expression behind the buy'ce -- it was evident in her tone.

Well, as evident as it could be with a Mandalorian.

Which wasn't really evident at all.

What was truly evident was that her attention had immediately shifted to the figure in the distance, approaching them with a very twisted step. Rohak's glance wove through his crewmen. Their fingers were itching and he knew what exactly was running in their minds and in his as well. What every self-respecting scumbag would be thinking right now -- is this the perfect moment for a good ol' stab in the back. Heavily equipped, as Mandalorians naturally were, and with the numbers on their side, the space warriors held the trump card. But that advantage was eroding with each step Mr. Twisted was taking in their direction.

The Mandalorian who had spotted Mr. Twisted didn't hesitate to blast the poor sod and as the bolt erupted from the barrel, the release of his concealed sawed-off's safety clicked on his fingertip. But before the pirates could reveal their skulduggery souls, their hands remained placed on the grips as a wave of tumult burst from the surrounding buildings. A tide of hundreds, if not thousands, of scurrying feet like insects descended from the apparently-not-empty resort.

Lucci's ghastly face turned pale as it met Scrooge's face. The grizzled Nautolan was wickedly gleaming. Fewer bellies to feed on the ship. Less loot to be divvied.

"Get to the casino!"

That was all the greedy bastards needed to hear. A cordon of Mandalorians ready to die to get the pirates into the rich vaults of the casino.

Fortune does not favor the brave.

Fortune's a wench and wenches serve the ugly.

They ran as fast as they could towards the casino at the end of the strip.

"Bootst--" Scrooge cleared his throat, correcting himself in the process. "--uhh, Lucciano, hit those hoverstretchers on double time. We have, uh, people to save!" Curly's sheepish chuckle was met with an irritated sigh from Black Ice. "Only if you can, that is! We must, uh, find deliverance from these demons."

"What'd I say about limiting him from those Speareshake plays?!" Corde growled in a low voice, drowned beneath the commotion of blaster fire. "It's a humanitarian organization, not a club for playwrights!"

"My apologies, Lady. Would you prefer I terminate his life due to incompetence?"

Silence.

"No." Rohak cut in and a wicked smirk widened on the Mistryl's cold features. She was really considering it.

"You people know how to use guns or do we need to save your asses as well as our own?"

"We've had a mandatory course in firearms." Rohak diplomatically stated, almost like a droid working off a script, as they paced towards the casino. "We'll help with all we can--"

"--but, we've got bigger problems." he jerked his head at the establishment up ahead. "Casino's entrance looks blocked."

 

[Juno Wren]

Aela Wren Pravus Cruento Shel Beroya Hakon Fett

The roof was a no go. There was no access from the casino floor, and all the exit corridors were locked up tight. Juno returned to the others, tense with agitation, and started pacing.

“Calm down, evaar’la verd,” said one of the older commandos. He was sitting on top of a lugjack machine, polishing his beskad. “The Enclave is coming. Just sit tight”

“I’m calm,” Juno said flatly.

Another Mando laughed. She was a veteran as well, her gunmetal blue beskar’gam scarred and pockmarked. As far as she knew, Juno was the youngest of surviving members of the Quick Response Team. She wondered if the group at the Spire had survived.

Juno kept pacing, too stubborn to stop and still bristling with energy, but she started rolling her arms to keep loose.

The blonde fop at the desk poured himself another drink. Juno scowled beneath her buy’ce. Now wasn’t the time to indulge. She watched as he fumbled around with the transistor and rolled her eyes.

He tried the comms, again, and he failed, again. She scoffed. This was the governor of Scarif? Some governor.

“Try dadita,” she called out. “If nothing can make it through the static, then use the static. As for the strategic situation…” she trailed off, glancing around the closed off, locked down, empty casino. “We’re trapped in a big glittery box.” So far, she was unimpressed with this supposed governor. She turned to the woman that shared her clan name. “Aela, was it? This place got surveillance? I’d like to see what’s going on outside.”

​

 

[Fenn Stag]

“Even as he who glories while he gains will, when the time has come to tally loss, lament with every thought and turn despondent,”

Equipment: Beskar'Gam l Crushgaunts l Disruptor Pistol l Beskar Knife l Jetpack l Combat Rifle l Combat Stims l Cigar and a lighter l Wrist Mounted Flamethrower l x3 Grenades

Tags:

Romul Saxon l Kale Onara l Mae Tecono l Tyrias Aran



The hallway where the strike team was turned into a bloodbath rather quickly. There was no conversation, no debate among the Commandos. The things coming for them were hostile and deserved no mercy or pity. And the team was quick to dispatch them, rifles at the ready, the hallway becoming alight with the sound of gunfire.

Bodies were dropped at an alarming rate.

But they kept coming. And they didn't respond to the usual tactics- only severely damaging their bodies or shooting them in the head seemed to do the trick. The Strike team was simply underprepared for this... threat.

The Veteran of the group, Stran, and two others were overwhelmed first. Their weapons were ripped away, the infected grabbing at the bodies, pulling them into the horde. Stran screamed a war cry while he was essentially ripped apart, bitten into. Fenn could only watch in horror, helplessly picking off the infected that came his way. Stran watched the other two lifeless bodies around him be ripped apart.

Stran looked towards Fenn and the other Commandos, before reaching to his webbing. Fenn watched it happen, as if time slowed. He saw the fear in his eyes, his helmet ripped away by the infected. Stran tried to reach for it with his free hand, but it too, was bitten into, ripped at and clawed at. He screamed, grabbing onto his helmet, weakly wrapping his hand around it. He pulled it close to his chest, and looked up at Fenn.

He seemed to look apologetic in his last moments.

Right before he activated the thermal detonator.

The concussive blast sent Fenn and several other Commandos flying back, but evaporated most of the infected around the three now deceased and largely gone Commandos. Stran himself disappeared in the blast, being at the center. The hallway lights flickered, a power surge from the amount of energy the thermal detonator put into the exposed electrical wires. Fenn barely had time to register the loss- an infected came up, trying to straddle him. Panicking, he braced the infected with his knee, felt him scratch at his body- before Fenn dug the Disruptor pistol into the scientist's ribcage, and blew out his lungs and heart, and most of his spine, with a single shot. Scrambling to his feet, Fenn picked up his rifle, and reconvened with the remaining Strike Team members.

They had now a single objective:

Run like hell.

​

 

[Tawnita Wren]

TAG : Aela Wren Pravus Cruento Shel Beroya Hakon Fett Juno Wren ​

She rifled through the papers, searching for something important clearly. It was mostly business manifests of all varieties; shipments, payments, orders, the usual things that running a very prosperous casino and drinking den called for. She looked around.

The Happy Mandalorian Casino. What a name.

If she was the proud type, she'd have taken umbrage with the name. But she'd seen the galaxy plenty enough to not take everything so personally...or literally. She had taken her helmet off, not all of her kin folk doing so of course. She had never paid it much mind-things got hot and she wanted to breathe. If it was to be her last moments, she wanted some good industrial quality conditioned, purified air.

She looked around. The Governor was attempting the comms one more time. There was an air of desperation about him. He'd been in charge of the planet for a good few years. The people liked him. Heck, last time she'd been on Scarif, Hester Shedo herself had been the Viceroy. There was an element about him here that...didn't sit right.

The woman he was with, the Wren woman? Tawnita recognised competence and the brains of the outfit when she saw it. She knew she was the brains of the outfit when it came to Vren Rook and so had some sympathy for this Aela girl. She watched the other other Wren and snickered.

"Leave the man be. He's just seen his planet gutted by something that's turning people into...I don't know what. I mean, when push comes to shove, it'll be his fault. I'd hate to see what the upper brass make of all this. A tribunal is gonna..."

She stopped. No point winding him up any further. They had to get out of this mess first. The clean-up of a city this size would be quite something, let alone getting the population back from all corners of the Encalve territories. Let's hope they hadn't taken whatever it was with them to other population centres otherwise...well...best not think about it too hard.

 

[Kale Onara]

Both Kale and Jorin whipped around with their weapons at the ready at the sound of Kale's voice emerging behind them through a speaker repeating the transmission he just sent.

"To anyone hearing this transmission, this is Karjr Kale Onara answering the distress call of my vod. If anyone is receiving this, respond immediately."

Kale's two pistols and Jorin's rifle barrel were pointed at the figure behind them. Kale gave the person behind them a quick once over. Humanoid female wearing Beskar'gam. She had no weapons in her hands but that didn't mean much considering how much firepower a Mando'ade warrior carried. Something seemed off about the armor though. He watched her micromovements and realized the armor didn't perfectly fit the wearer and his eyes narrowed. A warrior's Beskar'gam was called Iron skin for a reason. It wasn't just armor, it was an extension of the warrior him/herself. It was a vital to the warrior as their organic skin. Between the stupid mistake of leaving her comm on full blast and the armor obviously customized to fit her body perfectly, Kale began to doubt if this woman was Mando'ade. It seemed more likely that she was aruetii wearing Beskar'gam. "Identify yourself immediately or be fired upon!" Kale ordered. But before the woman had a chance to respond another voice came over the comm...

"This is Fleet Marshal Tyrias Aran. As you can tell, Internal communications have been restored. You were better off not landing on this planet, Karjr Kale Onara; but since you are here -- as I suspect there are others -- you may as well help exfiltrate any survivors. Be advised there are hostile lifeforms inside of the facility that carry a contagion resulting in violent aggression to all those around them. Anyone showing symptoms of infection should be shot before they turn against you."

"Another thing, you have one hour to complete your mission."

Kale frowned wondering why there was suddenly a time limit when a computer voice started blaring out from the base intercoms answered his question, "Self Destruct Activated. All personnel are advised to evacuate immediately. Fifty-nine minutes and fifty-five seconds until detonation."

"You have got to be kriffing kidding me!" Kale cursed as he put a timer on his display to keep track of the time they had left.

Jorin swallowed tense but controlling his fear well as he had been trained, "What's the play here Buir?" Kale took a couple of seconds to re-evaluate the situation. Obviously, the safest course of action would be to turn around immediately and head back to the surface. They had plenty of time to evacuate and get to safe distance before the base went up.

Since when do Mandalorians take the easy path? Kale thought to himself smiling slightly. No, they needed to do anything and everything they could to locate any of their brethren and help facilitate their escape. Kale considered all honorable Mandalorians kin and he'd rather die then live wondering if he had left them to die to save his own skin. Kale looked at Jorin for a moment, "We'll continue the sweep. If there are survivors here, we'll get them out. Either we all get out or none of us do."

Jorin nodded, "This is the way..." He then looked back at the woman in front of them, "What about her?"

Kale looked back at her, "You there! We're on a tight timeline now as you well know, so we are moving out. You can either come with us or evacuate out the way you came. Please don't waste our time with something stupid like trying to shoot us in the back as we move." He then turned his back on the woman though he brought up his rear scan on his visor to keep watch on her as he motioned for Jorin to move out deeper into the base.

Tags:

Romul Saxon | Mae Tecono | Tyrias Aran | Fenn Stag | OPEN

 

[Karkosuchus]

​

Spoiler: Equipment

Bandolier Right Shoulder Bandolier Flash Grenade Sonic Detonator Bacta Grenade Concussion Grenade Left Shoulder Bandolier Stun Grenade Ammonia Bomb Thermal Detonator Utility Belt Syntherope Food Rations Hush 98 Comlink Imagecaster Energy Bola Fire Blade Caltrop Repulsor Throwing Razor Field Security Overloader

Holster Right Holster Dissuader KD-30 .48 Caliber Enforcer Pistol Stouker Concussion Rifle Left Holster FC-1 Flechette Launcher Imperial Heavy Repeater R-20 Scatterblaster Brass Knuckles Echani Shield Addleban's Cursed Armor Gatling Gauntlet The Swamp Vanquisher Modified Garmr Battle Dog |:| Borgini |:|

Undead...

"Why did it have to be undead"; Karkosuchus thought within his head for a brief moment after exiting the archives due to the sudden noise within this section. He found his answer immediately being the undead as they charged towards him looking for a big meal to snack upon. He lowered his concussion rifle and blasted away with his hand on the trigger pulling furiously as the zombies were sent flying due to the unloaded concussive rounds which created explosions of four meters in diameter. Some of them exploded while others were simply sent flying back into the desks of the office.

Fighting the horde within this relatively small area was disadvantageous due to his large size. So moving forward along the right side of the laboratory; keeping an eye out on the zombies around the room who simply charged forward once again to devour him. Before they could reach him or he pull the trigger to waste ammunition. Darth Addleban had intervened to keep them at bay using his limited force ability. Hurling them back out of the windows with force push.

Karkosuchus was thankful for this effort; which allowed him to run up the stairs to the roof once more. Closing the door shut behind himself and blocking the door with his concussion rifle handle to seal it. He wasn't hired by the Nakaioma Corporation to hunt down and destroy a zombie horde. However his imagecaster would lite up as he pulled it out of his bandolier to send a message to the corporation in regards to the stopped productivity and informed them that zombies were infesting the area.

The Nakaioma Corporation was interested by the situation and promptly demanded that he capture some for research purposes and to develop a cure. Karkosuchus groaned with resentment that he had to go back in there and capture zombies for an increased reward. However the life of a bounty hunter was expensive and the Nakaioma Corporation was one of the strongest companies within the galaxy. Whom was he to refuse the hand that feed him currently. And thus Karkosuchus and Darth Addleban would make their way back down the stairs to the Third Floor to find it abandoned once again with only the remnants of zombie corpses and ashes to tell the story.

"Capture Zombies they said;" Karkosuchus said in a sarcastic tone to his sith spirit partner but found out that he was gone for the moment; "Like that's easier said than done." He further added to himself as he carefully looked down the railing towards the second floor which would no doubt house more zombies and probably other mutant variants. His loud footsteps upon the stairs rang out no doubt alerting the zombie horde below to his current location.

He needed to isolate just a few in order to capture them and that task almost seemed impossible to accomplish.

​

 

[Khael Vhijaric]

Kalen Genet // Kranak Vizsla // Koth Kryze

////////​

Dar'yaim*.

There was no other word to describe the situation. Khael had barely stepped foot off the passenger transport before things went south, extremely south. Since seeing the slaughtered bodies of his entire clan, Khael had been struggling to contain his a'den*, burning so fiercely in his soul like he had never experienced even amongst the heat and rush of battle. His gra'tu'aka* had lead him to Scarif in search of assistance from fellow Mando'ade, but he realised how little he knew of the real world once he needed to do something he thought should be so simple - find his brothers and sisters. He had followed hints to Scarif, endured the many days of travel to the system, then once he finally arrived some sort of contagion had broken out.

Ky counted himself lucky he hadn't contracted anything, but having to constantly wear his buy'ce for weeks on end in the hopes of avoiding the contagion had been the least of his troubles. He had lived surprisingly much like he had his entire life; constantly on the move, never resting easy, always alert to his surroundings. He'd had to fight his way out the occasional tight spot once law and order broke down and criminal scum, thugs and chakaar* roamed the streets before they, too, succumbed to whatever-the-hell-this-was. He had tried to look for a way off the planet, but he had no piloting skills beyond speeders or his jetpack, and he didn't fancy dying in a conflagration of metal in an attempt to fly a ship. So, he had tried finding a holonet terminal to send a distress call off-world to anyone and everyone, but that, too was a dead end. Power had been cut to the city at some point during his fight for survival, and he had no technical know-how to try starting anything up.

So, he was stuck. Waiting, for anyone. Watching the skies, for anything. Until today.

The screaming engines of a ship touching down near the massive relay tower brought a spark of hope in his chest. He had assumed, seemingly correctly, that any reactionary force would look to the relay tower first and foremost, and spent his time moving from location to location around the base of the tower, avoiding the hordes of skanah* as best he could. The figures who emerged from the ship were a blessed sight.

"Mando'ade," he breathed, a grin splitting his haggard, joy-deprived features as he watched from a nearby window. The two men, woman and bloody giant, bigger even than Khael, pried their way into the tower entrance, and Khael soon made his way there, blaster pistol in his left hand, beskad gripped so tightly in his other fist he felt the blood coursing through the veins in his hand. He checked every corner and street before he moved methodically up to the wrenched-open door, taking care to approach from the side so the fireteam inside wouldn't see him approach and shoot him on sight. Despite his beskar'gam marking him as a fellow Mando'ad, he had lived too long on this planet - his entire life, at that - trusting to nothing but his wits and his skill, so he didn't fancy testing the warriors' trigger fingers.

"Copaani gaan, ner vode?"* Khael called in greeting and warning before he rounded the corner into the lobby.

////////​

a'den - rage
chakaar - petty criminal, thief
dar'yaim - a hell, a place you want to forget
gra'tu'aka - Quest of Vengeance
skanah - most hated thing
Copaani gaan, ner vode? - Need a hand, my brothers/sisters?

 

[Romul Saxon]

S U R R O U N D E D​

Objective: Survive
Tag: @ Fenn Stag | @T Tyrias Aran | @ Kale Onara | Mae Tecono

The monsters pounded at the doors, but credit was due to whoever had constructed the base; the blast doors held. The quick rigging that the Mandalorian commandos had done was preventing the doors from being opened even by the force of the sheer numbers of the infected clawing away. They also didn't appear to have any heavy weaponry -- or weaponry at all besides their decaying appendages -- neither the sentience to operate such weaponry if they were in possession of it.

They were holding them off, yes. But they had effectively sealed themselves in their own tomb.

Suddenly, Romul's comm-link crackled loudly with static. "This is -- Attempting to contact -- Response team come in." The words were patchy and barely audible, with static crackling in between words to mangle the sentences that were being sent. But they had gotten a transmission. Which meant that there was someone elsewhere listening.

Against his better judgement, Romul keyed into the comm and responded. "This is Romul Saxon. We are trapped in the central processing room of the derelict black site. Heavy resistance and casualties. All reinforcements should be advised against an enemy horde of unknown origins and capabilities." But only static was the reply.

Fuming with anger, Romul keyed off the comm, but then stopped. He hadn't noticed it when he was speaking, but now that he did not make a sound he heard it clear as day. Or rather, he didn't hear it. He didn't hear anything. The Jikar medic echoed what Romul was thinking. "They've stopped. Something's drawn their attention away?"

Romul ground his teeth. If they were drawing away, it could mean a reprieve. Or it could mean a trap. But then the loudspeakers sprang to life with a force that Romul had never heard, and an droid-recorded announcement boomed across the entire base. "Self Destruct Activated. All personnel are advised to evacuate immediately. Fifty-nine minutes and fifty-five seconds until detonation." Now Romul's hand was forced. Fighting their way out was the only option.

"Wounded men to the back," he ordered as he stood up and holstered his rifle, powering it on. "Heavy infantry to the front. Put your blaster cannons to full power, and get into circle formation. Watch all sides. We fight, or we die." Or we die fighting, he thought, but he did not say it. It did not need to be said; everyone knew their morbid chances of survival.

Two Jorir commandos placed charges on the sealed blast door, and with a thunderous detonation their hard work was undone in seconds. The blast door cleared, the band of Mandalorians began advancing methodically. The monsters had turned tail, and none were waiting to great them, but shrieks and footfalls could be heard echoing through the dark walls. Only the glowrods of the Mandalorian's helmets and blasters provided visible light, though their helmets had access to thermal and low-light visuals that improved their ability to see in the dark.

When the first infected came rambling, shrieking, Romul's blaster burst vaporized its head in a spray of blood and flesh. A horde followed behind it to avenge their fallen kin, and the hallways of the base roared as they were alit with blasterfire.

 

[Mae Tecono]

​

Objective: Find a way out and concealing her identity if possible

Tag: Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Tyrias Aran Tyrias Aran | Kale Onara Kale Onara | Romul Saxon Romul Saxon

Equipment: Beskar'Gam l Beskar Knife l Jetpack l Combat Rifle l Wrist Mounted rocket launcher x3 each wrist l Light Saber

---

Stolen Uniform

---

Mae was just as shocked as the other two, but their attention was pulled away from her, first briefly, but then all together. They said she could stick with them which she had planned to do, however, she had not planned on being part of a rescue team, let alone one that had an hour countdown timer to an impending doom. She reached down and fiddled with the controls to her communication band and turned it down. She then turned and followed the two, but not before looking down a long and dark corridor. She swore she heard something coming from down the hall but it was too poorly lit to make anything out. She reached up and fiddled once more with the controls of her armor, but this time it was to her visual aids. The scanners in her helmet came alive and revealed a form making its way slowly in their direction.

She believed it looked like a humanoid that was limping to her and in that case needed her assistance, but after taking a few steps in its direction, she no longer believed it was in distress rather missing a foot. The figure was limping its way towards her on one foot and one stump where her foot used to be. The figure razed its head to reveal the gruesome face of rotting and decaying flesh. How could the flesh be in such a state so soon? No...no... how could the walking decaying flesh be walking at all? Then without warning it lunged at her. Mae took a quick step backwards only to bump into the soft wall behind her. No, wrong again, she bumped right into a armless walking flesh bag with a growling and drooling head attached. She could not help but screech as she pulled her lightsaber from her waist and split the two disgusting figures in half, only to see the half a woman still making her way to her, only this time dragging her bottomless body in a wet and slithering crawl.

Mae continued to flee in the direction the other two had gone and before she turned to run, caught a glance of an entire horde of the creatures in a hot pursuit.

 

[Aela Wren]

I R O N S T A R
ROAD TO ALOR
NEW LESSU | SCARIF
TAG: Hakon Fett | Juno Wren | Pravus Cruento

WILL OF THE PEOPLE​

"Bootst--uhh, Lucciano, hit those hoverstretchers on double time. We have, uh, people to save!"

The slip caught Shel's attention but she kept her mouth shut for the moment. Even though a firefight was as normal as breathing for a Mando'ad, the threat was still very real with the unknown. Now wasn't the time to turn a gun towards them and ask for the truth.

Their entire group had backed up to the casino, but more and more rabid-like people where emerging from buildings, alleys and sidestreets. What the hell was going on? They were being cornered, no doubt about it.

"Casino's entrance looks blocked."

You don't say...
"Jane, can you override the doors?" she asked the young tech-head instead.
"Uh...." Jane fired a few more shots at people that were snarling and flailing towards her. "Maybe. It'll take a minute."
"Oh for shit's sake." Shel unclipped a concussion-grenade from her belt and hurled it over her Clan-members' heads and into the converging swarm. "I just won you two. Get cracking."
"Yes, Alor'ad." Jane jumped around to crouch by the sealed doors while Kel took her place on the perimeter.

Shel's dark eyes snapped back to the fair-haired man trying his best to be a maiden.
"If you people can shoot, shoot." she told him before turning to the droid. "You capable of helping that girl get the doors open or are you only capable of cracking jokes?" she asked it.
"They're starting to recover from that 'nade!" Kel called, pistols still facing the rabid people.

Shit.

Just then, static crackled in her ear before a few broken words from Enclave mando'ade broke through.
"By the Manda..." she mused. It was worth a shot.

<This is Alor'ad Beroya. Can anyone in the casino read me?!>

 

[Hakon Fett]

NOT!LAS VEGAS, SCARIF
Shel Beroya | Juno Wren | Pravus Cruento | OPEN
x
​

---

If it hadn't been clear who really dictated the Mando parade, it had been made certain when Jane had referred to the Nautolan as Alor'ad. The boss lady. Her suspicion was eventually bound to spill out and the pirates had no other option than to maintain their disguise long enough until another window of opportunity to backstab the Mandalorians opened.

The crew looked like complete imbeciles standing behind the warriors facing the horde of demons rushing towards them; without a single weapon in hand and yet still looking somewhat unfazed to the same level your average humanitarian worker would have in a situation like this.

But fortune, as we learned, is a wench...

"If you people can shoot, shoot." she told him before turning to the droid. "You capable of helping that girl get the doors open or are you only capable of cracking jokes?" she asked it.

"Why certainly, Lady, I'm versed in etiquette, customs, translation, diplomacy and ruthless clearance of populace--"

"Abe, nooooo!!!---" Rohak growled a little too late. The obsidian droid pointed its arms at the invasion and hidden compartments slid open with a hiss to reveal two flamethrowers from each side and a dozen or more rocket launchers. From its shoulders, a pair of shockwave-generating rods materialized -- a miniaturized variant of those donned by the Mandalorian basilisk war droids.

A moment later the landscape before them disappeared into a blinding explosion of white as Gentleman Abe unleashed his firepower upon the assailants. The ground rattled, split open by the shockwave rods. The monsters crumbled down, ripped apart by your missiles wildly surging from the droid's arms. There was no zero precision, to the point that even a few Mandalorians were disintegrated as collateral. Something Abe specialized in creating.

The gape behind Jane's helmet forced Scrooge to take agency of the situation, making quick work of finding an entrance for all into the casino. They stumbled in, shutting the entrance behind them even if nothing remained of the horde. The pirates, knowing their disguise was no more, had drawn their concealed weapons (lightwhip in Corde's case) and pointed them at the Mandalorians. They boasted roguish smirks on their ugly-charmed faces, mostly due to having been liberated from their theatrics but also of having titled the table to a more equal standing than before. The Mandalorian stills had the upper hand in numbers but the scoundrels finally had their guns in their hands... and Abe fully operational.

The pirates yanked off the white garbs they had worn, revealing the clearly scummy outfits and tattoos each boasted.

"Shame it had to go this way." Rohak spoke in clear Mando'a, throwing a glance at each Mando'ade standing before the crew before switching to Basic again. "... but hardly anyone would've expected the pretty boys outside happening." Black Ice shot him an irritated glance - wordy are we today, Captain?

"But silver linings - you've got bigger problems than us now. So how about a deal -- each crew goes their way, forget we ever met."​

 

[Karkosuchus]

​

Spoiler: Equipment

Bandolier Right Shoulder Bandolier Flash Grenade Sonic Detonator Bacta Grenade Concussion Grenade Left Shoulder Bandolier Stun Grenade Ammonia Bomb Thermal Detonator Utility Belt Syntherope Food Rations Hush 98 Comlink Imagecaster Energy Bola Fire Blade Caltrop Repulsor Throwing Razor Field Security Overloader

Holster Right Holster Dissuader KD-30 .48 Caliber Enforcer Pistol Stouker Concussion Rifle Left Holster FC-1 Flechette Launcher Imperial Heavy Repeater R-20 Scatterblaster Brass Knuckles Echani Shield Addleban's Cursed Armor Gatling Gauntlet The Swamp Vanquisher Modified Garmr Battle Dog |:| Borgini |:|

Karkosuchus was awarded exactly as promised as the zombie horde moved towards his location; and he rapidly pulled the trigger on his concussion rifle which send them back with explosion after explosion until the small clicking sound was heard. His favorite weapon had run out of ammunition's so with a simple toss the weapon was soon discarded on the steps to lose some dead weight as he raised his arm just enough to let his Gatling gauntlets fire several small projectiles into the zombies themselves with most of the projectiles going for the head following the old corusanti drama rule which said that zombies wouldn't be able to get back up again without a head attached to their bodies to control their movements.

Apparently this did the trick until the second staircase was cleared of zombies and he gazed down the steps with his glowing yellow eyes. He blew the smoke out of his gatling gauntlets and inserted several more projectile containers into the weapons before closing them. Carrying limited ammunition's capacity for all his weaponry was certainly a pain but the life of a bounty hunter never quit. Karkosuchus moved down the stairs into the lobby floor until a genius idea struck him with a little push from Darth Addleban deep within his brain. Opening up his bandolier and taking out a small thermal detonator and rolled it down the hallway to a medium sized explosion whose noise would carry down the hallway into the various rooms to alert the zombies.

Following this; he grabbed his energy bola and waited for zombies to appear which did occur after a few moment of waiting around. He hurled the energy bola around the corner into a small group of zombies to restrain them. And grabbed his scatterblaster from his right holster and squeezed the trigger with his large clawed finger sending a large amount of slugs into the zombies themselves and punching others with his brass knuckles if they got close enough. Although making sure that they never got close enough to bite him to avoid being infected. Once the room was cleared of zombies; he attached a rope to the energy bola after puting his scatterblaster back into his holster and dragged the few zombies captured up the stairs to exit the building. Most would find this task difficult but he had considerable stength to make up the difference in weight and mass.

His loud footsteps were heard echoing through the third floor; as he made his way towards the stairs to the roof exit where he had gotten in the first time. Transporting them as one thing but getting past the mandalorian enclave's borders would be another. He had only hoped that the Nakaioma Corporation would pay him extra for the hastle.

​

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Being treated like a little child by Kalen was something Gwyneira did not appreciate. Kranak Vizsla would be able to notice her tense up when she was told to stay together. Oh! Stay together! How obviously obvious! Gwyn was more than capable of using far beyond a single braincell. Did she look like an idiot? She clenched a fist and turned to help Koth with the work; determined to prove her worthiness of respect today.

The vacancy caused Gwyneira to shiver as they stepped through the dim, dank halls. Eventually, they made it to a place they could activate the terminal. As they worked on it, Gwyn's Force Sense extended, branched out, like a sculk spread. Throughout the building, she sensed savagery, insanity, and sickness. What was going on? She tried extending her senses further, trying to sense if there were any lifeforms, but the overflow of starvation in the building clogged her senses. She continued to work on the terminal, trying to get the power back on, but she also spoke her concerns, <"It feels terrible here. I sense a great hunger, and it's so overpowering, I can't even sense if there's any other lifeforms here.">

Working with expertise, she tapped at more buttons before standing up and tearing open a metal frame. She bent down, pulling off her crushgaunts and setting them on the table before delicately working at the chords. She had to get this place running again.

Then, she heard a voice. Unused to her Force Sense not picking up if people were nearby, she turned and pulled her Borealis pistol out and pointed it at - another Mandalorian? She blinked beneath her visor before lowering her weapon, <"Hey, you're a survivor or another person on this mission?">

She decided to let the two buff men handle it, returning to working on the terminal before... a spark of electricity and... lights flickered on in the building.

 

[Kale Onara]

As they moved, a broken transmission came through their comms. It was difficult to make out but a few details were heard clearly enough:

"This is Romul Saxon. We are trapped in the central processing room of the derelict black site. Heavy resistance and casualties. All reinforcements should be advised against an enemy horde of unknown origins and capabilities."

Kale opened his comm channel, "This is Karjr Kale Onara to Romul Saxon. Your transmission is received. Do you copy?" Static was all he got in response. These damned spotty communications!!! He thought angrily to himself but outwardly he was composed as he looked to Jorin, "Did you get a lock on that transmission?"

Jorin nodded, "Yes Buir. In fact, I think I have a lock on the ones who sent it. It's spotty but it looks like they're on the move."

Kale nodded, "Alright let's get goi..." He heard a screech behind him. They both turned to see their new female companion ignite a lightsaber and swiftly engage two of the presumed infected. He also found it morbid fascinating that even though the two had been cut in half, the upper halves of the two infected continued to attack without regard for the grievous the just sustained. He let woman run past him and he began running when he noticed a huge horde in full pursuit "HAUL JETS ADIIK!!!!" He yelled at Jorin as he primed a thermal detonator. When they rounded the next corner, Kale tossed it behind him, "THERMAL OUT!!!" A couple more seconds after that an explosion behind them and the accompanying blast wave buffeted them, nearly knocking them off of their feet. Not even bothering to look back at the damage done, Kale spoke out, "Jorin get us to that transmission source!"

Jorin nodded, "Yes Buir." Jorin followed the sporadic signal for a few more meters before he started slowing down a bit, "Buir! BUIR!!!! Bad company directly ahead!" He stated as he raised his blaster rifle.

Kale came up and put his hand on the rifle barrel and pushed it down, "Forget it. She cut two of those things in half and they still fought. Blasters won't do it."

Jorin nodded as he slung his rifle and checked his navigation and considered the situation for a few seconds, "We have to go this way Buir. Fire and Ice?" He asked with a grin on his face under his helmet.

You couldn't see Kale's face but you could hear his grin as he holstered his blasters and unslug Brumal Dawn. "I like your thinking. Fire and Ice it is! Let's do it!" Kale and Jorin began picking up speed and Kale started by laying down a steady flow of automatic weapon fire on the targets in front. Unlike regular blaster bolts the Brumal Dawn's bolts used miniaturized carbon-freezing chambers to create ultra-cold blaster bolts that both freeze and shatter targets upon impact. The infected that were struck by the bolts instantly froze only to explode just as gouts of super heated flame by Jorin's dual wielded flamethrowers in his gauntlets. Unlike most Mandalorians who only used one flame thrower, Jorin loved having two and right now it was working to their advantage. Between Jorin's Fire and Kale's Ice, they managed to cut the horde down quickly and efficiently. After the horde in front was dealt with, they picked up the pace even more as they homed in on the location of their fellow distressed brethren. It wasn't long before they heard weapons fire and shouting directly ahead. Turning a final corner, they spotted another horde of infected ahead of them. The horde was facing away from them, obviously pressing on another target. Barely slowing, Kale and Jorin raised their weapons to engage this new threat, but not before issuing a war cry both in challenge to these creatures and to inform their fellow Mando'ade the help hath arrived, "VODE AN!!!!!!!!!!!!! AT KOTE!!!!!!!!!!!!*" And once more Fire and Ice began their deadly dance against this new enemy that dared to stand against the splendor of the Mando'ade.

* Vode An - Brothers All, At Kote - To Glory
TAG: Romul Saxon | Mae Tecono | Tyrias Aran | Fenn Stag | OPEN