Desolation Path

[Sargon Vynea]

He watched the exchange with the prisoner with minor interest, mostly enjoying the efficiency of it. The sound of excavation behind him overwhelmed the scene though, as he turned his head back to the rather impressive walked behind him. Well, they hadn't killed the pilot on sight and that was something at least. It was another mouth to feed, and a prisoner to deal with, would have been easier for the group to kill him. Evidently they had more conscious then some Mandos were known for, then again it was usually the worst Mandalorians everyone thought of first. Still, he didn't know Connory well enough yet to know what he'd think 'good' was.

"Planet's defense systems are old, but mostly based underground I'd assume. Might be away to turn a few online, perhaps?" It wasn't really his place to interfere, but then again the only way to observe sometimes was to interact. "The guns are most likely gone, but might be a few stations below ground that were secure enough from the elements to still operate. Maybe even shed a bit of light on the planet itself. Of course it may all be completely destroyed still, but if your people used this place after I imagine they'd have repaired something."

[member="Talia Fett"] [member="Mereel Vaun"] [member="Cato Fett"] [member="Mirshko Betna"] @Connory @Atticus Rhein [member="Tonka Fett"] [member="Ijaat Mereel"]

 

[Steel Eyes]

The big hunter turned the pilot right side up and dusted him off with a big hand. He turned the pilot to face himself and looked at his odd clothing. His helmet looked like a strange bug. He must be a bug man.

"You hear little sister?" He said in his rumbling voice, "Your people not come. You alone now strange bug. You alone. We alone too. You stay with us."

Tonka picked up his giant shotgun and carried the man a few steps before he poked the man's legs, decided they probably worked and set him down.

"You walk." He said with a nod, "Tonka not transport speeder."

Tonka waited for the man to try and run so he could hit him. He hadn't hit anything for weeks.

[member="Atticus Rhein"] [member="Talia Fett"] [member="Connory"] [member="Sargon Vynea"] [member="Ijaat Mereel"]

 

[Jaster Awaud]

Below Ground

In the instant that [member="Cato Fett"] came closer to the double doors, several Mandalorian in Flat Black armor with Dark Red lining in different patterns on their armor. They rose from cover that were more rocky or thick areas, though it was still unknown to the others how their sensors didn't bick up the Warriors. Their weapons drawn and laser dots marked the lead warrior that was closest. That's when a tall grey armored individual holding a blaster pistol in one hand and a collapsed Electrostaff in the other. His fright red glowing eyes were illuminated by lights in the helmet. A similar color red crosses his chest as a light from within the doorway lite up the corridor, "Clan Fett?" The figure stated in a in a rather curious electronic voice like that of a heavily Smoker Stormtrooper. "We picked up Imperial Signals not Mandalorian, what the kark is Clan Fett doing here?" He waved his hand with the blaster in it toward the other Guardsmen, as they slowly lowered their weapons and returned to their bidding posistions.

Jaster noticed the symbol on the Warriors shoulder pad he seemed to try and hide. He was a Preserver of Mandalorian History as well as Alor of Clan Awaud, even a small hint was more then enough for him to place. The other two were too far away for him to make out. This was a Looters Raid it seemed like, hearing a crash and reading an Imperial IFF code before it was turned off, Jaster was a little defensive toward his possible loot for his Clan. Mandalorians as far as he knew didn't fight for the Republic and Clan Awaud was neutral in both the Civil War and the Force User Culling. In reality though he and his clansmen offered refuge for Force Children fleeing Deathwatch.

[member="Mirshko Betna"] [member="Mereel Vaun"] - Calling it after we meet in the Republic.

 

[Mirshko Betna]

[member="Cato Fett"] | [member="Mereel Vaun"]

Underground

There was so much in the way of possibilities in these caverns. And yet, she wasn't even sure where to begin. A nod went to Cato and then to Mereel as they went their separate ways from her. She could hear their booted footfalls receding and echoing across the vast cavern. It was that and the sheer falloff of any sound which clued her into how immense this cave network actually was. And it was a stunning revelation. She stood there for a moment, watching the pair head off in search of their prize. And she too wished she could find something here. Whether anything was still intact after centuries would be a true testament to Kuaran ingenuity.

She looked out across the cavern and turned in a slow circle. SHe knew what directions the other two had gone. After a moment's thought, she took off at an tangent to their paths and looked around again. Up ahead was an archway carved with reliefs of what looked to be Kuarans teaching or reading.At least if she was interpreting the images correctly. Her eyes narrowed. If she was right, what lay beyond was an archive of Kuaran culture and technology. With a satisfied smile, she headed off in that direction.

 

[Cato Fett]

Below Ground

Gun-barrels advanced out of the sifting gloom. Cato’s onboards painted matt-glazed carapaces joined and segmented with redundant life-support measures, a half-dozen figures swarming with dust and body heat, his AR-feed running data-tables compartmentalizing their armament, their armour, clan paints and decorative ornamentation. Detail was matched against on-board data annals. Clan Awaud, venerable as any, and an unknown quantity. Cato put away the killing fire in his sword-arm and gave Alor Jaster his honourable due. He marched up the long staircase, paused two enaabe away, and offered a short bow.

“Exploring, Al’verde,” Cato said, wanting for breathing room. Clan Awaud’s presence was unexpected, and equally unpredictable. They’d never declared for Monroe, Ra’s empire even less so, content to bide through outside strife, favouring policies of discretion that kept them maneuvered beyond the Vizsla’s reach and frustrating the abortive Cuir Rekr. If they’ve staked Kuar as a holding, then we’re obligated to petition for either sanctuary or a lease for shared territory, Cato thought. If their Alor decides to play to Ra’s thin generosity, all he’d need is a sack-full of heads and enough bold nerve to parlay him for concession. Not that negotiation with ‘the Undying’ would prove lucrative. Even if rumour proved true, and Ra again had absconded, no interim authority would barter for loyalty. Mandalorian space was shutting up with a veil of iron.

“Forgive us for any intrusion, so sorry,” He said, putting away all the large thoughts that made him feel so small. “We were unaware the Awaud were present.”

[member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] [member="Mirshko Betna"] [member="Mereel Vaun"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Above-Ground
[member="Tonka Fett"] | [member="Atticus Rhein"] | [member="Talia Fett"] | [member="Connory"] | [member="Sargon Vynea"]

There wasn't much for him to say at this point. So long as the Imperial behaved, he had nothing to say. There was a hissing and clack as the cybernetics of his arm and the plates of his armor folded seamlessly back to look like a normal arm, hiding the paralysis beam and he swung the hammer down from a resting spot upon his shoulder to the ground. Wordlessly, he looked to [member="Talia Fett"], and then watched Tonka, and kept his breathing under control. Though he had been doing fine, the ordeal of his failed execution sometimes seemed to tax him. Psychosomatic, or so the sawbones he saw had said. Eventually he would outgrow it, as he would the pain in his shoulder and the limp. Supposedly.

Somewhere, a whisper on the wind caught his attention. A sigh upon the aether, and a twinge of his senses. Finely tuned as they were, he couldn't tell if anyone else caught the whispery tremor in the force. Like the holovid cry of an ancient and dusty spirit roused to groan from beneath grave dirt in a summons call. The hammer in a roll at his back, a gift from a visit to a former pupil and old ally, [member="Draco Vereen"], pulsed faintly in it's leather tool wrap, and he turned his head to the side. Somewhere to the North-east, something called him.

But for now, he stepped closer to Talia, and nodded, hammer swinging up with apparent ease to rest on his shoulder again, ion crackling around the back-spike of the powered device.

 

[Jaster Awaud]

The stance that the warrior [member="Cato Fett"] took towards Jaster was something he wasn't use to even yet. It had only been since the Civil War that he was named Alor of his people, since his fathers and grandfathers death on Mandalore. Since then he did what he grandfather taught him, support the Unity of the Mandalorian people and culture. Jaster was some of the few that survived long enough to remember the teaching of the old ways, before crusaders and criminals spat words of death and glory. The Civil War meant nothing to Jaster, in truth he didn't know who were the good guys and who where the bad, his grandfather choose neutrality so he never joined the war. All that mattered to him was the survival of his remaining clansmen and those that fled to his banner for safety. The legends of Mandalor "the Uniter" still held the Awuad Clan as those who would protect any and all Mandalorians fleeing from fear.

He holstered his weapon and put the collapsed staff on his back with a magnetic clap before he let it go. He waved the Fett Warrior to follow him threw the doorway, "Kind of the point really, though not claimed by my clan, we use the planet to train Young Bloods who lost their fathers during the Civil War as well secure Armor for those who cant return to Mandalore, what a galaxy we live in now where mandalorians prevent others of the blood to return to the Homeworld," He walked into the doorway that was now light up the corridor, the light from within was not from a fire, but man made light. "Apologies for the guards, droids from the One Sith Empire and Scavangers sometimes roam these tunnels, and god forbid a GA trooper see a T-Visor and ask which side we fought for."

If Cato followed Jaster into the room, he would see a room full of 12 Teenagers in Mandalorian Armor with markings and colors from multiple clans from across the galaxy. Some were between the ages of 14 and 16, most were even younger. Patched around the large room were silent stone-like worrier in the same armor as those outside and patters of Dark Red only thing separating the difference between the 4 figure. The only thing separating them from the ones outside was the bright red T-Visor tenet, they seemed more glued to the children then newcomer. The room itself was large with a low ceiling, must have been the entrance of a large house before the invasion, a similar large door that Cato walked through was on the other side. Weapons and heating plates were scattered in 3 different areas, boxes and packed equipment were either used as benches or just left around for others to use. It was a make shift camp for the Alor and the large party of Young Bloods, it looked like they were about to set the children on a Verd'goten.

[member="Mirshko Betna"] [member="Mereel Vaun"]

 

[Mereel Vaun]

Underground, in some commerce building.
Other Folk Underground: [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] | [member="Cato Fett"] | [member="Mirshko Betna"]


As he strode through row after row of partially collapsed cubicles and trudged through seas of incomprehensible sheets of flimsi, he saw a peculiar glint in the corner of his eye.

He walked into a rutty looking cubicle which possessed walls browned by the ages. Upon entering, he found something truly marvelous, a testament of some galactic civilization which he knew surely could not have been the Kuar. Before him was an object which very well could have been the prized possession of a long dead Kuar.

It was something that Mereel could pass down to an heir alongside his armor, possibly even through generations of the family. Even if his fictitious, non-existent sons declared him dar'buir they would be mad to refuse inheriting such an heirloom.

Four ornately decorated legs of amber strutted up defiantly from the floor, seemingly overlooked by the passage of time. Embroidered upon each face of each leg were images of gold, portraying what looked like various entities and stellar bodies throughout the galaxy. Each image was distinct and different from the rest, but each and every one of them evoked a sense of wanderlust in the man, and atop the four legs was a flat, upon the top of which was carved a five-pointed star.

It was the finest table he had ever seen, and the craftsmanship nearly brought a tear of joy to his eye. It would suit his quarters in the Iviin'yc well.

 

[Mirshko Betna]

[member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] | [member="Mereel Vaun"] | [member="Cato Fett"]

Underground

Her steps were even, at least as much as the ground allowed for. It didn't take her long to reach the archway she'd chosen. As she finally reached the top of the staircase, she realized just how massive the archway itself was. She had no idea what lay beyond. And, if she was being honest with herself... she was just a tad bit nervous. Sure, she might be a loner at heart. But she was used to being surrounded by those of Clan Betna, or at least those she knew. It was very strange for her to be skulking around caves and subterranean ruins with people she barely knew. Even if they were Mandalorians.

She shook her head. In these times, that train of thought was dangerous. Sure, she was still evaluating these people But she'd felt no deceit from any of them. Whether that was because it was true, or just that they were more adept at hiding their intentions than she was at sensing them, she wasn't sure. For now, she opted for the former option. A few more steps brought her to the doorway itself, and she studied it for a moment. The door appeared to have been crafted from a thick metal, and the hinges appeared to be as sturdy. A glance at her comm for a moment followed by a frown. She'd not heard from Cato or Mereel since they'd split up. She hoped that was a good thing. But meters underground one could never tell.

A frown crossed her face as she continued to study the door, both by sight and with the Force. The metal was old and fractured in places, but it was a work of art that she didn't want to destroy needlessly. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself before she crouched and inspected the door's locking mechanism. It was heavy and ancient like the door itself. But perhaps she could convince it to work one more time. A deep breath in and then out and then she reached out with the Force. She couldn't feel the door in the same sense that she could sense people, but she could picture the door's locking mechanism in her mind.

Her focus tightening more, MIrshko pushed with the Force. Slowly, she could see the locking mechanism begin to move in her mind. It wasn't much different than some of the exercises she'd been through early on in her training. She pushed harder and felt a satisfied smile as the heavy door in front of her swung open with a loud groan of protest. There was darkness beyond. She palmed a glowrod from one of the many ouches on her belt and snapped it to life. In the soft orange glow cast by the light, she could see tall shapes looming at her from the darkness beyond. None of them moved, thankfully. Putting her armored shoulder into the door, she forced the door open wider and then stepped into the gloom beyond.