How To Train Your Dragon [Eternal Empire, TSE, Black Suns]

[Vyra Silara]

Southern Wastes
Kalidan, Eternal Empire
​

Had Na’an just..hung up on her?? Scoffing, Vyra attempted to reconnect to her old friend’s comm, but it was off.

She HAD.

Well, at least she was alive. Annoyance aside, she’d sounded far too chipper through the mic. Lighter, even. Like she used to sound when there was danger in her way. The girl had a habit of thriving in situations that would send most people running for the hills. She’d never needed protection, and there was nothing to say she’d need it now.
Vyra had half a mind to comm Adelle and insist she make sure Na’an was safe, but knew it would only inflame the delicate ‘peace’ she and the Force-sensitive doctor had constructed on Relovian.

Stay close to the Captain, Kainan Wolfe said. Vyra gave Khorde Drago , her glorified babysitter, a sidelong glance, sympathy in her heart but a strong, ready expression on her face. The constant, familiar presence of guards had been part of everyday life since childhood, a necessary element of her lifestyle, and one that often went underappreciated by many spoiled aristocrats, taken for granted and much abused by those they served. As such, the politician often went out of her way to treat them with proper respect and ensure they understood their value to her, not just as protectors and warriors, but as people.

With the culture barrier between them, she hadn’t…quite figured out how to communicate this to the Wolfguard and their Captain yet.
But she would. Eventually.

Until then, the least she could do for Captain Drago was NOT be a colossal burden. Despite being more than happy to follow their Emperor’s orders, Vyra suspected at least some of them found her and her presence here a severe hindrance. But she knew she wouldn’t gain their respect sitting safely in her room. It was clear, what was expected of her, and she had only a short window of opportunity to begin her assimilation before opinions solidified beyond the point of change.

And so, it was trial by fire, then.

Today, quite literally, if she was unlucky enough to get too close.

Vyra hoisted her pistol and, with a nod, followed the orders given, trailing close to Captain Drago as his men spread out. Perhaps she was lucky, in a way, that her first ‘mission’ involved an impossibly large creature with nigh impenetrable skin. Though quite proficient with a handgun, the target was large enough that, if she missed, it would most likely go unnoticed, and the probability of the dragon focusing its attention on any one group for very long was low. At least, she hoped it was.

The wind bit at her exposed face. Vyra tugged down the goggles once more, grateful she didn’t need to squint against the elements. “I’ll follow your lead, Captain--” she informed Drago, readjusting the red fabric across her nose and mouth, but whatever else she’d prepared to say died on her lips as two vast white wings unfurled before her husband-to-be.

And even he, so formidable, so fearless, looked so …small against such a behemoth of metal, rock, fire and flesh.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up, body suddenly cold under her thermal layers.

She knew Darth Tacitus was more than capable. He’d defeated them before, mere weeks ago. But Vyra couldn’t ignore the dread in her gut. It crawled up her gullet and sat tensely at the back of her throat, waiting.

​

|| Vidalu Na'an || Aaran Tafo || Viktor Goetz || Adelle Bastiel ||​

They’d all lingered too long.

Aaran Tafo, pausing as he crested a snowdrift, hand on his hip, was about to have a very bad rest of the day.
On silent amber wings the young dragon swooped from above, curious rage in its orange eyes as its back claws stretched outwards towards its prey below. Though just a juvenile, its muscled body the size of a skytaxi, it was strong enough to lift a grown man in its claws.

And lift one it did.

With a screech as it dove, the creature heaved its giant wings and grabbed sloppily at the Jedi padawan with its talons, uncertain just HOW to best grip its prize. After one or two failed attempts, it managed to wrap a few talons sideways across his upper body, not the strongest of grips but it would do for the short flight back to the nest, and with a salvo of roars and the beating of its wings, the amber Tyrant made a quick but ungraceful exit, Padawan Tafo dangling vertically from one dragon foot. Off-balance, the dragon struggled to gain altitude with its snack attached, so it glided instead not forty feet from the icy ground…headed right for Drago and his men.

​

Perhaps Vidalu Na'an, Adelle Bastiel and Viktor Goetz would’ve escaped any further trauma at the claws of a Tyrant dragon, had this been a kinder world.

There may indeed be a day when the strength of men brings final victory, when the heroic dragon-wranglers of the rope and grenade complete their impossible mission and get to take the rest of the day off after a job well done, pockets full of their reward.

But it is not this day.

And Kalidan is not a forgiving world.

From the blinding white banks of snow piled against the rock formations below the ruins, they came. Not quite fully grown, but no adolescents.

One, larger, his obsidian metal scales flecked with a muddy green, the other slightly smaller, its bright orange and fiery gold dulled across its back with an ashy brown color… and the last, no bigger than a large hunting dog, its young scream shrill and its color gold and green.

They encircled Na’an, Adelle and Baron Goetz, heat bouncing off their limbs in waves. At the sight of the cream dragon subdued on the ground, they hung back a little, not quite hesitant, but waiting. Almost…thinking. The tiny beast snapped its jaws in childish bravado, small jets of fire bursting from its mouth, but they were too weak to reach anything other than the snow at its feet, and the orange Tyrant growled its displeasure, shuffling the young one out of its way with one of its wings with an unceremonious SWOOSH.

Rather abruptly, the obsidian reared its head back, dark maw gaping. Fire built in its black depths.

It was about to get very, very hot.

​

 

[Aaran Tafo]

The normal reaction the standard citizen of Kalidan would have to being picked up by an adolescent dragon would probably be a violent one. A great deal of shouting, rapid discharges of a blaster or hacking with a sharp object. And then either survival, if the citizen in question was a particular hardy one, or a much more probably outcome of death.

Thankfully, Aaran was not a citizen of Kalidan. So instead his reaction was a much more vibrant one. Laughing, hollaring and wooping. The Dragon, being a creature that hunts through the Force and is well used to sensing the emotions of its' prey before it strikes. It was used to fear, it was used to indignation. It was not used to excitement. A confused growl rumbling from its' chest as it craned its' head down to inspect the bounty it had caught. Only to receive a bright flash to its eyes in response. The Padawan seemingly not learning his lesson, or having learned his lesson and using it to great effect. Had decided to snap just one more Holopicture of the dragons in flight. This time from and entirely unique perspective.

"Been a blast!" He called out to the Dragon, deciding that now was the time for him to escape almost certain death if he ever allowed himself to be carried back to the creature's nest. As the beast roared in pain from the bright flash buring its' eyes, Aaran acted. Gathering his will and lashing out with the Force. A wave of kinetic force slamming into the underbelly of the beast. Driving the wind from the creature as it let out a low grunt. The grip on Aaran's midsection slacking enough for the Padawan to force his way out.

And he then proceeded to fall. Laughing and wooping all the way down.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was going to be an odd juxaposition for both Vyra Silara and Khorde Drago . Both of them came out into the snowy wastleand today with the foreknowledge that anything airborne today would bring certain death and doom. One could only imagine what went through their heads when they heard sounds of joy, laughter, excitement coming from up above. As descending towards them at a startling space was a dark figure. Far too small to be a dragon.

Seeing the ground closing in faster and faster. It occurred to the Padawan that he should now act to soften his own landing. Closing his eyes and letting his body relax. He flipped once in the air so he was now falling feet first. He began to push out of his lower extremities. And slowly, the snow next to Vyra and her bodyguards began to whip up. Spreading outwards from the falling object's projected landing spot. Whipping around faster and faster as the Padawan pushed out more and more kinetic energy to arrest his momentum.

Only for him to fail the landing utterly and fall flat on his face. His body impacting the hard-packed ground with a dull thump.

For a moment, there was no response. Leading one to have the initial assumption that the young man died upon impact. Or at the very least hit his head and was in a coma.

But, after a moment, there was a sign of life. A small twitch, a minute groan. "Worth it." A pained groan escaped from his lips as he peeled his face from the ground. Looking at his surroundings. "Oh." He began, looking around at the heavily armed individuals. "Am I interupting something? If I am sorry. Just let me get feeling back into my legs and I'll leave."

 

[Khorde Drago]

The Wolfguard would instantly move to comply with Kainan Wolfe commands, breaking the loose circle they'd formed around the Emperor and Vyra Silara . The unit of ten would stretch out in equal spacing in front of both of their charges, forming wall between them, and entire territory that the Tyrant's would consider home. Khorde himself moved away from the pair, stepping forward to stand in front of the Emperor and Empress. The boom of artillery was an all too familiar sound to his ears, each firing sequence serving to stir something within him. Despite the front he attempted to put up when he spoke to Cal, this was exciting. Being away from the frontlines, from the battles, well, it got boring.

He and his fellow Wolfguards would watch as Tacitus stepped past the line, preparing to confront the stark white beast that made it's way towards them, either oblivious to or ignoring the cacophony of sounds that happened around it. From the briefings and reports, Khorde knew the dragons created their scaled armors from devouring metals, both raw and refined. He wondered, then, what had this particular one been feasting on to gain it's color.

"Incoming!" One of the Wolves shouted, snapping Khorde and the rest's attention to the sky. A smaller Tyrant Dragon, clutching something in it's talons, made a B-line for the retinue. The unit would instantly level their KC-47 rifles at the adolescent, waiting for Khorde's command to fire. The delay wasn't so much because he thought that they could miss, or that they would hit whoever was in it's claws. No, it was the fact that the person was blocking the vital areas of the beast.

In the following moments, the person would be dropped from it's talons, and Khorde would give a silent confirmation, the Wolve's rifles ringing out into the area, bolts striking the underbelly of dragon, plucking it from it's glide and causing it to crash into the ground nearby. He signaled to three of the Wolves to go over and investigate, and if needed, finish it off, while he turned his attention towards Aaran Tafo .

"You'll leave now." He spoke in Basic, having learned the common language of the galaxy as a necessity rather than as a want. His accent was rough and brutish, as if he fought each syllable that he uttered. One of the Wolves would come up behind Aaran and drag him away from both Khorde and Vyra, towards the edges of the firing line they'd established, before releasing him, a rifle trained on his head. "Reform the line! We need to be prepared for the Emperor's call!" He said in his native High Nelvaanian. They all complied, while he spared a glance on Aaran. "Stay where you are, don't move, don't interfere."

 

[Tsavong Kraal]

Kalidan
Southern Wastes

Tendrils of an ooglith masquer licked away at the sides of his face as Vol adjusted his shawl. The arid weather was beginning to droll, and the Empire was bustling with activity as it attempted to dissuade these dragons from populating near the civilian sectors of the planet. The call had been put out, and the Shaper knew this was a prime opportunity to get his hands dirty in the field. Sitting in his laboratory wasn't exactly entertaining for a restless mind like Vol's - he always had to be occupied, always had to planning the next move. The Yuuzhan Vong had other ideas than the Empire's military at heart, but that wasn't quite the debate he wanted to have at this time. Followed he did, and abide he would.

Hearing some ruckus north of his position, Vol began to head in that direction.

 

[Formorta]

With the efficient speed of a droid Formorta rose from her position, one hand on her comlink, the other 5 taking care of her equipment while sprinting over the cold snowy ground. "Roger that over and out". Even if she didn't always see eye to eye with Kainan she found the man easy to work with, not fluff or unnecessary talking just details and orders. Perhaps that was what made the man so resilient, no matter how many times he and his empires had been put down the Kainan Wolfe was able to come back time and time again with a huge following of loyal and new followers. Needless to say she was quite impressed, even if such opinions would never be openly voice in the mans presence.

Cresting the hill over looking the landing force her red gaze shifted to the charging dragon as it made haste towards Khorde Drago and his men. "I always enjoy a moving target but it seems my help isn't needed". Regardless she set up her new sniper nest, covering the small group going to investigate the downed beast. Wild animals often liked to play dead when going up against hunting parties. With her anti armor rifle aimed at the dragons eye Formorta was confident she could down the beast before it could get up again.

As for the strange newcomer that was within the dragons grasp, she didn't care, unless given orders that idiot wasn't her problem.

@Aran Tafo

 

[Tsavong Kraal]

Kalidan
Southern Wastes

Vol, upon marching north, began to notice smoke on the horizon. Within sight among the arid landscape, on the horizon, was a caravan of Eternal soldiers crowded around a couple of speeders. They seemed to be loading materials onto the heavier of the two transports, and seemed rather undisturbed. One of the soldiers was on watch, however, and took notice of Vol upon his arrival.

"Halt!"

Vol raised his hands in submission, to show he meant no harm.

"State your business, traveler."

"Just passing through, friend." He peered over the shoulder of the soldier questioning him. "And those... seem to be eggs."

The soldier turned and looked, then back to Vol.

"You'd best carry on. There's dragons afoot out here, and a bounty on their offspring. We're not keen on sharing our loot, move on."

 

[Cero Pax]

The cockpit of the Ne'tra rattled as it was rammed into once again by the Tyrant. No doubt the ship was beginning to show it's age in the form of the wear and tear it was suffering from the fighting. By now, Cero had begun to realize several facts about the beast that was drawing out this fight and making it harder than he'd initially guessed. The first was that, whatever it ore that was being taken from these mines, the Tyrant had obviously turned into a feast for itself, building up scales that could be compared to military-grade plating. The drawback of this however seemed to be that it wasn't capable of full on flight, instead relying on it's wings to glide. Normally he'd take advantage of this and just pelt it with blaster fire until it was either subdued, or dead, but in this instance safe range and effective range were two mutually exclusive concepts.

The second, was that it was more agile than it initially looked. It was able to dart across the ground, avoiding the majority of his weapon's fire, and then leap off into tackle against the ship. The Ne'tra was strong, but it wouldn't last forever, not under these conditions. His proximity sensors blipped as a new mark appeared on his radar, along with an open communications channel. He watched as the newcomer fired on the Tyrant, though it was much to the same luck as he'd been having.

"Why not, the more the merrier." Cero brought his ship around the Tyrant, allowing his blaster turrets to fire on it. "Word of advice, this one's got armor like a Frigate. Pot-shots aren't gonna have much effect."

Kalic Daws

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Na'an scowled even through her embarrassed flush--not so much at anyone in specific, than at the whole stupid situation. She'd planned on having a full day ahead of her before having to justify this decision to her friend--that, and at least two dragons' worth of credits for whatever it was Leigh was doing. But her newest companion, now under the impression that her life somehow mattered to the gorram Empire, had all but walked her right into the conversation early. Now that she was here, it wasn't like she could avoid Adelle Bastiel and her worry. She sidled past Viktor Goetz , pulling both of her hands out of her pockets and holding them up, fingers splayed. "I'm not injured," she said, knowing and not caring that she probably sounded a little petulant. "I already popped the joint back in, and I've got bacta for the swelling already.

"And you--" she rounded on Viktor for a moment, and this time the scowl was specifically for him and his stupid mask. "I'm not a VIP, and you calling me that is not helping."

So. It was going to be like that. At the mention of popping her joint back in, Adelle's frown deepened and she pointed a finger at the foldaway examination table.

"Sit," she said. "If it got dislocated, you're lucky you didn't accidentally pinch a ligament forcing it back in. They already suffered damage."

Turning toward Adelle Bastiel and not sparing Vidalu Na'an a look while she spoke to him, Viktor stated formally, "The V.I.P. seems non-cooperative. Do you require assistance doctor? If you deem her unfit to continue, I could help escort her back to Wulfengard for further treatment."

As he stood waiting for Adelle's response, his earpiece suddenly emitted an urgent status report.

Her smile felt wry, even to her. "Thank you, but no. Na'an knows better than to fight her healer."

She sent a pointed glance at Na'an before she pulled out a bioscanner and held out a hand for Na'an's injured wrist. "The sooner you comply, the sooner you can go back to chasing literal dragons to your heart's content."

Looking over at Na'an and Adelle again, he stated, "I'm sorry doctor but I will have to step out for a moment."

​

From the blinding white banks of snow piled against the rock formations below the ruins, they came. Not quite fully grown, but no adolescents.

One, larger, his obsidian metal scales flecked with a muddy green, the other slightly smaller, its bright orange and fiery gold dulled across its back with an ashy brown color… and the last, no bigger than a large hunting dog, its young scream shrill and its color gold and green.

They encircled Na’an, Adelle and Baron Goetz, heat bouncing off their limbs in waves. At the sight of the cream dragon subdued on the ground, they hung back a little, not quite hesitant, but waiting. Almost…thinking. The tiny beast snapped its jaws in childish bravado, small jets of fire bursting from its mouth, but they were too weak to reach anything other than the snow at its feet, and the orange Tyrant growled its displeasure, shuffling the young one out of its way with one of its wings with an unceremonious SWOOSH.

Rather abruptly, the obsidian reared its head back, dark maw gaping. Fire built in its black depths.

It was about to get very, very hot.

​

Adelle hadn't been about to reply but hardly had Viktor said he was stepping out than the shuttle lurched, lifting off before even the engines had fully ignited. She gripped onto the table as the two engineers rushed inside, trying to stow both equipment and the two hunters. Before the sealed door had fully closed behind them, beyond the still-rising ramp, she could see the ground pulling away from them. Adelle stumbled to her feet as the wind suddenly caught the shuttle again and half-fell to the cockpit's entry.

"Sit-rep?" she called.

The pilot hardly glanced her way. "Dragons! Strap in, doc!"

Adelle staggered back to the main compartment, hanging onto straps and any handhold she could find. The pilot's evasive flying plus the turbulence made for a bumpy ride. The two engineers held onto straps attached to the walls, leaving the seats for the two hunters on board. Adelle made her way to the viewport to see how close the dragons were.

Flames roared past the viewport. She could feel the heat even from behind the shuttle's hull. The shuttle pitched to the right, trying to get away from the jet of fire. Adelle quickly adjusted and made her way to the cockpit again.

"Ash?"

"Three and they're too fast out here in the open," she said, glancing down at the helm. "Shavit! Sonnuvaschutta's damaged the port engine."

Adelle left, pushing herself to the cabinets filled with medical supplies. She grabbed a vial and a syringe, pulling bacta into the tube while she braced herself in a corner. She moved to Na'an and slipped the needle into the wrist she could feel residual pain from, trying to be as steady as she could while the shuttle rocked wildly.

"Wait at least thirty seconds before doing something stupid," she said. Chaos take me, I'm about to something just as dumb. She grabbed one of the engineers masks and turned to Viktor. "How well can you fall?"



Vidalu Na'an | Viktor Goetz

 

[Tsavong Kraal]

Kalidan
Southern Wastes

Vol raised his hands in submission yet again, a gesture of grace to the mercenaries. "My friends, relax. Yes, I very much desire the eggs."

The men bristled obviously. There was always a reason a stranger approached one in the wilderness, and it wasn't always for quests of great fortune.

"...but I'm no charlatan. I'm a man of means, hoping to chance upon strangers such as yourselves looking for a better payday than the Empire is offering. They'll get their due, but there's no reason we can't reach some... agreement."

"What sort of agreement are you proposing," the mouth breather responded, gripping his rifle tighter and in an aggressive posture.

"The oldest agreement," Vol responded. He slowly reached into his robes, procuring a bag of credits.

"Vol has coin, if these men have wares."

 

[Viktor Goetz]

"Wait at least thirty seconds before doing something stupid," she said. Chaos take me, I'm about to something just as dumb. She grabbed one of the engineers masks and turned to Viktor. "How well can you fall?"

Adelle Bastiel

"Much better than you." Viktor mused before slamming the release button on hangar doors of the shuttle and jumping out, unclipping the grappling gun from his belt and aiming toward the shuttle. As the hook of the grappling hook punctured the side of the shuttle, the line went taut and Viktor strained with all his might to hold onto the grappling gun and maintain his grasp on his rifle. Swinging to the rooftop of a nearby building, he let go of the grappling gun and barrel-rolled forward before instantly leaping forward into a dash across the roof and toward the three dragons. Aiming the strike rifle at the smallest dragon's head, a torrent of slugs pelted against its scales. It clearly hurt the small dragon greatly, as it immediately tried to dodge and hide behind the other dragons. Viktor's aim was unrelenting as he jumped from the roof and onto the other, momentarily pausing the rain of fire to balance himself and continue his advance, before looking upwards to fire once again.

The attention of the dragons focused entirely on Viktor, and they roared as the small dragon began to bleed from its head and small droplets of blood fell onto the untampered snow underneath them. He loudly ordered out, "Shades, initiate the ritual."

The four shimmers appeared below the dragons, and they began chanting in ancient Dathomiri tongues. Gaseous green elements gathered and appeared from their chests, illuminating and bathing the area in a sickly, neon green.

As the dragons noticed the four people below them, Viktor diverted their attention back to him by firing upon their skulls once again, halting momentarily to throw out the spent magazine and reload.

As the larger black dragon roared and blasted a wave of fire in Viktor's direction, he leapt off the building and into the circle formed by the four shimmers. Entering the circle, the gaseous green elements warped inward and into Viktor's body, and the distinct, horrifying sounds of bones crackling and flesh rending could be heard. The gun in his hands warped and distorted as the strength in his hands crushed durasteel and wood of the strike rifle.

Tossing the gun aside, he spread his arms out and opened his palms, his eyes brightly shining with green light. Gutturally yelling a single word in Dathomiri, a man-sized emerald shard appeared above him, instantly accelerating forward and striking the bright orange dragon in its head. Piercing through the dragon's head, the dragon fell from the skies and a shower of blood soaked Viktor and the four shades in a coat of dragon blood.

The green light in his eyes dimmed but were still present, gazing directly at large, obsidian dragon. Imbuing the Force in his voice and forcefully compelling the dragon to submit, he commanded coldly, "Prostrate."

Vidalu Na'an

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

One of Na'an's wrists was still in Adelle's hands when the shuttle had suddenly, violently taken off; the other had suddenly been focused on bracing herself as it juked and bucked against the dragons buffeting the hull. Both wrists were still so occupied, keeping her balance and trying to think of a way to get everyone inside out of the line of fire, when her masked companion--Viktor, she reminded herself, his name is Viktor--suddenly slammed the shuttle hatch open. He belted off some one-liner about being able to fall better as if it made sense, then without so much as a warning launched himself at the dragons now flying after them outside.

For a second, Na'an couldn't think of anything to do but to lean into the snow-flecked wind now swirling inside the shuttle, and watch. Her mouth popped open a little as he shot the tiny one with the rifle on his back, which somehow actually did some damage. It opened wider when he, suddenly surrounded by vague green glimmering shapes, then one-shotted the orange dragon screaming into his face with some kind of giant green crystal. The animal fell, its head now a gory fireball, into the snow below; Viktor himself was now drenched in dark blood, both he and his summons dripping all over the half-wrecked rooftop.

"Oh, gods," she found herself whispering in horror. She turned to Adelle, pulling her wrist gently out of the Healer's grip. Her friend was mad at her, she knew, but by the look on her face there was no way they weren't about to be in total agreement.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know he was an idiot. But turns out, he's a gorram idiot."

Outside the shuttle, with he and his shimmers perched on the top of what must have been a church, Viktor had turned his attention to the black dragon now screaming its rage into its face. If Na'an didn't act now, he'd kill this one before she could even move. Na'an pulled herself back to her feet, thanking the gods that at least all this had happened before Adelle could get her coat off in the shuttle's former warmth. Her rope had been tied loosely around her waist; she uncoiled it again, holding an end in each hand as she approached the now open hatch. Just under her cuff, she could feel the fully-loaded tranq against her skin, ready to unsheath at will.

"Hey MORON," she bellowed into the blistering cold. "You gorram karking sithspit son of a HUTT, stop killing all the bounty with your fancy karking witch powers and KARKING THINK!"

The Force coiled in her thighs, and she launched herself into the air much like Viktor had. The main difference between them, however, was that her target wasn't the ground or a rooftop, but the base of the black dragon's neck. She landed on scaly flesh with a whumpf, staggering as the curve of the beast's neck bent violently to accomodate the sudden weight. The dragon screamed, the sound higher than that of the adult before, piercing enough to hurt; Na'an's vison seemed to double momentarily as she scrambled to a seated position. Her legs wrapped around one of the dragon's larger crest spines, which left her hands free to tie a double loop around as many of the other spines as she could reach. This wouldn't be like the adult. From this position on its neck, the monster wouldn't be able to twist back and kill her, but that was the trick of it. She had to stay on top of the young dragon if she wanted a chance to use the more than one tranq without getting burned or bucked.

And there was no way a wild young tyrant dragon wouldn't try to buck her.

"Of all the--gha--" she groused as she worked, looping spine after spine as she fought to keep her balance then tying the same double loop around her waist. The motion of the flesh beneath her was enough to rattle her skull at least once over. "Seriously--I would have been--better off bringing Leigh, at least she can't--freeze to death--stupid dumb animal, stop squirming, do you want to die--"

The tranq came out of her sleeve as smooth as clockwork. Na'an took it in hand and slammed it into a space between the scales and the spines, then depressed the button to discharge the first cartridge's dose into dragonflesh.

Viktor Goetz | Adelle Bastiel ​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

"Much better than you." Viktor mused before slamming the release button on hangar doors of the shuttle and jumping out, unclipping the grappling gun from his belt and aiming toward the shuttle. As the hook of the grappling hook punctured the side of the shuttle, the line went taut and Viktor strained with all his might to hold onto the grappling gun and maintain his grasp on his rifle. Swinging to the rooftop of a nearby building, he let go of the grappling gun and barrel-rolled forward before instantly leaping forward into a dash across the roof and toward the three dragons. Aiming the strike rifle at the smallest dragon's head, a torrent of slugs pelted against its scales. It clearly hurt the small dragon greatly, as it immediately tried to dodge and hide behind the other dragons. Viktor's aim was unrelenting as he jumped from the roof and onto the other, momentarily pausing the rain of fire to balance himself and continue his advance, before looking upwards to fire once again.

The scathing retort died on her lips as the man propelled himself through both the sealed door and the rear hatch in the blink of an eye. Hardly a second later there came a screeching thud from the port side of the shuttle. Wind and snow now whistled around the grappling hook lodged in the hull.

"We're hit!" Ash yelled. "Rapidly losing internal temperature. What was that?"

"That kriffing animal," Adelle hissed. She turned on Na'an. "I blame you for this."

The attention of the dragons focused entirely on Viktor, and they roared as the small dragon began to bleed from its head and small droplets of blood fell onto the untampered snow underneath them. He loudly ordered out, "Shades, initiate the ritual."

The four shimmers appeared below the dragons, and they began chanting in ancient Dathomiri tongues. Gaseous green elements gathered and appeared from their chests, illuminating and bathing the area in a sickly, neon green.

As the dragons noticed the four people below them, Viktor diverted their attention back to him by firing upon their skulls once again, halting momentarily to throw out the spent magazine and reload.

As the larger black dragon roared and blasted a wave of fire in Viktor's direction, he leapt off the building and into the circle formed by the four shimmers. Entering the circle, the gaseous green elements warped inward and into Viktor's body, and the distinct, horrifying sounds of bones crackling and flesh rending could be heard. The gun in his hands warped and distorted as the strength in his hands crushed durasteel and wood of the strike rifle.

Tossing the gun aside, he spread his arms out and opened his palms, his eyes brightly shining with green light. Gutturally yelling a single word in Dathomiri, a man-sized emerald shard appeared above him, instantly accelerating forward and striking the bright orange dragon in its head. Piercing through the dragon's head, the dragon fell from the skies and a shower of blood soaked Viktor and the four shades in a coat of dragon blood.

The green light in his eyes dimmed but were still present, gazing directly at large, obsidian dragon. Imbuing the Force in his voice and forcefully compelling the dragon to submit, he commanded coldly, "Prostrate."

"Oh, gods," she found herself whispering in horror. She turned to Adelle, pulling her wrist gently out of the Healer's grip. Her friend was mad at her, she knew, but by the look on her face there was no way they weren't about to be in total agreement.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know he was an idiot. But turns out, he's a gorram idiot."

Outside the shuttle, with he and his shimmers perched on the top of what must have been a church, Viktor had turned his attention to the black dragon now screaming its rage into its face. If Na'an didn't act now, he'd kill this one before she could even move. Na'an pulled herself back to her feet, thanking the gods that at least all this had happened before Adelle could get her coat off in the shuttle's former warmth. Her rope had been tied loosely around her waist; she uncoiled it again, holding an end in each hand as she approached the now open hatch. Just under her cuff, she could feel the fully-loaded tranq against her skin, ready to unsheath at will.

"Hey MORON," she bellowed into the blistering cold. "You gorram karking sithspit son of a HUTT, stop killing all the bounty with your fancy karking witch powers and KARKING THINK!"

The Force coiled in her thighs, and she launched herself into the air much like Viktor had.

Adelle watched as Na'an landed straddling the black dragon's neck then turned into the shuttle and placed the mask on her face. "Head back to the hangar. I'll rendezvous with you later."

"What are you talking about!" Ash shouted over the wind. Adelle stepped to the edge of the ramp and jumped off of it like a springboard.

"Wait! Doc!" an engineer cried. The wind swept the rest of his words away. The cold needled her skin as she stretched out a bare hand and pulled at the smallest dragon that had circled around to find its less dangerous prey. She gripped at the slick icy scales, wincing when she touched the hot blood streaming from its skull. Her leg swung around its spine, the adolescent scutes along its back still pliable. They felt warm to her touch and akin to the soft cartilage of a human nose. It tried to buck beneath her weight but it was only slightly bigger than she and didn't have the power of its larger siblings. A screech escaped its throat as did several flames and Adelle deftly moved out of reach as its neck circled around to snap at her.

Animal friendship was not her forte, but she could feel the dragon's terror and pain. Its movements lacked its earlier enthusiasm. Adelle closed her eyes against the blinding wind and biting snow, pressing her hand to the base of the creature's neck. A slug from Viktor's rifle had lodged itself just underneath the skull, having scraped against the thing's brain. It would never fully recover, if it survived the day. Adelle breathed in the burning cold and focused.

"Rest," she said.

The dragon squawked but its movements faltered a moment before it went back to trying to dislodge its unwanted rider.

"Rest," she said firmer. "You need it."

For a moment, the dragon continued to fly after the shuttle. Then its pace slowed and it circled around to the ruins, gliding instead of flapping furiously. Adelle kept her eyes closed, focused on that one word, the dragon's need: Rest. It circled around the crumbled remains of a three-story building, landing on an uneven wall and then crawled over the edge. Adelle used the Force to jump safely from its back as it descended the wall and followed it into a half-collapsed room through a hole. It glared balefully at her and hissed, but hardly moved from the tight ball it curled up in. Adelle paused but when it didn't move, she sat next to it.

The wind howled outside and little flurries of giant snowflakes swirled inside but next to the dragon, Adelle was tempted to even take her thin coat off. A low rumbling began in the small space, powerful enough to send vibrations through Adelle's bones. The rumbling paused as the dragon chirped in its throat then continued once it stilled. Gently, Adelle removed the loose, damaged scales on its head and held her hand over the gaping wound still pumping blood. It would be easier and humane to simply put it out of its misery.

It opened a half-lidded copper eye at her and chirped before resuming its position and its rumbling.

Adelle huffed out a breath, watching it form thick clouds before it dissipated in the cold. Today just wasn't going to be easy, was it. She focused on the bullet lodged deep inside and started to pull.

Knives pierced her arm and Adelle lost her focus. She punched the stiff nose of the dragon reflexively. The dragon growled at her.

"You ass," she hissed. Another growl but the dragon did not let go of her arm. "Fine, if that's how you're going to be."

Adelle grit her teeth and placed her hand over the wound again, pulling on the chunk of metal. The dragon's teeth squeezed around her arm as it issued a louder growl but Adelle kept her attention on the bullet. Slowly, slick with thick hot blood, the slug emerged from the hole it had made. Sweat beaded on her forehead from the heat of the dragon and the pain but she kept working slowly. Once she was sure no further damage could be done, the slug flew to her hand like the projectile it was. Fresh blood streamed from the cavity now but the dragon's jaw loosened around her arm. Slitted eyes went wide with curiosity as Adelle showed it the bullet.

"Feel better now?" she said, tucking it into a pocket. She reached for the dragon's head again.

The jaws clamped down tighter and the dragon growled loudly. Adelle hissed in pain. "Mother-kriffing guerfel, you're worse than Na'an."

So be it. This dragon wouldn't stop her. Adelle slipped into the Force and began to channel its healing power.



Vidalu Na'an | Viktor Goetz

 

[Viktor Goetz]

Baron Viktor Goetz took a deep breath to collect himself before he approached the deceased dragon in front of him. Touching the dragon's wound, blood began coiling outward and collecting in his palm, before leaving the dragon an emancipated corpse of its former glory. The blood congealed and pooled into a sphere of dark crimson, compressing and condensing into a smaller and smaller sphere. The blood that spilled over the scene began slowly rising and collecting as well, before a small, black marble was produced. Chanting under his breath, the black marble began erupting with shades of green, crackling and sharding as green light broke through the darkness of the marble. The marble seemingly imploded, collapsing on itself into nothingness before exploding outward, spread an emerald mist that surrounded Viktor and the four shades. The mist attracted itself into their bodies, and the shades let out audible gasps of comfort and satisfaction.

"Hey MORON," she bellowed into the blistering cold. "You gorram karking sithspit son of a HUTT, stop killing all the bounty with your fancy karking witch powers and KARKING THINK!"

He looked up at Na'an and remarked back, "It is here."

He kept on looking up, but he was not looking at Na'an anymore but a small figure in the skies far above her. And the figure became larger and larger, and soon, a shadow was cast on Vidalu Na'an , Viktor and Adelle Bastiel that exponentially grew as the seconds past. Soon, the entire street was shrouded in darkness as a gigantic grey dragon descended from the skies and roared majestically. It flexed and spread out its gigantic wings that shrouded the dull sun of Kalidan and imposed its might on the creatures below.

Viktor engaged in his armor's stealth systems, as did the other four shades, and quickly retreated outward, only loudly stating, "I suggest you look up."

Running towards Na'an position, he hoped her luck would not run out yet.

 

[Tsavong Kraal]

"A fair trade," one of the men said. "Always on the lookout for more pay days." Vol offered them the bag of credits.

It wasn't quite obvious if Obaul Di was rich, or not, due to his apparel. The guards looked at each other, then back at Vol. "This is enough for.... two."

Vol's brow furrowed.

A shifting tentacle, abrazen with black polyps, began to slither out of his right sleeve and down his arm.

"....Three it is, then."

Vol nodded, and the organism disappeared.

He accepted the eggs, placing them in his cloak, and bid his acquaintances farewell as he began to move off into the distance of the desert.

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

He looked up at Na'an and remarked back, "It is here."

The tranq's sedative was beginning to take hold. One dose wouldn't be enough to down a dragon, not even an adolescent one, but the bucking and twisting of the wild animal under her was beginning to slow a little. It wasn't enough that Na'an could stop holding on for dear life, however, so she had to satisfy herself with yelling at Viktor Goetz as she worked at switching the cartridge.

"I'm sorry," she bellowed, "but I don't have time for your stupid vague sithspittle, I'm kinda busy getting my brain rattled, so whatever it is could you just--"

In the middle of her tirade, even through the vague grey sky of the storm, a shadow fell on the ruin.

He kept on looking up, but he was not looking at Na'an anymore but a small figure in the skies far above her. And the figure became larger and larger, and soon, a shadow was cast on Vidalu Na'an , Viktor and Adelle Bastiel that exponentially grew as the seconds past. Soon, the entire street was shrouded in darkness as a gigantic grey dragon descended from the skies and roared majestically. It flexed and spread out its gigantic wings that shrouded the dull sun of Kalidan and imposed its might on the creatures below.

Viktor engaged in his armor's stealth systems, as did the other four shades, and quickly retreated outward, only loudly stating, "I suggest you look up."

Running towards Na'an position, he hoped her luck would not run out yet.

"...Oh, sithspit."

It was the same mottled grey-white as the storm around them. As Na'an craned her neck up and up and up to take in the full height of this new threat, she felt almost that she was looking at the storm itself: too big for sense, so massive it seemed impossible to process in any terms but those of sheer fury and terror and wonder. The cream one still lying in the street was an adult, wasn't it? That one was supposed to be as big as they got, and when that one roared it had been loud enough to shake every one of Na'an's bones. The noise this one was making was deep enough and booming enough to rattle the ground itself beneath its claws.

Meanwhile, she was tied bodily to an adolescent of the species. Adelle Bastiel was on the ground, with the medical shuttle compromised, and the medics inside would be of little help. And Viktor clearly was not the type of man who bothered with communicating anything resembling a plan, only shouting something about looking up before vanishing into thin air.

How? How?

How in the world were they supposed to handle this?

The black dragon she was straddling seemed, strangely, to agree. At the grey dragon's landing at the end of the street, any resistance the animal was putting up to Na'an had vanished. Its head was craned upwards at the monstrous example of its own species just as Na'an's was, rock still with a sort of animal wariness she recognized. A sudden shiver ran through the flesh of its neck, and a fact from last night's flimsies suddenly occurred to Na'an--that tyrant dragons, when presented with a lack of food to support their own bulk, were known to seek out and feast on members of their own kind.

A tyrant dragon of this size? There was only one source of food big enough to possibly support it--and the young dragon knew it.

The idea came out of seemingly nowhere. Na'an whistled, a high sharp note designed to carry through the wind and get her mount's attention. The dragon's eye, dark shiny obsidian flecked with gold, flicked in her direction, fixing her with a gaze that somehow seemed both fierce and frightened. Not for the first time, Na'an wished she'd been taught more than the barest basics of Animal Friendship as a youngling. She hadn't had to try something like this in decades...but then, what else could you do when strapped to the back of an animal but try to make nice? She swallowed, then took a deep breath, a gesture that always helped her focus when she needed to call on the Force in...softer ways.

"Hey, beastie," she said to that sharp intelligent eye, placing one palm flush against the dragon's neck. In response, she could feel another shiver through the smooth skin beneath her. "Truce?"

The dragon stared. Na'an stared back, not daring to breathe and break what she hoped was a connection. She didn't need it to trust her or like her--she just needed it to understand that she wasn't the enemy it needed to fight right now to survive. She prayed it understood, hoped and hoped and threw herself into the Force with all her hope. It HAD to understand--even if what she was doing wasn't proper Animal Friendship, tyrant dragons could feel the Force, they weren't stupid, it had to be able to feel her--and it really was a beautiful animal, sleek and warm and wonderfully, terribly alive in her hand--she could feel the faint rumbling of its pulse under her sensitive fingertips, hot and thick and liquid--

Then quickly, that black-and-gold eye blinked once. The young dragon swiveled its head towards the monster still roaring its fury at them, and beneath Na'an's feet she could feel a shifting of flesh that could only be the unfolding of wings. In response a grin, fierce and frightened, spread across her lips as she took the slack ends of the syntherope in both hands.

"Okay, then. Looking up it is. Here we go--"

She pulled up on the syntherope, and felt a thrill run through both their bodies as they took to the air.

There wasn't any way she was taking this monster on by herself, even mounted. Besides, it wasn't even like she was really in control here. But from the air, she could at least distract it while Adelle got clear. Her friend hadn't spouted off a stream of profanity like she had only seconds ago; maybe she could get Viktor back on board with cooperation.

Adelle Bastiel | Viktor Goetz​

 

[Vyra Silara]

|| Aaran Tafo || Khorde Drago || Kainan Wolfe ||
​

She really should stay where she was, sequestered from peril behind the line where she was in no danger of getting in the way. She should.

But Vyra was breaking away and marching through the snow towards the dragon-borne newcomer before she could talk herself out of it. The man had come from the direction of Vidalu Na'an 's last known position, and she had questions.

Besides, she’d joined this mission to help however she could, not just to prove herself to the people she’d be ruling over. And if she couldn’t accomplish that right now, the least she could do was tend to those around her, strangers included.

A short distance away, the amber winged creature was stumbling around on the snow screaming, its wounds from the rifle bolts across its belly and the broken wing from the crash taking its toll on his energy. But it was not without some fight. It seethed at the three approaching Wolfguard as it half lay in the snow, lashing out wildly with its tail, snapping weakly at them when they grew too close, an animal in pain. The dragon coughed out a few puffs of flame, enough to melt the ground before it but too small and short to catch any of the men unless they were slow dodging.

Vyra watched it somberly as she passed. It knew it wouldn’t escape, yet its constitution wouldn’t allow it to simply lay down and die. She’d seen it before in the Pits, on the ship they were stolen from..in herself. The politician had half a mind to change course and put the creature out of its misery herself, but knew it wouldn’t earn her any points. No, if she was to truly make an impact on these warriors, it would have to be on her own.

Screeches from above called her attention upwards, but the handful of dragons lazily circling them were high, like vultures waiting for their victims last breath.

Pushing back her hood as she neared the stranger at the edges of the firing line, Vyra popped her goggles up on her head and pulled the red cloth down from her face. Strands of her dark hair broke free of her loose braid, fluttering across her forehead and cheeks. She ignored them. He was surrounded by masked men with rifles trained at his head. Seeing a human face might help ease tensions, if there were any.

“Are you alright, sir?” she asked, coming around to face him (Aaran) and lightly placing a gloved hand on his arm in friendly concern. Vyra looked at him, mystified at his lack of wounds. “You’re not injured? …It carried you in from the north, what in Whills’ name is going on over there?”

​

 

[Aaran Tafo]

He did not react much to one of Khorde Drago 's men grabbing him by the leg and dragging him away from the firing line. His attention not on the manhandling. But instead on the one man who told him to leave. Craning his head up. His gaze reamined locked on Khorde all the while. A puzzled look on his face. Wondering just how a creature like this could exist.

Even a corpse registered to one's unseen senses granted by the Force. Droids, the environment. The Force flowed through all things. Existing within all matter in the universe and beyond. But now, right in front of him. There was some creature that did not register in any way. It was looking into a blank spot cut from the canvas of a painting. One intellectually knew something should be there. And possibly existed there at some point. But now there was simply nothing.

Aaran shivered. And it was not from the biting chill.

So drawn in to his existential musing and his curiosity as to how an abomination like Khorde could exist. That the touch of Vyra Silara was enough to cause him to jump. Springing to his feet with alarmingly fast reflexes. Fast enough that the guard who had their blaster pointed at the Padawan's head whipped their own weapon upwards. The dull hum of the weapon powering up audible. But of course, if a single soldier with a gun unnerved the Jedi. It was not shown on his face.

"Tougher than I look." He said, shaking his head once to clear out the wooziness caused by his fall. Thankfully it was only enough to rattle him, not cause something serious like a concussion. Pausing for a moment, he mulled over her question. "Right. North. Well, there was a dragon. But after some crazy woman did something reckless. Its now knocked out and waiting for pickup. Then a medic shuttle arrived, I wandered off. Got picked up by another Dragon and I wiggled out, and then landed here." He said, tone still bright and cheerful, a no doubt refreshing energy for the Empress. So surrounded was she by many dour people.

Even the energy around the young man was different from what she may have been used to. Those strong with the Force tended to have a slight empathetic effect on those close to them. And around Aaran, the chill did not bite as much, a smile came to one's lips easier. There was a calmness to him. A sense of peace and contentment.

As his gaze wandered over Vyra's shoulder. Back towards the same dragon that had carried him through the wastes. A slight frown creasing over his normally placid features. And perhaps, if Vyra was observant enough, she would see a slight twist of his wrist. JUst as a sudden harsh breeze came into existence around Khorde's men as they prepared to gun down the fallen Dragon. A sudden, harsh surge of snow erupted around them. Clearly a just a freak instance of the planet's harsh weather. Obfuscating the dragon from sight and throwing off their aim.

This was culminated with a single harsh mental command that slammed into the Dragon's mind with all the weight and force of a sledgehammer. It needed to escape now. Hunger was temporary. Death was eternal. Unless it took this chance to escape, it would die.

"Name's Aaran by the way. Who are you guys?" He said, attempting to keep as much attention on himself as possible for the moment.

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

She heard the earth-shuddering roar seconds before searing claws raked through her coat and skin and a large furnace tried to hide its head behind her. Adelle rubbed her eyes as she came out of the healing trance she'd briefly entered. The baby dragon had done its best to crawl behind her but only managed its head, its body shivering and tense. The cuts from its claws were shallow, not enough for her to worry about, but the rips in her jacket were mildly concerning. The jacket itself wasn't rated for prolonged expeditions into Kalidan's wilds. With holes, it was far less so. Gingerly, Adelle extricated herself from the baby dragon and crawled towards the hole. A mournful cry echoed in the small space. Adelle glanced back at the dragon, tightly curled up into a green ball and watching her with dilated eyes.

"You're safe here," she said. "Stay."

The wind whipped the ends of her coat around and the cold tore right through its thin insulation. Adelle cursed Kalidan beneath her breath and marched back towards the source of the roar. At the end of a street, half-perched on the surrounding buildings, a massive grey and white mottled dragon surveyed its hunting grounds.

"Of kriffing course," Adelle hissed. The dragon snapped its head to look at her and roared.

Na'an felt nearby, mobile. The other hunter and four other presences were near and hidden. Good. That boded well for their odds against this ancient terror. Adelle drew on the Force, gathering it into her, and then shot her arms out. Giant invisible hands clamped down around the dragon's mouth and forced its head to the ground. She grit her teeth as the dragon struggled against its unseen assailant but hopefully, the hunters in the area would take the opportunity before she burned herself out.

She was definitely going to need a nap after this.



Vidalu Na'an | Viktor Goetz