Into the Fold at Last [Mandalorians Dominion of Alderaan]

[Attrion Harnol]

Objective 2
Post 6.

Attrion gave a slight bow and made his way outside the palace. As he exited, the checkpoint guard gave his slugger back and Attrion thanked him as he slipped it back in place on his back. He proceeded out into the city, browsing the goods of the various marketplaces and the drinks of the cantina’s. He had stayed in one particular cantina for quite some time, falling asleep at the bar beside his drink.
He awoke to a glass shattering, dammit, it was his drink. The man responsible took a seat next to him and sneered, “Take off that helmet so I can see who I’m addressing.” He said, irritation in his voice.
“What are you mumbling about? I hope you’re going to pay for my drink.” Attrion replied, removing his helmet, more out of curiosity than anything.
“Attrion Harnol,” he said, standing up, “you are a traitor to the True Mandalorian’s and for that, Death Watch sentences you to death!” He drew a slender knife from his side and lunged at Attrion head. Attrion dropped down, swinging his stool upwards into the man’s ribs as he lunged, the man went flying into the corner of the room, the other patron’s rushing out of the cantina to avoid harm. The man regained his senses and stood, he was clearly trained in combat by the way he held his weapon and the way he stood. He rushed at Attrion, the blade held close to his side, searching for an opening. He found one and attacked, thrusting the knife between a chink in Attrion’s armour, it found its mark and gashed his abdomen. Attrion cursed and elbowed the man in the head, he staggered back at the blow but recovered, shouting in anger. Attrion rushed forward and kneed the man in the gut, he doubled over and Attrion threw him to the ground, boot to his head.
“Tell me everything…”

 

[Brent Warnel]

Objective: 1
Allies: [member="Davon Karr"] | [member="Sabine Kurtass"] | [member="Ember Rekali"] | [member="Dilios"]
Enemies: Death Watch
Post: 1

Brent had gotten word of the need for help by Alderaan forces as a contingent of Death Watch troopers had attacked a Phrik mine and dispatched the allied forces that had been stationed there. Once on the field and near one of the mine entrances he checked his gear again before joining a group of vod that were gearing up to push forward into the mines.

The entrance to the mine where this group of Mando'ade had set up was heavily pockmarked by battle. The remains of several Death Watch troopers were strewn about, along with their gear they had used to defend the entrance. The vod that had killed them were now setting up the position in their favor, alternately shoring up the entrance from attacks from within the mine and without. Collapsible barricades were being deployed in strategic positions to help with cover, along with several heavy turrets.

Brent did a double check of all his armor and weapons, and then checked a fellow commando to make sure he was ready for combat while another gave him the same courtesy. He got a slap on the shoulder and a thumbs up; everything looked good.

"You're good brother," Brent said to the commando he was checking over, giving him a small clap on the helmet for added emphasis.

The Mando nodded his approval and turned to face the tunnel entrance as the command to advance was given. Brent, along with the team he was attached too, pushed forward into the mines. They didn't go more than a couple hundred feet before the troops came into contact with Death Watch forces. Blaster fire erupted all around him and his team as the enemy gave their all to defend the positions they had so brutally taken.

He took down several enemy troopers as he pushed forward with his team, his blaster keeping up a constant stream of fire as he pressed forward. It was going to be shoot, then get to cover, then advance, then shoot again, over and over until they had pushed the Death Watch out of the mines or until they gave up. The Mando team he was with did just that for what seemed like hours until the enemy combatants started to pull back and the fighting dulled down into a brief pause.

His armor had some carbon scoring on it and his boot was starting to act a little funny, but all in all it wasn't bad progress. For how entrenched the Death Watch had been, they weren't now. The Watch was reeling from the attacks by the combined forces of the Mandalorians and Alderaanian troops, but it didn't mean they were finished though; even now groups of Death Watch had to be gathering for a counterattack. Some of those started to hit back at the Mando positions as calls came over the comm that the fighting had renewed. One group of enemy combatants that had decided to leave their defensive positions and retaliate ran headlong into Brent and the team of commandos he was accompanying, and the tunnel they were in was soon filled with blaster fire.

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

Objective: House Syrush Rises
Location: King's Pass; Alderaan
Allies: Alderaanians, Mandalorians, Royal House of Alderaan
Enemies: The Environment, Death Watch
Post: 2 / 35


"Ma'am."

"Report."

The words came naturally as she didn't even bother to lift her head, focused upon the map before her. The overlay of the fortress and where the sections would fall upon the building site. Much of the fortress would be either on the mountain itself or at its foot. The rest was to be dug into the very rock and fortified within. As she looked up, the datapad was slipped into her hands, her attention refocusing to it for a moment.

"House Rist is still advancing against the Death Watch. Additional Alderaanian Forces are also reinforcing House Rist."

Nodding as she flipped through the information, her eyes slipped over the numbers and the map of the area itself. Then she saw it, and hoped that at least those in command had seen it as well. With a heavy sigh as she leaned back against the table before setting the datapad down. She took a moment to look away before looking at it once more. There was an opening, a hole in the lines that while only the size of a squad could just as easily become a salient.

"Inform House Rist that they need to close this gap here at their far right flank."

"Ma'am."

"Have a company of the Order ready to be deployed in case things go sideways."

"And the House Syrush Guard ma'am?"

"They're still few in numbers. If need be we can move them here and have the Order take up their current defensive positions."

With a silent nod the individual slipped from the tent, and just as quickly she returned her focus to the fortress before her. Stepping out into the shaded forest, she hissed softly as she felt a beam of sun slip through and touch her cheek. Bearing the pain as she slipped into a shadow of a rather large pine tree, she shown no motion to cover the minor burn; or any outward pain.

For the most part the Mandalorians were a good thing for Alderaan, though still, for her having seen the world destroyed once before she knew that they needed to stand upon their own feet. It was a matter of getting the Royal House to see that as well. They could make all the allies they wanted, though what was Alderaan to those that cared little for it beyond using it as a staging point. If they Sith arrived would their allies be found, or would they conveniently forget about the world?

The thought was dug deep into her mind now, and she knew it would be difficult to convince the Royal House. After all the Princess was already enamored with a Mandalorian, that was plain to see. They didn't hide it as well as other lovers would; if they were even attempting to hide it. A heavy tsk slipped from the side of her mouth as she clenched her fist closed.

"Politics... I hate politics..."


[member="Faith Organa"]
[member="Draco Vereen"]
[member="Velos Rist"]

 

[Kur-gal Kwaad]

The big brutish thing was presently busy being a monkey swing for a host of Vong children. His flanges were pursed, his blazing eyes narrowed – narrowed, but tamed. With a long-suffering sigh, he leant against the pulsating hull of the vessel and cast a glance at one of the parents.

The Warrior evaded his gaze with the same deftness she would a projectile on a battlefield. Kur-gal grunted.

He had come to the hold on a Commander’s behest, to seek out those old enough for their first Escalation. If they succeeded, they would receive the mark of their caste. Either Tawakkal Jamaane was ignorant, or he chose to ignore the irony of his demand.

Casteless wretch, the Slayer echoed the words he so often caught just at the edge of hearing. Uttered in dark corners, when those mouths were sure he wasn’t listening.

One of the youngsters pulled on his horn and the towering creature backhanded her for the insolence. She landed with a yelp a metre or two away, already recovering with a roll over her shoulder.

Life in the limited confines of the fleet had made them weaker. Mellower. The once harsh repercussions had been reduced to a mere slap on the wrist. Between disease and undernourishment, they could ill-afford more losses. Even Escalation was becoming a mere shadow of its former self.

“Leash your brat,” he barked at the mother.

With a curled lip, the Huntress grabbed her spawn by the scruff of her neck. She delivered a stinging smack of her own, then scowled at the Dragon over her shoulder.

‘Remember your place’ she mouthed with teeth, then hauled her child through the door.

Kur-gal curtailed a vicious retort by slamming a fist into the wall at his back, flanges flaring.

My place!

He shook off the rest of the younglings with a single twist of his massive upper body. “Away with you!”

Taking his own advice, the Slayer stalked off, swearing retribution on the first creature that crossed his path.

[member="Khallesh"]

 

[Maximillian Price]

Objective: Two
Post: 1/35

Maximillian Price, Governor of Serenno, was escorted to the palace.

"Hello, everyone. I am Governor Maximillian Price of Serenno. I am here for the meeting of the Houses."

He informally shouted out to anyone who would listen.

He then walked up to a server.

"I will have a cup of Jawa juice, please. Non-alchoholic."

Then Maximillian heard all the Death Watch drama...

 

[Darth Banshee]

Objective: 1
Allies: [member="Velos Rist"] [member="Davon Karr"] [member="Ember Rekali"] @dilios @Brent Warnel
7/35

She began marching with her droids, as her fighter over head buzzed over. She could still hear Ember words ring in her ear, why did he spurn her so, what did she have to do to impress him, and prove she was loyal, marry him?
She still tears in her eyes, as she marched down towards the phrik mine that Death Watch had fortified.
This was poor tactic, as they had less flexible front, also less way to retreat if they failed.
She soon be there firing range with her droids, she did not care how many machines perished on the way down.
They could repaired or remade later, this gave the living mandalorains more a chance to live tomorrow.
As once she had secured the breech, then they would have easier time getting down into the fray.
Then Deathwatch opened up, her front line caved under there fire power, it mattered not.
They would be rebuilt, as long as she survived the day.
As next volley came up, she lite up her violet lightsaber and batted back some there fire power.
She pressed forward with her droids, getting slightly in front of them. To give them protection of her lightsaber.
Though they had some shielding as well, as durasteel plate.
Soon they would be able to return fire........

 

[Levy Willamina]

1/35
Objective 3

The sisters were moving, their attention on some of the things before hefted the newly upgraded rifles to their soldiers and switching the settings. Bolt shots to let the energy encased acid slugs work for what they needed to do. She could see Levy moving with the others while their full attention went to the meat of the caves they were heading into. Probes leading the way before the skyfall came into view with the caltrops launcher they could work with. She climbed into the passenger seat while Levy was getting into the driver and another into the gunner. All the sounds from inside coming up on the helmets systems before they started into the mouth going down. The new armor they were working on and setting up to replace some of the Chai La standards could prove useful for the guard armor. "lets go."

 

[Khallesh]

[member="Kur-gal Kwaad"]

It irked Khallesh greatly that she has to approach a jog to catch up to Kur-gal. Even then her stride length became uncomfortably long just to keep pace. She too had noticed the changes. Before Denon every warrior had been on edge. Since they had let loose on that world things had calmed down. The atmosphere almost seemed to reflect an acceptance of their new lot in life. Khallesh wasn't sure which she liked the least.

She slapped the front of her chest with her left hand. A relaxed, one handed and open palmed salute. A notification that there was business to be discussed between mutually respectful warriors.

"I am going to see the colony back on Alderaan. You may attend if you wish," Khallesh spoke in her typically blunt manner. She had no right to hand down orders to a member of another domain. "Or you may return to supervise Selea Kwaad's brats."

Selea Kwaad seemed to have taken up some form of rivalry with Khallesh. Certainly the manner in which her name was spoken conveyed how little love was lost between the pair. For once Khallesh hadn't even started this battle. She was of the same rank, a huntress and a different domain, but Selea seemed to have the opinion that being of the same gender made them natural rivals. Last time they had met in public she had - for reasons unknown own to Khallesh - bragged about the exploits of her spawn. Khallesh couldn't fathom why the Commander followed the progress of her children instead of just leaving them in the creche and getting on with war.

 

[Kur-gal Kwaad]

The person who happened to cross his path was the only one he’d think twice about venting at. One of two, to be precise, but then again, the other was dead. At a different time, Kur-gal might have smiled at the notion that the only people he respected this much were women.

“Commander,” he greeted the Huntress with a clipped growl. The incremental dip of his chin was all the deference he would show today.

“Selea Kwaad can go…” his voice slipped into harsh Basic, “[spread her legs for a battalion of infidel soldiers.]”

His service with the Parkeljni had imparted certain turns of phrase unto the Slayer despite his resistance. When he saw more Sith in a week than his own people in a month, Kur-gal was doomed to assimilate.

And the worst part was, he didn’t even care. After a while, the foul expressions and the blasphemous language came as easily as his own.

He’d heard the rumors, of course. That his kind had been Shaped from the flesh of the infidel sorcerers. That his blood was tainted for it. The castes certainly behaved that way, shunning them with zeal and violence until they needed their skills.

Scowling at nothing and everything, the Dragon measured [member="Khallesh"] with his burning gaze.

“I’ll go with you.”

And he brushed past the Warrior, towards the belly of the ship where they could commandeer a transport.

 

[Khallesh]

[member="Kur-gal Kwaad"]

There was a subtle twitch in her fingers at the manner in which he brushed past her. She pushed that sudden annoyance back down. Instead she checked over her shoulder. Khallesh was hardly careful with her words, but she had no time for being challenged by a Kwaad right now.

"[How do you think she ended up with so many spawn?]" Khallesh replied, unusually crass. Humour was probably wasted on the Slayer, she realised after.

She was in no mood for matching the Slayer's stride again, so she followed at her own pace. He seemed to be in the mood for storming off. Better to leave him to cool off and explain the situation on the transport than attempt to reason with him now.

 

[Kur-gal Kwaad]

Slayers didn’t chortle, and so Kur-gal didn’t.

But he came close.

So close, in fact, that he was still gasping for breath a few turns later. His throat had clamped painfully from the effort of keeping his laughter down. Hurt like an amphistaff up your ass.

Speaking from anecdotes, of course.

Soon enough, his long strides brought him to a stop beside a looming graft of Yorik-Coral, new and beautiful. She was still jerking slightly, oozing flesh and cooing at the Vong passing her by. The poor creature longed for a breath of fresh air.

Or at least fresh space, for now.

He heard [member="Khallesh"] approach, and his mandibles twitched upwards. Slow.

“Do you know how to guide one of these?” A question of courtesy, mostly. Of respect. Kur-gal knew full well how to bridle and ride a skipper, but rank demanded he offer the honor to the Commander.

Besides, he wanted to be the first to hit the ground running.

 

[Khallesh]

[member="Kur-gal Kwaad"]

"Best not, if you value your spine," Khallesh replied. She could pilot using a cognition hood, but landing had never been her strong point. There were only so many skills that could be mastered in life, even for a Warrior who focused all their efforts on making war for the moment they could walk.

Khallesh was a touch pleased with herself. She hadn't expected mirth, but then perhaps he had worked with Vrag Val and her cohort. Humour wasn't a common trait amongst their kind. Perhaps at the expense of a dying infidel, but not usually based on wit during conversation. Did this make her tainted? Had her meeting with Willard and time amongst the native Yuuzhan Vong damaged the essence of their kind, made her less?

Instead of concerning herself with such questions, she continued talking. "They are likely to have mingled somewhat with the humans. These are the cowards that bartered for their lives whilst the rest of our people died. However we need them more than they need us. We have slaves and a potential world to colonise, but they have the expertise and resources we need."

 

[Kur-gal Kwaad]

Whatever levity had arisen between them was gone in an instant. The marred features of his face hardened, and Kur-gal twisted away from @Khallesh. A heavy hand clasped the thick oral webbing across its flesh, clawed fingers curling to scratch at its side.

The vessel crooned and edged a bit closer to the two less than willing emissaries. Still, someone had to do it, and whether by choice or circumstance, the Dragon and the Huntress were among the most qualified. Insofar as ‘qualified’ meant ‘knowledgeable about infidel ways’.

It wasn’t the sort of thing any self-respecting child of Yun-Yuuzhan would brag about. But they needed their skills all the same.

His whole face soured, a bitter taste on his tongue. “Let’s go. I’ll ride.”

With two crisp taps on the hull, the Yorik dehisced, allowing them entrance. The Slayer managed to cram himself into the cognition hood despite his size, and by the time the belly of the mothership split along the seam to release them, Kur-gal was connected.

And it was odd, to have all these doubts and convictions vying for space in a single skull; he thought sometimes it would burst open like coral did. And when the hard, unwavering truth of faith was amplified by a thousand voices all crying out in time with his own, it was so easy to forget that he’d ever felt unsure.

He caressed one of the protrusions, and the vessel shuddered in giddy anticipation.

The next thing they knew, they were plunging into the Alderaan atmosphere, hull on fire.

And he could feel the delight of the Yorik-et right alongside his own.

 

[Khallesh]

[member="Kur-gal Kwaad"]

The Slayer had a deft touch despite his size, Khallesh noticed. They cut through the atmosphere at a precise angle and velocity to leave them sailing smoothly. Then again, she had already seen him in action. Perhaps not agile, but balanced and controlled.

Despite her bold claim to Jun Phaath she did not relish the notion of meeting him in combat. Not that Khallesh would ever baulk at the opportunity to meet a worthy foe in glorious combat, but putting down a subordinate who overstepped their bounds did not fall under that category to her. She would watch him carefully. If she had learned anything as a Hunter, it was that watching for weaknesses and ending an encounter with a surgical strike was far more efficient that a blind charge.

Down on the ground beneath them there was already a group from the Legion meeting members of the Alderaan colony. As Kur-gal set the ship down Khallesh checked that the cape signifying her rank was in place correctly. An annoying formal thing, the organic membrane fanned out behind her with the colours and patterns of her Domain and rank. It wasn't comfortable to wear either, small barbs hooking directly into her shoulder blades through gaps on her skin made during an escalation.

As she stepped out she found Prefect Ystrill Jamaane with three of his caste talking with the local dignitaries. They all wore robeskins that looked remarkably like infidel clothing.

"Try to keep your gaze at eye level," she murmured to Kur-gal, noting the rather spartan biots on the female Yuuzhan Vong.

"Ah Commander Khallesh Val," Ystrill announced before introducing the Alderaanians. It was notable that whilst the locals had warriors they were silent and kept back from proceedings. They were not introduced either. Jun had said their warrior caste was little more than a security and law enforcement group. But perhaps the notion that they did not take part in any decision making has not occurred to khallesh. The ranking Alderaan Indendant almost looked confused that Khallesh was even introduced. Another two transports were setting down behind them. Priests to smooth over discussions and Workers to ensure the details were managed, she imagined.

"We shall eat and then begin talks proper," Prefect Welk Induun of the local group announced.

"Fresh food?" Khallesh found herself asking before she could stop herself.

"Of course," the Indendant replied with a wry smile.

Khallesh turned towards the Slayer. Yuuzhan Vong didn't take great pleasure in eating, not like the hedonistic infidels. However, it had been a very long time since anything but artificially processed meals.

 

[Kur-gal Kwaad]

Oddly – or perhaps not so much – Kur-gal found himself yearning for a more eventful flight. The fleet was always on the move now, and so rarely did the Dragon have the opportunity to escape the tedium on the wings of Yorik. Luxuries like time and space were few and far in-between, and in moments of weakness, he wanted.

What, he couldn’t truly say. It was simply that this deep, burning longing flared up in his chest. It would sear the meat off his bones one day.

Not today, though.

Of course, nobody introduced the Slayer, and he was just fine with that. He did flinch slightly when [member="Khallesh"] spoke in his ear (his shoulder, rather), but she could not spoil this for him.

There was an unspoken rule about enjoyment of life and Yuuzhan Vong, but Kur-gal figured being a heretic just for existing, he might as well go the whole way. So he grinned at the bright sky and the light breeze and the faint smell of freshly cut grass. It wasn’t anything like Denon, with its shades of gray and loops of metal clenching the beating heart of the earth. This world was breathing, and smiling right back at the Dragon, with no foul machinery between them.

At the mention of food, his stomach flipped, and his orange eyes settled on the Intendant.

“Do you hunt?” he asked, curiosity lacing his flanged voice.

 

[Faith Organa]

Objective 2
Post 7
[member="Draco Vereen"]

"Fine then let us go and set up a command center and care for the wounded, I'm sure Tia is still somewhere and will be more than willing to be on hand. But I won't be sitting back here while everyone else is out there. So eat up, and let's get ready to go."

Once she had made up her mind there was no stopping her she would have her way.

She worked on finishing her breakfast, and nodded to Attrion when he excused himself. She knew that it would take many of the Vod to get use to the Alderaan nobles, they were afterall a direct conflict of view. Peace. War. She did not know how well this would work, it didn't mean they had to love each other and sing under rainbows, and drink wine each day. It mean mutual respect, it meant recognizes the need for help.

She looked at Draco again, "Is it difficult for you to take on some of the ways of Alderaan?" She knew concessions he made, but did they go against the very fiber of his being. After all he had been fighting his whole life

 

[Levy Willamina]

2/35

The jeep kept going in while the sisters were watching levy at the wheel, lights set up while the force was being channeled through the skyfall jeep creating a small pale blue glow. She could focus it and let the force energies hum and vibrate while the sensors were detecting some of the creatures and being from the planet. She wasn't certain what Levy was going to do when she turned down the one pathway rolling quickly over one of the bugs with the goo going on the windshield. She activated the wipers before the lights when there was the sound of skittering throughout. Some of the things to go and find deeper down brought her attention around the side switching the setting of the multipurpose rifle looking through the night vision firing off a shot while Levy moved the jeep into the tunnel.

 

[Khallesh]

[member="Kur-gal Kwaad"]

“Do I hunt?” the colonist asked, an amused expression on his face. “Not personally no, but we will have fresh meat later. “There are some hunting regulations on Alderaan now, but there are many I know who hold a license if you’d enjoy the sport. I'm sure they'd be happy to accommodate you.”

When the rest of the group arrived, both parties started heading into the settlement. Khallesh watched curiously as one of the minor functionaries started whispering to a youthful looking aide, occasionally glancing in their direction. Having exceptional eyesight from shaping and selective breeding to create an exceptional hunter was one thing, being astute enough to observe what was happening was quite another. The youth was send off and departed at a jog.

Much like Kur-gal, Khallesh was quite content to have her feet back on the ground. No artificial buildings here. The squat biological abodes of their kind surrounded them. The start differences between this and the settlement on Alderaan she’d once called home started to become apparent. They were all colours of robeskin, shaped to match infidel clothing. She didn’t know it was specifically styled to match alderaan customs. Then she started to see them. The odd soft, pink face. Humans amongst them, walking between the buildings as if they belonged.

The group turned into a grashal with lush vurruk carpet. Khallesh now wished she could have come in a robeskin and in bare feet, just to feel it between her toes. That was a pathetic thought, she decided. A warrior wore armour. There weren’t many warriors here. Two had guarded the entrance to this grashal, perhaps one or two walking the streets. And when she’d gone to eat with Willard she’d been reasonably content in a simple robeskin.

The youth who had run off returned with a rather portly Warrior, perhaps in his late hundreds. “Aha, Commander Stuun,” Prefect Welk said. The Commander stepped forwards and offered his hand. Fortunately Khallesh had been introduced to this gesture before, back when she had visited one of the Akure offices. It didn’t take much of a stretch to realise that once the locals had realised the fleet had sent warriors as part of their group that they had decided to do likewise. Khallesh glanced in Kur-gal’s direction. Perhaps she should be pleased the locals were trying to accommodate them, but it was hard to do so when her equivalent was a glorified, rotund police chief, not a battlefield warrior of note.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Objective: Command Center
[Post 8]

[member="Faith Organa"]

Draco smiled, finishing his breakfast. He knew there were people fighting and he couldn't be everywhere at once, couldn't do everything at once. She knew that, they knew that, but he still didn't like being cooped up in a palace while there was some help he could be doing for the planet he had taken an interest in. Especially when it was his vod fighting to defend the planet he had such an interest in.

"Okay, I'll make sure that we are able to, and we will have some support for my people. I think we will be fine." The other Mandalorian wandered off and Faith had taken an interest in helping against the Death Watch. There were a few noble's dragging in around the palace, though others were responding to the Death Watch presence on Alderaan.

The man sighed at her question, the query rumbling around in his mind. He didn't like or enjoy everything. He didn't mind some of the changes, and he had never disliked living a little higher up the pay scale. "I've never minded peace. Its never bothered me to take some time to myself. I don't like all the rules and politics that come with being a nobleman, but I manage most of it. I'm just not meant to run off and be a pillar of society." He smiled at her. Soon he would need to find something for him, a corner on the world where he could belong. Something to do with the military or the defense of the planet. Something were the nobility wasn't his everyday companion.

 

[Kur-gal Kwaad]

His mouth kept working, but no sound came out.

Hunting regulations? Sport?!

Kur-gal clamped his jaw shut with an audible gnash of teeth, fists still clenched at his sides. Nobody in a ten metre radius would need selectively bred eyesight so see how deeply disturbed the giant was. If he weren’t so massive, the occasional twitching of his mandibles might’ve been amusing. It was alarming instead.

Still, for better or for worse, the Slayer trailed after the motley crew of a delegation. He was much more proficient in splitting heads than analyzing what went on inside them, but even he could tell how tense the atmosphere grew when [member="Khallesh"] reached out to squeeze Stuun’s hand.

It was no wonder, really. While these machine-loving infidel huggers had grown fat and lazy in their heresy, the Yun’Do had fought and bled for the glory of the Gods.

A vein pulsed on his forehead, and Kur-gal dug his claws into the fleshy wetness of the wall to try and cool his anger.

His doubts began to ebb and weaken as he watched their decline in prowess and strength. The ‘Commander’ of this colony wouldn’t have been fit to be a Shamed One back on Selvaris, and by Yammka, the hunting. It was all nearly too much.

“So you’re… settled peacefully with the humans?” he managed to force out. “You obey their laws? Their regulations?”