Last Watch - The Mandalorian Dominion of Agamar Hex [Cathar and Ord Cestus]

[Melina Tervho]

Objective 6: Blood Hunt
Allies: [member="Davon Karr"] | [member="Draco Vereen"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Caspian Rekali"] | Cathars
Post: 1

Melina didn't really care for bugs, or beetles, be it small ones scurrying across the cottage floor or giant ones that could clear wide swaths of ground with little effort. She had agreed to come on this excursion to Cathar at the behest of her Aunt Shae, the Aliit'alor of Clan Tervho. While the clan leader was greeting others at a city tree to pay their respects to a revered Jedi warrior, Melina had been volun-told that she would be accompanying the blood hunt.

Not something Mel would have chosen, but then again, it was right up her alley. No need for a suit of beskar'gam on this trip, and she didn't own one. No ritual or rote, just ruthless efficiency in liquidating the prey. That she could most certainly do. She had a machete on her back, and a pair of modded DC-17's on her hips. There were shorter knives on her somewhere but against the chitin of the bugs, they were liable to be useless.

She didn't know anyone here with her personally, although the names and faces were familiar at least from talk in Keldabe or even up in Rikatal. Long winter nights in the only cantina in town make for retold glories and she had heard of their exploits. Whether there was truth to them or not was another story.

Shae wanted Melina to come back to her people, to relearn the path of the Resol'nare from her family. Mel couldn't do it. She couldn't look them in the eye yet. They loved her, they would accept her no matter how much the blood on her would not wash away. They would be easy on her and she felt that she would not truly earn her forgiveness or her place as a Mandalorian again from them. So she worked for other clans, and she accepted the direction of Shae when it was appropriate.

She moved now unimpeded with the Cathars but she could not keep up with them as they made for the hive entrance. This would require cunning or the leonine warriors would clear out the nest and be done with it before the small contingent of Mandalorians even got down to where the kiltiks were living.

 

[Ra Vizsla]

Objective 8: Envoy

Allies: [member="Dariak Talesa"] [member="50H31"] [member="Hark Vizsla"] [member="Jaiyn Viszla"]
Post: 1


Ra found himself in an unusual place, but unusual places were his forte on his pilgrimage. The Gurlanin Vizsla, adopted by the Mandalorian clan many moons ago, had been wandering the outskirts of the Core in an attempt to return back to Mandalorian space. It appears he was nearing the borders of fringe Clan space, as their were many flags with many Clans' insignia displayed upon the city proper of Freehold. There were many others, however - this seemed to be a trading hub of sorts, another galactic junkyard. Dust in the wind whipped at his face as the gigantic humanoid made his way past many stares, carving through the parting crowd and towards the center of Freehold.

He was joined by two of his clan mates, [member="Hark Vizsla"] and [member="Jaiyn Viszla"], as they had only recently met through their travels. They had been silent, for most of the journey, though it had not been long that they were together. The only adventure the three had met before then was figuring out that the decrepit shuttle Ra had been using for shuttle was out of fuel cells, and they were here to pilfer more. Very few coins were to the group's name. Ra looked upon a figure sporting Mandalorian insignia on his cowl in the distance, his pace picking up as he approached a familiar face.

"Excuse me," the porcelain skinned polymorphic humanoid bellowed in the direction of the stranger ([member="Dariak Talesa"]), "Might we get directions to the Bazaar? We appear to be lost."

 

[Dariak Talesa]

Objective 8: Envoy
[member="Ra Vizsla"] | [member="50H31"] | [member="Hark Vizsla"] | [member="Jaiyn Viszla"]

Being part of an envoy was a strange experience for Dariak and somehow he wondered if the marshals had got it right. The Crusader was better suited to fighting in cities rather than being a guest in one. The idea of sweet talking a planet into becoming part of Mandalorian space seemed insulting to the man and he had a sulking expression etched on his face. Dariak had wandered around the city and in a state of daydreaming wondered how it would be to do as the warriors of old would have done; descended from their ships to do battle with the defenders of the world for glory, honour and riches.

His dreaming state had been disturbed by a sudden shouting and he turned to the source of the noise before he tiled his head. Dariak had his helmet secured on his belt and so his tanned, scarred features were open for all to see. His green eyes blinked as he ran a hand over the strip of blonde hair that ran from the front to the back of his head. "Still getting my bearings myself." He replied in his thick Concordian accent. "But I'm sure if we travel together we'll figure out this place. Find a map. Tourist stop."

 

[Hark Vizsla]

[ 01 ]

Hark was new to all this Mandalorian thing. He'd just been adopted to the Clan Vizsla, one of the few major historic clans of the society and this was his real first adventure with the rest of the people. He was there with his brothers -- he barely knew them, so he had nothing to talk with them. That, of course, meant the journey would go in silence.

Silence was actually a good thing. Hark loved these moments, using them for tinkering on his armour or other equipment, as well as just flipping through some books or newspapers. He loved silence, but he was definitely not the one to get molded in it like many other people were.

What he did enjoy was the fact that these people didn't seem to bother silence. They did their own things, lived their own lives. Maybe they were not very talkative, maybe they just didn't feel comfortable talking even though they would have wanted to.

Whatever the reason was, they were in silence for most of the trip.

When out of the ship, Hark would hold close to his clan mates, thinking he would provide safety for them, just like they would defend him. But that was hardly the true reason why he tried not to wander far away from them. Honestly, he knew Mandalorians were able to protect themselves -- he just wanted to feel secure.

[ [member="Ra Vizsla"] | [member="Dariak Talesa"] | [member="50H31"] | [member="Jaiyn Viszla"] ]​

 

[Thema Ascapa]

[member="Dariak Talesa"] [member="Ra Vizsla"] [member="Hark Vizsla"] [member="50H31"]

Had Jaiyn's helmet not been soundproof, he would have been ridiculed. Fortunately, he'd taken that precaution years ago.

Still humming the tune to a Correlian jatz song he walked alongside the duo. Not very badassy or Mandalorian of him, but singing was a habit he'd developed along with his interest for reading. It eased his mind, and distracted him. A distraction was an essential, it seemed, when teamed with his current companions. Over the past few hours he'd tried figuring them out- How they walked, talked, moved, anything. Unfortunately, Jaiyn couldn't crack the mysterious Mandalorians. 'Oh well.' he thought to himself, mentally shrugging. 'might learn something later.'

Unfortunately, his thoughts (and song) were broken by the sound of the old man's gruff, rugged voice. Stopping besides him, he look a good, intimidating glare at his fellow Mando, before confirming him to not be a threat, and relaxing. Cracking a grin from under his helmet, he clapped his hands together, and turned towards their taller, older leader. "Looks like you've got yourself quite a team of tourists, old man." He joked lightheartedly, before turning back towards Dariak. "Nice meeting another Mandalorian." He greeted him, extending a gloved hand towards their new potential-companion. "Jaiyn. Clan Viszla."

 

[Dariak Talesa]

[member="Ra Vizsla"] | [member="50H31"] | [member="Hark Vizsla"] | [member="Jaiyn Viszla"]

Instead of reaching for Jaiyn's hand Dariak reached forward to grasp the other Mandalorian's wrist in a firm fashion before releasing. "Su cuy'gar, vode." he said happily to the figures in front of him. "I'm Dariak Talesa of Clan Rikat. Seems like we've been shunted into playing nice with the locals. Hopefully that means plenty drinks. Or solving one of their problems." At the last part Dariak gestured to the DC-17 rifle that hung against his armour in a sling with a grin. At least he wouldn't be playing nice alone. The idea of being the perfect guest as a solo run seemed draining. So much so not even his Crusader faith could have sustained him.

However now that he had found a band of kinsmen to explore the city with made Dariak feel like things were looking up. Solitude was not a concept he was used to or enjoyed. While Jaiyn had introduced himself from another clan he was still Mandalorian and the knowledge that someone else with that common bond was enough to ease his tensions and concerns.

 

[Ra Vizsla]

Objective 8: Envoy

Allies: @Dariak Talesa @50H31 @Hark Vizsla @Jaiyn Viszla
Post: 2

"Su cuy'gar, Talesa of Aliit Rikat." Ra returned in greeting while releasing the man's wrist. The Mando'a language flowed with ease off the elder's tongue. "Drinking is of interest, as there seems to be nowhere to go in this flat. We are marooned, vod. My vessel is several kliks south of here and without gas to push on." Ra glanced back at his two clan mates, then back at Dariak. The elder Mandalorian knew enough of the Galaxy to not trust the first stranger one would meet, but Dariak's appearance could mean a United Clans presence here on the planet. This would be fortuitous news for the trio of Vizslas'.

"Let us stop for drinks, then. Perhaps this day's events will find us, instead."

He looked again to Jaiyn and Hark.

"Do we have the credits?"

 

[Anija Betna]

Objective 4/5
Location: High Orbit
Allies: United Clans; [member="Ember Rekali"]; [member="Sabine Kurtass"]; [member="Arrbi Betna"]
Enemies: Death Watch and allies | [member="Ebon"]
Post: 9
Anija stared at her sensor plot, her eyes narrowed in disbelief. Nothing could have predicted this turn of events. Primeval. The thought sent a cold shiver down her spine for a moment before she gathered herself. yes, they'd lost Wayland to the forces of the Primeval last year. And in the months since, they'd lost even more to the incursion by Death Watch forces. Slowly, the United Clans had began to push back the Kyr'tsad. And yet, pockets of the group still remained.

She frowned then as she saw a new set of blips resolve on her sensor plot. And then she smiled. The IFF transponders identified the new ships as those of Arrbi Betna and a wing of Protector Beskad class fighters. A deep breath to steady herself as she studied the plot once more. Sabine's efforts seemed to be slowly hammering away at one of the larger ships, though there were still plenty of smaller craft running amok. With the arrival of Arrbi and his pilots, hopefully that would change. As she contemplated the sensor plot some more, she sent orders for her own pilots to engage at will and to coordinate with the Protector wing.

 

[Thema Ascapa]

[member="Ra Vizsla"] [member="Dariak Talesa"] [member="Hark Vizsla"] [member="50H31"]

Another round of silence from Jaiyn as he tried recalling just what loose change he had. Honestly? It wasn't much. In his pocket was the jingle of maybe thirty credits, give or take. "Hate to break it to you, but we aren't exactly rich, Ra." He said, dreading the obvious. "But what am I saying-" he gestured towards their acquaintance. "Wherever there's one Mandalorian, there are more just nearby. And whenever there are Mandalorians and bars, there are drunk, friendly Mandalorians. Maybe we can join in on them, get them to buy us a round. After all-" He looked back up at the wolf-man, counting his armour's battle marks. "I hear you're famous, ruug'la verd. They'll talk to us one way or another."

He sighed, looking off beyond the little group. "Worst case scenario, we get nothing but merc work. Even so, not that bad. Useful to get to know the area."

 

[Dariak Talesa]

[member="Ra Vizsla"] | [member="50H31"] | [member="Hark Vizsla"] | [member="Jaiyn Viszla"]

Dariak watched as they talked among themselves. He folded his arms and gave a small shrug of his pelt-covered shoulders as the idea of grabbing a drink seemed to take hold. He considered Jaiyn a little with his emerald eyes as he ran a thumb along his own chin as if searching for an itch. "Merc work isn't bad for the credit account but it's a poor piece for the soul. Would much rather be unleashed upon a world than paid to guard someone. Or fix someone's problem when they're too pathetic to fix it themselves. But then on the other hand....everyone has to eat."

He then took out a small pouch and jangled it around. Dariak opened it up and pulled out a thick peggat coin which gleamed cold with various Huttese symbols etched beautifully around the circumference. The Crusader tossed it towards Jaiyn and Ra for one of them to catch it. "I'm sure they'll take Hutt coin. Never know. Maybe they'll sell food. A nice roasted piece of meat always goes down well with mead or ale! Ah it'll be nothing like back in the heartworlds but maybe, just maybe, if we swing them to us we can teach them how to cook."

 

[Jorga the Hutt]

Death Watch tended to get into everything these days. Oh, they had a point sometimes - in some ways this might be the most passive era in Mando history - but they were pests. Vermin at best, terrorists at worst. Simplified, worthless ideology; no goals of any value; no principles apart from a common hatred of the status quo. Chaotic stupid - that was the term. So when Connory encountered Death Watch, like this fire team on a station off Ord Cestus, he didn't try talking. As a wise man once said, you can't fix stupid, no matter how much you try.

His weapon of choice today constituted a persuasive argument: an old ten-gauge semi-automatic that predated d Death Watch assault on Keldabe. Not much beat a shotgun in the corridors of a space station.

 

[Thema Ascapa]

[member="Dariak Talesa"]

Jaiyn caught the token of carved metal, thin gloves running over the chiseled surface instinctively. Even without Dariak's explanation, he could recall the imagery on the front. "Where'd you get a Huttese coin?" he asked, with polite surprise in his tone. The answer was obvious- Merc work. It wasn't rare for a Mandalorian to work for a Hutt, and he looked like no stranger to taking bounties. Jamming the coin back in his pocket with the Republican credits, his eyes casually went for the coin purse, interested in it's contents. He was no thief, but you could tell a lot from the contents of a man's purse. He could only hope Dariak didn't follow the same mentality- Jaiyn was broke. All he had was the armour on his back, and his blaster.

 

[Jorga the Hutt]

Rel paused to catch his breath, leaning against a bulkhead. Through his T-visor and a viewport, he took a long look at the curve of Ord Cestus below the station. What, he wondered, was so special about this world that the Death Watch was interested? Or did they just believe that all the territory in these sectors was part of some zero-sum game, where anything taken was a loss to the UCM? That kind of myopia, that kind of reactionary self-definition, certainly jived with what he knew of the Death Watch's modern incarnations. Then again, the UCM had its own history of taking lots of things and then not knowing what to do with them, a halfhearted, noncommittal throwback to the days of the Neo-Crusaders. Before he could judge others, of course, he had to figure out exactly where he stood on the issues, the traditions -- and not just as a knee-jerk reaction against the Death Watch dogma. For that, he had his shotgun. That would have to be enough.

Because he genuinely could see their point sometimes. Oh, their methods ranged from stupid to deplorable, but the Death Watch operated by two principles above all: the other Mandalorians are passive, and Mandalorians only understand one kind of persuasion. Both principles happened to be true.

 

[Dariak Talesa]

[member="Ra Vizsla"] | [member="50H31"] | [member="Hark Vizsla"] | [member="Jaiyn Viszla"]

Objective 8: Envoy

"Y'know the problem with mercenaries and bounty hunters?" asked Dariak with a smile. "The attitude. Big paydays are the worst. They've got their fifth bottle in one hand and a skinny Twi'lek girl in the other. Just living the dream. I mean if you got paid fat golden coins after frying some poor bastard you'd feel on top of the world right? Like you could take anything or anyone on? Well one of them figured I was in his spot at the bar on some shitehole. Nar Shaddaa I think?"

Dariak smiled as he looked around the nearby buildings for a place to eat and drink. So far there wasn't much choice from where he stood and so figured that if he attached himself to the group more eyes would be better. "I argued the point. So much so he...didn't need the pay."

 

[Hark Vizsla]

[ 02 ]

Hark was not used to randomly bumping into people and acting as if they were friends. There was no way he could get used to it, having been raised so that he wouldn't annoy people or become friends with everybody. His distrust levels were high and even though the man, Dariak Talesa of Aliit Rikat, was a Mandalorian, he found there to be no reason to trust him.

Vizslas barely had money, all three of them knew that. Hark guessed Ra's question was not to actually learn if they had money, but more so that Dariak would provide them some. A clever move, the man thought.

Huttese coins were not a real source of confusion or of admiration to the young Mandalorian -- he'd seen them, he'd paid in them in the past. But the thought of working with these fat karkers was just too much for him. He wouldn't do that himself, nor would he like to be paid in their coins for the work he'd done.

He had to note, going mercenary was a really good idea to him. He'd not been a Mandalorian for long, but he'd been a Republic soldier, so he must have had some skills in fighting. And if he could utilise them to get money, it was like dream come true.

Silence was great, though. He liked how he didn't have to talk to strangers whom he didn't trust. Maybe it would change with time, maybe not.

[ [member="Dariak Talesa"] | [member="Jaiyn Viszla"] | [member="50H31"] | [member="Ra Vizsla"] ]​

 

[Ra Vizsla]

Objective 8: Envoy

Allies: [member="Dariak Talesa"] [member="50H31"] [member="Hark Vizsla"] [member="Jaiyn Viszla"]
Post: 3

"Work would provide the quickest compensation," Ra interrupted the friendly banter. "And would provide us the quickest path towards progression."

"There," he said, nodding forward. They were apparently approaching the bazaar - the crowds were getting thicker and the lights were getting brighter. Dusk was falling on the planet, and the time was ripe for the night life to begin appearing with all of its villainy and scum in tow. There were no greater hives of such than the local cantinas - and the largest in their area stood directly before them, as if fate or some magical hand had directed them here. "The Desert Rose. In Twi'lek. How very cliche of them. Come, let us eat and drink. Perhaps we'll find our work here."

Ra began to shoulder past a Gamorrean who was equal in size to the polymorphic Gurlanin when the pig-headed creature appeared to take offense. "Hnnng! Hoing Gin Gon!" it shouted in Ra's direction, obviously highly agitated and disturbed. Two of his Gamorrean friends appeared to join him, and heads in the crowd began to turn. The larger Vizsla stopped, turning his head.

"Apologies, friend. I did not see you."

The Gamorrean shouted something indistinguishable.

"No, I'm afraid you don't know me, and if you don't mind we'll be on our way."

A blaster made it's way out of the crowd. Too many bodies were moving too fast, and only the screams were heard before three blaster bolts rang out. The behemoth of a man Ra moved forward and decked the Gamorrean in the face, landing him on his stomach as the other two moved to attack the Vizsla's and their newly found compatriot.

"A little help here," Ra bellowed.

 

[Darth Banshee]

Objective: 4
Allies: [member="Anija Betna"] [member="Ember Rekali"] [member="Arrbi Betna"]
Enemy: Death watch [member="Ebon"]
Post: 5

Her ship kept on firing at the deathwatch ship, but for every shot she hit it with, it her as well. As the shots hit, the ship buckled and swayed under the impacts. Then thrusts kicked in, and the thrusts the ship back into position, so could fire again. The damage control teams where running around, keeping the ship from breaching. Where a breach was iminate they shut sections down, so it would not have more damage due to sudden decompression. The teams the tried to fix it in space suits, as they need the ship keep going. She watched from the bridge as another volley from her ship, hit the enemy she kept hoping it would begin to break, but there shields where still holding. So where hers, but as always minor breaches where inevitable.

As her her volley set off, she saw one coming right back her. She braced herself for impact again, her hands gripped the seat she was in. As the ship was hit again, she shaken out of her seat. The was nothing she could do, it just a slugging match now and she knew it.......

 

[Hark Vizsla]

[ 03 ]

It was time to act fast now. The attack had come as a surprise, mainly because he hadn't expected these people to be all so aggressive. He himself would have just moved on after getting bumped into. Well, maybe he would have muttered a simple 'meh', but he would have definitely not engaged in a fight. Was a foolish thing to do in his opinion, as an ex-soldier.

However, he could tell it was about defending one's honour or something. These people really seemed to enjoy this stuff.

"On it," Hark said, taking his blaster out. He wouldn't want to use any crazier weapons yet (not like he would have any), mainly so that the situation wouldn't turn into a mess full of blood, panic, smoke and trouble.

He was about to shoot at one of the Gamorreans, but then he realised he was too close to him. It was time to engage in a little fist fight. Not that he could to a lot of damage this way, because he was taught how to use firearms, not his bare fists in battle, but at least he could keep the man from attacking others.

He would punch the huge pig in the stomach and then hit his head with his knuckles. Thank goodness Hark had gloves on.

Otherwise it would have been a huge mess.

[ [member="Dariak Talesa"] | [member="Jaiyn Viszla"] | [member="50H31"] | [member="Ra Vizsla"] ]​

 

[Thema Ascapa]

[member="Ra Vizsla"] [member="Hark Vizsla"] [member="Dariak Talesa"]

"I sure hope the Twi'lek have good cooking..." Jaiyn mumbled, making his way into the establishment, behind their more seasoned leader. Even from under his helmet, he could tell the place smelled of alcohol, urine, blood, and burning spices. All things considered, it was a relief they hadn't walked into a Mos Eisley lookalike.

His eyes locked onto the pig-headed alien even before Ra brushed past him. Big... Drunk, and clearly a threat. In a matter of seconds, the wall of squealing fur started complaining, and eventually, exploded into conflict.

He reacted a split-second after Ra started charging. Hark, of course, was going for the closest threat. That left him with the one in the middle. Similarly to him, he'd been the last to react. But now? The alien's fist was on a collision course with the side of his helmet. He had a funny feeling that wouldn't feel very good.

So, naturally, he let instinct kick in. His hands moved for the Gamorrean's face, yanking it down for him to slam his armoured forehead into the bridge of his squashed in nose. Doing so, the punch knocked him back, sending him staggering for a few seconds. But that didn't matter much- He had distance, and time to spare.

Drawing the blaster from his holster, Jaiyn fired a shot at the man's chest, and watched him fall, writhing in pain.

 

[Jorga the Hutt]

A Vornskr Mark Eight semi-auto scattergun had a powerful kick; it was nearly a range queen in some ways, and it made Rel glad for his helmet's ear protection. One of the Death Watch fighters in the corridor wasn't so lucky; Rel watched him flinch. Rel had shattered the other man's T-visor in an earlier stage of the fight, and the kyr'tsad had removed his buy'ce. With a flinch of his own, some artifact from Jukre conditioning or years or pacifism, Rel turned the Vornskr Mark Eight on the kyr'tsad and fired again. His aim was off, but buckshot tore through the man's cheek and spun him around. Part of him was glad he hadn't blown the man's head off. Part of him was frustrated that more needed to be done -- and that he'd hesitated, flinched, missed. With a growl, Rel stepped forward and rammed the scattergun's stock into the Death Watch commando's undamaged cheek. In a frozen moment, he saw a pale face, dark stubble, a receding hairline, a scar across the bridge of an oft-broken nose, a stud in the ear-

The kyr'tsad's head snapped back and stayed that way.