Mandalorian Dominion of Myrkr

[Naimes Ahn-Dross]

Black Site
Establish perimeter. Direct reinforcements. Attempt contact with Hyllyard City

​

...Naimes waited but when a response from Field Marshal Garon wasn't forthcoming he could only assume that the commander was engrossed in his own activities and that he would need to direct the Mandalorians under his direction as he saw fit. The Black Site had fallen under their control. No casualties and minimal wounds. The Drop Ship remained powered so that it could ferry troops from this position to another while reports from the others that had descended onto Myrkr alongside Naimes began reporting in. Initial reports were primarily successful however one of the Drop Ships had come under heavy fire and crashed in the jungles of Myrkr were insurgants from the prison were opening fire on them. Not good news at all...

..."Relay their position to reinforcements."...was the command Naimes gave to the radio operator who promptly carried out the command. Within moments one of the remaining two Drop Shits had rerouted so that it could lay down some suppressive fire on the coordinates provided to it while its soldiers rappelled down to the surface of the jungle to engage the hostiles on a second front. Naimes was satisifed and issued subsequent commands when the lead of the squadron he'd been commanding returned to him..."Establish a perimeter around this site. No one engages hostiles unless they recive confirmation from me."...the Mandalorian lead would offer a confirmation and then move off to tell the others. Around now Naimes started to contemplate his next move quietly while lifting Longtooth back over his shoulder and sheathing it across his back...

...there was more. Another Drop Ship arrived at Naimes site and set down before unloading another squadron of soldiers to help establish the perimeter around the Black Site. Dead hostiles were piled so that they didn't become an obstacle and captives were held under guard by a group of three soldiers. Everything appeared as though it was going to plan. A Command Tent was erected where Naimes took shelter while reviewing reports of the area that detailed where small skirmishes had broken out. All the main fighting seemed contained at the location of the Black Site Prison and with the Inmates there which put it well out of the way; Naimes did consider going to help and involve his men in the battle however using the resources afforded to him here was also a priority...

...jacking into the comms Naimes would attempt to establish contact with Hyllyard City..."Any friendlies read me?"...a pause..."This is Rally Master Naimes Ahn-Dross. What is the status of the city. What does hostile activity look like?"...he could only wait to see if he heard a response. No response would mean that communications had been knocked out or that there was still, likely, heavy fighting taking place. Either circumstance not completely ideal...​

 

[Cennika Hawk]

Location: Hyllyard City
Companions: Ereth, a boy of six.
Other Contacts: [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"]

Soon enough, the boy had even invited her to sit with him, and she'd gladly taken up the offer, taking out a modest piece of jerky for herself. They sat in relative silence, chewing, until he decided he was thirsty and invited her to come in while he got himself a glass of water and even offered her one. She gave him thanks, and again things were silent between them until it occurred to her that she had other questions to ask.

"Your mother and father - what do they do?"

Ereth drank and swallowed, but seemed to need to think about it, or the grief of having seen his parents disappear before his eyes made the response difficult. He drank more of the water, allowing the silence to well up before finally replying.

'Daddy's a clothes maker, and he does armours of sorts, too. Mostly repairs of that. Momma...'

He took another long drink. Another few minutes while he blinked rapidly and mustered up more words.

'...momma's the sherriff, and...'

Then there was a crackling, a loud crackling. Ereth jumped up, and whipped around the corner, out of the kitchen and scrambled for the other end of the structure, and she pursued him. It was clear this was where the sherriff's station was. A voice came through, and when she walked in, Ereth looked sad.

'It's not momma. Not daddy. Not anyone I know,' he looked over his shoulder at her, 'momma doesn't let me mess with the comms. Says they're for the adults.'

She walked up behind him, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, keeping in mind the words she had heard come through loud and clear while she was coming down the hall.

"May I? How does it work?"

At that, Ereth seemed to light up. Being made useful often did wonders for many people.

'Well, you press that button there, and you talk. Then you don't press it when you don't talk.'

She nodded, understanding, and sat in the chair at the console, gave Ereth a smile, and turned to pressed the button.

"Rally Master Naimes Ahn-Dross," she said with the button depressed, her Dathomiri accent a little less dry after the welcome glass of water, "I am Cennika Hawk of... the Singing Mountain Clan. It is... like a city of windy ghosts and settled dust in Hyllyard. What few people remain are afraid of whatever it is that has made so many disappear, but of hostile people I have seen nothing."

 

[Anastasia Rade]

Instead of going to the front of the prison where others were headed Ana went to the back. She was pretty sure that the woman would be able to find something back here trying to crawl away. Ana was also aware of the back entrance. If she was a prisoner trying to escape, she had been, Ana would head out the back doors.

Rifle raised she cautiously made her way to the back of the building which she found yet again to be crickets but the backside of the door showed little blood spatters. There was most definitely something there or at least something had been there.

Normally she would have had a team right being her or on her side but this time because she had been walking with Strider Ana was working solo. It wasn't ideal however she had done this before and if she needed backup well she would just nuke the place and be done with it, maybe.

Opening the door she glanced around her to ensure the coast was clear before stepping inside. Once she found it was she took a step inside and headed to where she knew the control room was to go access the damages. Hopefully those computer screens still worked and were up.

 

[Revenchent]

Akala.

The Void had been an off place. Why Calico knew the name of the empty wasteland he had inhabited, he had no idea. What he did know was that touching one of the Mando'ade there had turned the galaxy upside down. For a moment, he had spoken with Galaar. For a moment, he had seen his two children standing alone against a horde of monstrosities that could only hold a candle to Sithspawn.

Why he was here now, he did not know.

A prison of some sorts, it seemed. Far from his children, and far from his people. he had seen Akala, as had Canal, the schutta that had once drawn the entire Dreadguard Legion into her realm, and led them to her deaths. Whatever she was, Cal would find out, but not now.

He hovered over the body of...something. It might have been human, but it was too disfigured to tell. Its rib cage was wrenched open, and where the lungs should have been was only black ooze. A cauterized stump was all the remained of its head and neck, its legs were in a similar shape. the black ooze coated Calico's gloves and dried blood stained his forearms. He was on his knees, hovering over the anonymous corpse in what he knew was a prison, and he ad no idea why he knew such.

"Shab..." He hissed under his breath. He tried to stand, and stumbled into a metal bed built into the side of the small room. His helmet was gone, but his weapons remained. A quick check of his vitals confirmed that he was in pristine condition.

So what in Corellia's Nine Hells had happened?


[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

[member="Nolan Detta"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

[member="Dredge"] made Preliat Mantis, The Wolf, cry out in pain. The singing, burning pain of the heated blade and the combination of the fresh attack on the open wound meant that Preliat buckled under the pain. The punch hurt. His insides screamed, nerve endings flaring with signals to his brain. He looked up at Dredge, falling to a collapsed knee. His body buckled, and the wolf leaned forward, heaving in pain, but not exhaustion. Preliat spit blood outward from his mouth, and defiantly looked up at Dredge.


He imagined, that somewhere, Aditya was telling him all the problems he was facing, as he stood up slowly, grasping the fallen tomahawk.


"Internal bleeding..."

He moved his knee upwards, rising quickly.

"Might have shattered a rib or two..."

He grasped the handle of the tomahawk tightly.

"Heck, you probably could have some serious damage to some of your organs..."

Preliat ignored the voice of his wife in his head. She was not to be the voice of doubt, but of hope. Dredge was in the way of securing her back from wherever she had gone to, with the rest. Preliat lunged at Dredge, from the ground. He swung his Tomahawk- right at the beast's neck. It would not take off his head, not from this angle. But it would hopefully, tear far enough to his neck that Dredge would not have hope to breathe a moment longer.

"Not yet, Dredge."

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Location: Myrkr Prison
Allies: [member="Strider Garon"] | [member="Anastasia Rade"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Captain Larraq"] | [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] | [member="Nolan Detta"] | [member="Zandra Tal'verda"] | [member="Ordo"]
Unknown: [member="Cennika Hawk"]
Enemies: [member="Dredge"]

Striding down the secondary hallway, Shywooshk spied [member="Zandra Tal'verda"] and whuffed and growled, waving her over. The more in his squad before he even thought about attempting the secure max, the better. And this woman moved with something above even the average mando'ade, something stronger. Smiling just slightly, Shywooshk checked the ammo counter on his bowcaster and began to move forward without even checking to see if she followed. She would, or she would. Mandalorians lead by example and suggestion, and didn't need to beat on their chest and puff their titles out to show authority.

Igniting his lightsaber, he slid into a graceful, if shallow, approximation of Ataru as he spun against someone who arced lightning from his fingertips at him. The bowcaster clacked to the ground forgotten for the moment as the wookie growled and advanced. Apparently there was actual resistance organizing now, not just pockets of random prisoners.

 

[Strider Garon]

Strider watched as his rocket get peppered out of the sky with precision fire. "Frak!" The old man snarled at the failed attempt to obliterate the vong with a single shot went down the tube. Worse yet was that Strider was not out of range of thread for he very volley that had knocked out his rocket was in inherently aimed at his general direction. Like a fowl in hunting season the mandalorian was clipped with bullets, his armor absorbing the impact best as it could but the kinetic energy was still enough to ground him hard.

Strider had sense enough to disengage his jetpack just moments before he hit the ground which helped to limit the tumble and skid. Still hard impact upon ground and the bullets that had riddled his chest plate and helmet was enough to knock the wind out form his sails and concuss the Senior warrior.

Simple things that can turn the tide. The vong was winning and Strider could see the Bio readout of Preliat's vitals upon his own visor. Even if he didn't have such electronic connection to his fellow brethern he would be able to see with the naked eye that the savage was hurting and in extreme trouble. Yet, the younger warrior had enough grit to pull himself together and keep the fight up.

"Get up!" Strider would growl his self motivation. In truth if he didn't make more of hustle to get to his feet and they survived this encounter the younger of them would never let him down and Strider would rather accept death at the vong's hand then be viewed as outdated. "GET UP YOU OLD BASTARD!" He ROARED as he jumped to his feet, wobbling at first before griping his trench knife. His sword was to far out of distance to grab at taht very moment and Prelait needed aid right there and then.

Rushing forth, knife gripped in his left and wrist blade extended from the right Strider would launch himself at the vong in tandem of [member="Preliat Mantis"] assault.

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

"Why did I get left behind?"

It was probably the twelfth time she asked that today, and she could tell the rest of the team was getting sick of it. Zandra was beyond caring what they thought though. This was not helping. Not anybody. Not her husband. Not her children. Not the other billion or so people missing. So why were they even here? She knew nothing of this prison. What was the point? She traced her fingers along her favorite knife as she walked. Unlike her group, she was not really there to secure the facility. Hell, she didn't even know why she was there in the first place anymore! Why did she come?

So I won't be alone, she answered herself almost immediately. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Her Mother would be ashamed. Since when do I care what my Mother thinks?

She felt so confused. She felt like a stranger. And in most ways, she was. She didn't even have her own armor. Refused it, actually. It just slowed her down. She relied on her own speed and the power her own trained body provided. Her aim with a blaster was just barely passable and she didn't follow orders well. She followed the music of battle, she danced to the unique song. Each fight was beautiful and personal. Not even her husband really understood that. It wasn't just about surviving for her. She lived for this incredibly intimate, beautiful moment, with her life on the line and her heart on her sleeve.

Nobody could understand... except maybe this wookiee. Zandra blinked in slight surprise as he gestured towards her, beckoning her over. She raised a pale eyebrow, gave the rest of the group a withering look and left them without a second thought, twirling her blade between her fingers. She liked Wookiees. They were a people who understood strength.


"Why?" she asked out loud, blocking an attack from the side with her blade, "Why?"
Her opponent did not seem to hear her. The Echani womans eyebrows knit together, a sudden rage filling her every nerve.
"Why!?" metal on metal. This was beautiful. This was clean. She spun and danced with her nameless opponent. She felt his footsteps, watched his fingers dance on the handle. "Why? Why did I get left behind!?"

The dance ended with a slice across his throat. He fell, clutching the gash on his neck as he gasped. Zandra tilted her head. He'd given her no satisfaction. No answer. Killing him did not help. The battle did not help. She still felt empty. And angry.

"...I'll tell ya why," she sighed, shoving her blade through his chest to finish it, "because we're all dead already."

She pulled her blade up again, shaking it once to flick the blood off.

[member="Shywooshk"] [member="Calico Tal'verda"]

 

[Dredge]

[member="Preliat Mantis"] had come at Dredge with the tomahawk in a last futile attempt to stand against his power and malevolence, another thunder bolt cracked and it was time to end this tiny game of cat and mouse. Raising his left hand up with the large bastard sword in it he caught the blow inside of Preliat's forearm and blocked the blow. But rather than twist the blade and bring it down on him he simply dropped it and let it slide to the ground so the point stuck in the earth. The black blood stained face of Dredge snarled at Preliat and with his right arm he flung it back and aimed another punch at Preliat's face. It wasn't augmented by the force but it was a blow meant to put the mando on the ground and keep him there for a few moments, it would make his world spin so he could deliver his rhetoric before ending the warriors life. After the punch was thrown Dredge heard a heated roar coming from behind him and without so much as seeing how his attack on Preliat had gone he turned around to face [member="Strider Garon"] coming at him blade bared.

"Not today old dog." And with those words Dredge lifted a single hand in a gesture for the warrior to stop.

And with an effort of will and power pure kinetic force charged out of his hand in a push aimed at the old mando. It was intended to send him flying towards the prison wall and make him crash against it so he could swiftly finish Preliat before going to end the old warrior. They deserved this death, to meet their ends at the hands of himself in battle. He wouldn't torture them like the rest, he respected them too much to deprive them of a warriors death.

 

[Ordo]

Ordo jumped a log and ran out of the trees. He entered the open area around the prison. His eyes like steel behind the T-shaped visor of his helmet scoured the area for targets.

Thunder rumbled and cracked as a bolt of lightning crossed the jungle sky. Ordo looked for [member="Strider Garon"], [member="Preliat Mantis"], and [member="Dredge"] but must have been on the wrong side of the building. He launched himself into another jog and made way for the prison gates.

 

[Not Ordo]

[member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"]

Kyr lifted his wrist to his helmet speaker and gave his report.

"Initiate Jemdri reporting north east quadrant all secure, startport all secure. I'm moving south with my squad mostly just confusion here now."

He continued to direct his people to clear the city door by door as they moved south.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

The pain came across his face in a web, at first, overall, but then, at a specific, precise location on his face. The Wolf was slammed violently backwards, skimming along the ground. Sparks flew from the armor that he wore, leaving a light entrenched engravement in the concrete of the prison. Preliat blinked, looking around the area. He was dizzy from the hit, disoriented. He knew that some of his teeth were either loose or had been knocked out entirely. He'd have bruises, if he survived the encounter. Preliat looked up towards Dredge, too disoriented to launch a counterattack. He'd have to play defensively for the next few precious seconds, unless he would want to make a mistake and meet his end at the prison in which he had wronged [member="Dredge"] so many years ago.


Preliat dropped his beskad at his side, leaving it near his foot. He found it hard to grip the handle, for the time being. He'd have to wait. Wait for Dredge. Or die. Preliat blinked, taking in the fact that he could have been looking at the last few moments of his life.

 

[Dredge]

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

Turning back around confident that the force push had taken care of strider, another clap of thunder and flash of lighting ran down and Dredge turned to face Preliat. Black blood still continued to run down his face and beneath his helmet as he looked at the rattled man. It was time to finish this, it was time to finish what he had started all those years ago. And if he was going to kill Preliat, the last thing he wanted him to see in this wretched excuse he called a life, it was his face. Slowly reaching up he removed the heavy alchemized helmet and let it fall to the ground. Rain came down on Dredge's cut face and a slash going from one end to the other on his face oozed blood that mixed with the fresh jungle rain.

"Preliat, you didn't think it would end like this did you?" Dredge said in almost a mocking caring tone.

With a few step forwards his large feet splashed in the rain until he came upon his sword. He smiled a wolfish toothy grin and picked it up dragging it by his side as he stepped forward to the downed man.

"You see Preliat, in the end. We are all just moments in eternity, brief seconds that are gone in a flash of an eye." Bringing the sword up held it with both hands in a normal fighting stance.

"And it's your time to face eternity child, but before you die I want you to know something." Dredge flipped the sword and walked until he stood directly above the wolf, looking down at him as he struggled to regain his bearing.

"I want you to know that I am generous, that I am kind. I will not kill your spawn, nor torture your queen, my vengeance ends with your death. I will grant you this measure of peace." Turning the sword around Dredge aimed it so he could bring it down in a direct stabbing motion.

"Travel well, old enemy." And with that Dredge took the blade and lifted it up dramatically giving the stunned Preliat precious moments.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat had never bothered to consider what [member="Dredge"] really looked like, under his helmet. It was an indescribable mess of scars and hideousness, as most Vong were to those not familiar with their culture. The tone in which Dredge spoke to him, while he lay on the ground, confused and wounded, angered him even more. Then, he marched forward, sword in his hands. Preliat was not to do die here. He couldn't. Every muscle in his body screamed, every ounce of willpower begged him not to remain still. He had so much to live for. Aditya. Yasha. The man near him. His people, his brother, his way of life- the protection in which he offered them. He knew the Mandalorians would miss him. They would survive, but he would not feel right leaving them in such tumultuous times. Preliat narrowed his eyes, and ignored the stinging pain in his side and the fires of his muscles as he grabbed the Beskad at his side.


He rolled to the side, the terrifying powerful blade coming mere centimeters away from his body. There was a scrape as the blade failed to pierce his Beskar'kandar plated armor. Preliat pushed himself up with one hand, and leaped upwards with a powerful extension of his legs. The beskad went upwards, straight for Dredge's neck, in a brutal, fatal stabbing motion.


"No. I don't think it will end like this, Dredge."

Preliat said, standing before Dredge- no longer on his back.

 

[Dredge]

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

With a crack of thunder and a flash of light Preliat was gone, and instead of a dead mando impaled on his sword. Dredge had a knife sticking out the other end of his neck, it had missed his spine but the man was simply done. Black Yuuzhan Vong blood splattered from his mouth and ran down his chin and neck as it mixed with the jungle rain. He dropped his sword and he stared at the mando with hate burned Into his fading face. He could kill him right here, but if he did so Dredge's soul would be stuck here on this god forsaken planet. Or much worse, be sucked down into hell where people had been coming back from. No he couldn't allow that. So with the blade sticking out of his neck he spurted blood and spoke softly through destroyed vocal chords.

"Very... good- Preliat." He said softly as he began to lift his hands up.

"I'll see you... again." And with that Dredge lifted his arms and hands with every last effort of strength he had.

Power coursed through his body and dark energy flowed through him and Preliat. Dredge's eyes went blank from the blood loss and he simply died. A husk of armor and flesh remained.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat felt the foul presence of Dredge linger for a moment, before he brought his leg upwards, and kicked Dredge's lifeless corpse off of his blade. Black blood splattered along the ground. Preliat's muscular shoulders heaved, and he stood in the rain, the victor. But why did he feel as though he lost? Why did he not feel as though he achieved total victory? Preliat wanted to give Dredge a reply, but he died before Preliat could break word with him. He flexed his arms, tensing his muscles and glancing to [member="Strider Garon"].


"The Unmaker stands undone."


Preliat stood tall, the blade clutched tightly in his hands. Preliat looked at the dead body of his long-time foe, and reached to his neck. He thought of departing his head from his body, but found himself absent reason. Dredge was honorable at the end of his life. He gave him a warrior's death. Preliat would respect that, at least. Preliat hated every aspect of the beast- but he respected him enough not to desecrate his body. Preliat reached down, picking up the helmet.


He bounced it in his hand, turning to [member="Strider Garon"].


"[member="Cryax Bane"] should get this in the mail."

 

[Dredge]

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

Dredge's dead body lay in the cold wet earth of the mando prison, rivers of black blood dissipating in the rain. The armor of the final sith emperor began to glow a hot red and the helmet in Preliat's hand would heat up to unbearable temperatures. Inside the armor, Dredge's corpse began to burn and flake away into wet ash until nothing but metal and a black smudge lay on the ground.

And with that, the armor began to sink into the mud. The earth pulled that darkness into it and the sword as well, all unnaturally returning into the mud and water. They sunk downwards until they were gone and if Preliat were to drop the helmet it would do the same, sink into the earth. Into the abyss where it could do no more harm, nor tempt others with it's dark power.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat didn't feel the heat through his crushgaunts at first, but dropped the helmet when warmth began to build, and the armor began to sink back to hell, where [member="Dredge"] had originated from. He glared at him, before walking away. He walked through the rain, before he eventually stumbled upon [member="Ordo"], just outside the prison gates. Preliat slid his Beskad to the magnetic sheath on his back, looking at the old man, too tired and too exhausted from his fight to argue or spit hatred to the traitorous Mandalorian.


He looked behind him, then back to Ordo.


"I just solved a problem. So why do I feel like I gained a new one?"