Qiilura, We warned you.

[Ordo Darnuhoy]

Something about dying does things to a man. His convictions, his feelings, his personality all change. Getting sucked back was worse however. There was a time Ordo wouldn't have looked for revenge. There was a time he would have let bygones be bygones and stayed on his farm properly retired. Times change.

A long time ago the Gurlanin species was told to stay put. The oldest records he had found in the oldest databases had it all written down as plain as the nose on his face. "Get involved again and we'll end you. They didn't listen and it was time to pay the blood price.

He could have taken a ship and rained hell but no. He had died for their hubris and now it was far to personal. He wanted them to see the architect of their destruction.

He stepped off his ship with a squad of his "sons and daughters" and pumped the action on his old CM-Fragstorm.

"Stay in formation," he said his voice filled with the fire he was about to start, "Burn the dogs out. 500 credits per pelt. And I want my pelts fresh."

Flames spewed from the gauntlets of the flankers as they walked in formation from the ship. Let the dogs come.

 

[Kad Har'rangir]

Kad Har'rangir.

Destroyer.

Bringer of change and growth.

Eternal enemy of Arasuum.

The title suited her. Perhaps it was hubris that allowed her to believe such a thing. But had she not defeated the stagnation that had warped the Mandalorians? Did she not help bring about destruction on a scale greater than any this generation had witness? Had she not paved the way for change?She did not like the change, but that was neither here nor there. When the time was right, she would do her duty again and she would bring the wrath of Kad Har'rangir back upon them.

Now though? Now she felt the familiar warmth of adrenaline pulse through her veins, the hunger for the kill. She marched with her brother to bring promised wrath against the Gurlanin. They had been warned, oh so many years ago they had been told never to leave or interfere again, they had failed to adhere the warning. Her death had been proof.

But now she lived, now she lived and she marched with her brother to bring about the destruction of another nation.

[member="Ordo Darnuhoy"]

 

[Rhen Ordo]

It had been a conversation with her Hutt employer that had mostly gone around in circles until they'd come to an agreement that was inevitable whichever way you spun it, and she was mostly content so long as the credits kept coming in. The only reason she'd heard about the attack in the first place was because she had family on the planet - her mother and father, namely - which was why she'd brought it to the attention of her boss. She'd had every reason to go beforehand, but when credits were offered as an extra incentive she supposed it wouldn't be wise to keep him waiting.

In her three centuries of life Cori had only seen the homeworld a mere handful of times, but better now than later to become reacquainted. Her arrival on-planet was accompanied by a group of Trandoshans that had been sent along in her opinion unnecessarily, as a giant canine usually did a decent enough job of deterrence. It wasn't as if they'd be able to communicate effectively so long as she remained in her primary form, but she didn't consider that her problem. All of her people were apex predators in their own right, and the added assistance was only a bonus.

She remained at the head of the group, moving silently through the grass as they approached the epicenter of whatever or whoever began this.

[member="Gorda the Hutt"] | [member="Ambrose Mantis"] | [member="Ordo Darnuhoy"]

 

[Ordo Darnuhoy]

Flames danced in the surface of the various T-shaped visors. Smoke rose on heat waves as they lined their path with the chemical flames. Ordo watched as a shape rose from the grass directly in front of him. The Gurlanin was a bout average for his species. Bright orange eyes that caught the light, 1.5 meters from nose to end and about .75 meters tall. The black fured creature hadn't been as hidden as it thought it was. Ordo had been able to feel their force sensitivity from orbit. He had thought there would be more.

The Gurlanin slowly rose on its hind legs and took a human form and Ordo recognized old [member="Kal Ordo"] right away.

"You need to lea..." Kal began.

The shotgun barked and kicked against his hands relieving Kal of his old face.

"No talking." He ordered calmly as they fell into a staggered wall formation and started leap froging squads forward. Forward, kneel and aim. Forward kneel and aim. Like a precision instrument while he waited for the feelings in the force to grow stronger.

"Keep burning." Ordo said as the reached Kal's body and hr knelt to take the pelt. "Kill everything."


[member="Kad Har'rangir"] [member="Cori Ilian"] >.>

 

[Zye Woden]

[member="Ordo Darnuhoy"] [member="Cori Ilian"] [member="Kad Har'rangir"]

Mandalorians were a unique culture, one of the few that Zye or anyone from House Woden held a modicum of respect for. They were killers by culture, and with that, the Wodens had a lot in common. The Mandalorians fought and killed for honor or a pay check--The Wodens killed for the honor and their own people. A few years ago, or even a few months ago, Zye would have scoffed at the idea of killing purely for money, and killing anything that didn't directly protect the people of Iridonia. Now he was here on Qiilura doing both. It was amazing what being kicked from your ancestral home did to you. There were not many jobs that he was suited for, but killing was one that he could fill without question. It was better than scrubbing toilets or flipping patties. And beside, Zye enjoyed his work. He would have done it for free if he had the opportunity.

He descended with the other T-visored warriors. But unlike them, he did not wear the armor of their kind. He wore a simpler garb, duraplast plate armor covering his chest back and arms. It was lighter, would allow him to move. And equally important, it was the best he could afford right now. His skin was completely covered with gloves, a scarf, a hood, and boots, protecting him from the sun itself. That was more important to him than any other form of armor.

He stepped forward, the boots crushing the ground underfoot with a determined step. It was genocide, more likely than not, but he didn't care at this point. His whip cracked, snatching hold of a Gurlanin that tried to flee away by its throat. With a snap of his wrist, the vampire jerked it back towards him. His short sword drove into its back, cleanly killing. He stepped over the lifeless body, charging forward at an even pace. One of the natives elected for a more direct approach, he charged Zye, fangs barred in rage. The second he leaped, the dark jedi side stepped the attack, slicing through its calf with a clean back stroke. The Gurlanin howled in pain as Zye twirled his blade across the back of his hand. Its tip plunged into the beast's skull. The sweet scent of its blood filled Zye's senses.

He turned back from the kill just in time to see one of the youths throw hurl something towards them. It was a pipe bomb, crudely made with poor resources. Zye waved his hand, sending it crashing through a hut. Its thatched roof exploded upward, its walls blasted out.

"Pathetic," he muttered.

 

[Ordo Darnuhoy]

BOOM!

chuck chuck

It was an old familiar rhythm. They barely had to march at all now. They were coming more readily as their kith and kin fell. The flames continued to grow and Ordo knew they would cut and run soon. They played at predators but at the end of the day they were just dogs that preferred to hide rather than fight. Little dogs that had broken their one rule. Stay. On. Qiilura. Now he was going to make sure their was no Qiilura.

He took a thermal detonator from his H-harness and lobbed it off into the darkness. He didn't care what it hit. The only ones that mattered were already with him.

BADUUUM

The thermal flash of the baridium lit the darkness and caused his visor to darken for a moment.

"Keep killing." He bellowed over the sounds of fighting, "Remind the gutless ingrates that there are consequences for stupidity."

He called up his auto-cannon, a weapon that only a very few men in the galaxy aside from the truly huge could handle. Two vode carried it forward and he called on the Manda to lift it.

"Brace!" He said as he sighted dark shapes against the back drop of burning landscapes.

VSHOOOOM

The cannon roared as everything in his fire arc was cut down.


[member="Kad Har'rangir"] [member="Cori Ilian"] [member="Zye Woden"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Preliat Mantis stood tall, amidst the burning fires.

He had heard of the death. Of the destruction. Ramanar. Death. That was his title- seemingly long ago. Before the madness gripped his people. He turned his head, unburdened by a helmet, towards the two that he thought he would not see again. The Beskar axe in his hands, heavy for most men, but light for the Wolf, rotated only once.

He turned his head towards the approaching Mandalorians.

Then, the Wolf moved. With the pummel of his axe, he drove it deep into the stomach of an attacking Gurlanin, and then another at his front, cleaving him in half with an upwards strike of his axe. He turned to face Ordo.

And the other. She seemed familiar.

"You have a hard time staying dead."

He said bluntly, before rotating the axe in his hands.