Private ~ Shattering ~

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

She stood under the shower. A hot shower. This should feel nice, calm, soothing after all she had endured. Yet, she found no joy. Steam swirled as she heavily breathed out, resting her forehead against the cold, durasteel wall. She reached up with a four digit hand and wiped a small amount of steam and water off the wall, revealing the blurred reflection of her face against the smudged metal. She breathed again. More steam. Two amber eyes, unfamiliar and foreign stared back at her.

"So I'm back here again."

Her voice was far from weak or somber. If there was grief, it was hardened in bitterness and rage.

"I'm back here again. I'm alone again." She breathed. More steam swirled around her as she leaned against the wall, unable to support herself. "But never again."

As water slipped down the wall, starting to cover her face in the steel mirror again, she narrowed those unfamiliar eyes she would claim as her own, "I am Mando'ade. I have a duty. No Sith, no exceptions."

She still felt the phantom limb, water dripping down its non-existant mass. "I will protect everything I have left. I will learn whatever skill, knowledge, and power is needed to protect my loved ones. No weakness, no exceptions."

She hissed, seething as her eyes were hidden from her sight, water droplets covering it and steam whirling. She was a monster now, and her own flesh and blood was the blame for it. "If I was born for misery, I will drag the rest of the galaxy down with me. If my father saw me as an abomination, that is what I'll be. Kark morality, I don't care. I only care for my own. I'll be selfish. No mercy, no exceptions."

F O U R - M O N T H S - E A R L I E R ​

The loud hum of the floating bed gave her a headache. Blinding white light practically blinded her. She could seldom make out any shapes at all. Mechanical beeping blared. Voices were nothing but random gibberish to her. She struggled to keep her eyes open as the bed she was chained to moved down the hallway, guarded and secure.

Where?...

Eventually the bed jostled, announcing her stop. The sound of a door hissing open was far away from her perception. They went through the doorway, into a larger room. The lights still blinded her. Oh, this headache. A robed man stood in front of her. He scoffed. That voice was... familiar...

His voice was familiar, but she was unable to decipher the words. The tone was belittling and spiteful, and it made her shiver. The bed began to move again, and she was bewildered.

Where am I? How did I get here? Why did that man sound like my father? Where's Kranak? Eliz? What...

The questions kept rolling on and on in her mind as she faded into unconsciousness.

​

She first processed the machinery beeping and blaring. Tick tock, mechanical parts whirled and she struggled to fight the headache. Eyes winced shut, she was unable to smell much of anything as she tried to hear anything else. She could feel that she was bound by her arms, legs, and waist to an uncomfortable metal table. The cold was biting, and the only form of warmth was the thin, loose gown wrapped around her body.

She opened her eyes.

She winced at the light pounding into her eyes, shutting her eyelids once more. She moaned before slowly opening her eyes again, looking up to many lamps, medical equipment, and other strange objects crowding her, looming over her. She tried to move her head from a needle that was making her claustrophobic, but she realized her head was bound as well. The metal cuffs and bands clung to her, squeezing her against the table. Wherever her eyes darted, only more equipment and lights. She started panting, breaking out into a cold sweat.

"Ah, you are finally awake."

No... No. That-that could not be...

Father?

"Greetings, Gwyneira. Welcome to my workplace."

Her eyes fluttered towards the direction of the voice. She could faintly see the tall Arkanian through her peripheral vision.

"After all this time, I finally found you," He paused for a moment before bitterly muttering, "My greatest mistake."

That stung. Gwyn had been called worse by her father, but this still stung. She closed her eyes, heart beating rapidly in her chest. He continued to speak, "I finally got to it, half breed. I finally am doing what I should have done all along. I am fixing the errors and cleaning the mistakes. You, girl, will suffer immeasurably before you finally die. Just as you deserve."

Panic was causing her to shake, panting. What was going to happen to her? What did he have planned? After everything she had been through, had she suffered enough? Apparently not, as his footsteps echoed around the room as he walked around the equipment. "First off, I will need to collect your tainted DNA."

She opened her eyes, trying to look around for what was happening. Alas, chained to the table, she only could hear him tapping some buttons on a machine, "Your leg will do nicely."

The sound of a buzzsaw being tested was terrible, but the wind just above her ankle was even worse. Tears flooded her eyes as he spoke.

"No anesthetics. You will feel everything, Gwyneira Craft."

S H A T T E R I N G

​

​

​

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

A F T E R - F O U R - M O N T H S - O F - S U F F E R I N G ​

She wanted out. Desperately.

How long had it been? Weeks? Months? Years? How long of being chained to this same table, performed test after test on? At first, it was mostly testing new drugs and equipment. Not to mention, everything done to her eyes. And further genetic splicing. What had they done to her?

Then, the expiraments were expanded upon.

Bound in wires, cybernetics, and monitored. She was tortured. Just tortured. Electricity, serums, beatings. All to see exactly what her body was going through and how much she could take. From what she could gather from the chatter of the scientists, it was because she was close enough to Arkanians biologically to test these things, but was not Arkanian enough to be treated like a person. On top of this, being a trained Mandalorian warrior meant she had the physicality to not crumple like paper when afflicted.

Despite the tests, these were the few times she was not on her medical table. At least she was moving, and that was a small relief. Sometimes, she fought when being chained to the table again. Most times, she lacked the energy to do anything but plead for nonexistent mercy.

Yet, being moved around the room more meant she could actually figure out some of where she was. As much as her father denied she was Arkanian, she indeed carried the intelligence of her father's species. She was able to deduce that she was in space. From the way the star patterns moved from day to day between, she could gather that the structure was moving as well. She was still unable to figure out, however, whether this was a ship or mobile space station. However, she did know this was an underground Arkanian operation, as this sort of stuff was made illegal by the Galactic Alliance, where Arkania was located. So, she was on a moving space structure somewhere in space.

Well, at least she knew something now. And that was something. Could she escape like this?

She was currently on another escort, passing the long window where she once again gazed upon the spanning abyss of space. The spanning freedom. She frowned, wishing and hoping for that freedom. She wished she could look outside longer, but the medical table she was on kept moving. With her left leg cut off, she was unable to walk anymore.

Just one of many wounds inflicted upon her.

Was the Enclave looking for her? Was Kranak Vizsla looking for her? Her buir? Or would he be disappointed that she let herself get captured and leave her?

The thought was daunting and damning, yet she was able to convince herself otherwise. No. Kranak Vizsla had adopted her, made her his foundling. He was her Buir, her father! Her true father. Not like the Arkanian scientist who always had ignored, disowned, or now actively experimented on her.

The doors to the next room slid open. Inside, she saw that dark father speaking to another scientist. She scowled as she laid eyes on the evil man.

"Gwyneira Craft."

Ah, yet another way of insulting her. She realized, that by calling her Craft, not Krayt, he was once again attacking her. As opposed to a proud Mandalorian of a warrior clan, she was treated as a nobody. Ah, yes, Clan Krayt. She had joined the clan with her late love, Jac'Eli'Zirem Krayt, whom she missed dreadfully. Her other tie to the clan was her Alor, Shai Krayt. The energetic, snarky wardog was a ferocious fighter and mother. What would she think of Gwyn now? A pathetic lab rat. Would she be disappointed in her? Angry? Declare Gwyneira unworthy of being a member of the clan? Would she be ostracized again?

Would she be disowned? Like her father, standing before her, had disowned her many times?

She was lifted from the table, too chalked full of drugs to move in her own. Despite everything, she met his apathetic glare with defiance, "Okay, what father-daughter activities are we doing today?"

The man frowned. His white robe twirled as he turned to face her. Oh, she had made him angry. She smirked. Despite everything, she knew she was going to hurt today regardless. Might as well kark off the man while it all happened.

"In fact," He sputtered, "We are playing a wonderful little game of dodge the electrostavs. I predict you will be begging for mercy, again, in five minutes..."

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Shattering​

Location: Hyperspace, Aboard Shai’s Freighter, Enroute To Mala, Outer Rim
Local Time: N/A
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Search For Gwyn
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 2 (Minus the Backpack and Primary. Integrated SD Belt.) + Goran’s Stand
Tags: Clan Krayt | Shai Maji | Gwyneira Vizsla | Vulcan Krayt | Sergeant Omen |

Anxious Preparation​

Fifteen minutes before mission briefing…

The vibrant blue glimmer of the holotable before him barely enlightened the dimmed, smoke-filled room. Finished with yet another smoke, the giant stubbed the spent cigarra on the filled ashtray on the holotable beside his buy’ce with a sigh. As he reached for the palm sized cigarra roller case from his pouch and began rolling half a dozen filterless cigarras for himself, he ran the details of the mission for quite literally the hundredth time. He was known for leaving nothing to chance when it comes to a mission. This was only slightly different, as he made sure more than ever that everything would be going as planned, leaving no room for error, even though he never discounted the possibility they would no doubt be forced to adapt to the tactical situation presented to them by today’s hostiles. After all, a plan almost never survived the first contact intact. A tactical mind, adapting to the situation presented to them was necessary to carry out missions such as this successfully.

Drawing away the cigarra from his lips after a long drag, he blew the smoke as he set out to read the intelligence report again, gathered for him by his underworld contacts. He had got in touch with them, tasked and paid them for locating his daughter the day she went missing. Regrettably, he had begun losing hope, and thinking the worst had come to pass as days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as the search for her whereabouts turned out to be fruitless.

Until several hours ago.

The giant’s contacts had picked up her trace on a group of Arkanian scientists, seemingly out on a supply run in the black market, purchasing a number of scientific and medical equipment and supplies, and had tracked down them to a sizable space station orbiting the lifeless planet of Mala in the Outer Rim. They were kind enough to provide him with a scan of the station, giving him a detailed layout of the facility, among other things. There were sixty-four lifeforms aboard the station in total, spread across multiple floors. Some floors appeared to be reserved for storage, while others appeared to be reserved for operating theaters, crew quarters and the likes.

This was the best lead they’ve had so far. Though it was uncertain whether she was in that space station or not; or whether she was dead or alive. The Alor’ad[1] was afraid, deathly afraid of finding her lifeless body in that station, but there was no other way of knowing whether she was dead or alive.

There was no other way of finding out, other than going in there and seeing things for themselves.

Accepting the fate that laid before him with a heavy heart in an attempt to try and prepare himself for the worst possible outcome, he had set out to find out, along with his close friends and several members of Clan Krayt to find out, and get her out of there alive if she was held captive there.

He prayed, begged for the Manda[2] she was alive, and may they find her today.

​

”Alright, let’s get down to business.” Striking the match on the side of the matchbox, the match in his hand lit up with a distinctive hiss, lighting up a cigarra as he spoke. He took a short drag from it before he continued briefing the vode[3] gathered around the holotable, with a serious tone. “My underworld contacts have reached out to me several hours ago, finally with a solid lead on Gwyn. Although it’s uncertain whether she’s dead or alive, or if she’s even there or not at this time,” He paused to take a brief drag from his smoke, raising the cigarra to his lips. Turning his head to the side, he blew out the smoke away from them before continuing. ”This is the best lead we’ve got in our hands after months of searching for the lass. We cannot miss this opportunity to find her. Even if she’s not held there, any clues we could obtain can lead us to her. Now,” Pressing a button on the console in front of him, the holotable depicted a dead world, struck out of orbit from its sun before their eyes.

​

“Mala,” he said, blowing out smoke after puffing his cigarra, pointing at the holo projection of the planet before him with a knife hand. “El dash nineteen. Outer Rim. Right on the Hydian Way. A cold, dead world. Records suggest it had been laid to utter waste hundreds of years ago,” He tapped the cigarra’s cherry end on the ashtray as he spoke. “No attempts at recolonization ever since. Out of sight, out of mind. My contacts have tracked down a group of Arkanian scientists out on a supply run to a facility orbiting the planet,” Pressing another button on the holotable’s console, the giant highlighted the artificial structure’s trajectory orbiting the planet. Magnifying the image a hundred times, the Alor’ad revealed the space station to his vode.

​

“My former colleagues were kind enough to provide me with a detailed scan of the station,” He said, stubbing the spent cigarra on the ashtray packed full of cigarra buds, next to his buy’ce. He pressed another button, revealing floor plans mapped out from the scan. The giant took another cigarra from the palm sized cigarra case of his as he spoke. “No noteworthy external defenses, other than a simple energy shield to protect the facility from space debris and meteorites. Internal defenses though?” He quickly lit up the cigarra with a match, and took a long drag from his freshly lit cigarra before continuing. “Several automated turrets scattered across several floors,” he said as he put out the match and flicked it into the ashtray beside him. The giant then used the console in front of him, highlighting each floor where the automated turrets were located. “Operation theaters and laboratories, recreational area, crew and personnel quarters, and the command center.” The storage area at the bottom most floor had no noteworthy defenses. “That only covers the internal defenses we’re currently aware of right now,” He said, emphasizing the fact that a possible wide variety of nasty surprises could reveal themselves to them during the mission. “As much as the scan’s solid, watch your step out there.” The last thing he needed was casualties.

“Now, as for our insertion into the facility,” He said, reducing magnification of the facility by twenty. “We will engage a jamming sequence the microsecond we’re out of hyperspace. Then, once we’re in range, about five hundred meters from the station, we will insert via low-gravity infiltration.” He paused for a moment to take a whiff from his cigarra. He crossed his arms over his broad chestplate afterwards. “Extraction will be done via this freighter. Once we’ve either got the lass out of there, or any information pointing at where she’s held up, we will meet with The Vhipirheim at the RV[4].” The rendezvous point for full extraction was highlighted at the edge of the Surd Nebula.

“RoE[5] is simple: neutralize any and all hostile contacts. Do keep in mind, however,” Raising the cigarra to his lips, the Alor’ad took a long drag, blowing the smoke from his nostrils. “We may need to take a few of them alive for questioning, just in case their data banks are useless. Highly unlikely, but… you never know.”

“Alright,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment. He pinched the bridge of his nose with the cigarra between the first and second knuckle of his right hand. Opening his eyes, he crossed his hands over his chest once again shortly afterwards, and eyed the faces and helmet visors around the holotable. “We translate out of hyperspace in fifteen minutes,” The giant said, having memorized the time table they were operating in. “If you have any questions about the operation, now is the time to ask them.”

Spoiler: Translations and Abbreviations

[1] Alor’ad = Captain.
[2] Manda = The Mandalorian, collective oversoul.
[3] Vode = Brothers/Sisters. Plural of vod (Brother/sister).
[4] RV = Rendezvous.
[5] RoE = Rules of engagement.

​

​

 

[Vulcan Krayt]

Objective I: Plan the rescue of Gwyn
Location: Hyperspace, Aboard Shai's Freighter, Enroute To Mala, Outer Rim
Equipment: Sword, M.I. Beskar'gam Mk.1 M.I. 'Sunstroke' jetpack M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol, M.I. Model 12 shatter rifle x2, Thermal Detonators, Magnetic Detonators, Perun's Call
Tag: | Shai Maji | Gwyneira Vizsla | Kranak Vizsla | Sergeant Omen |

Vulcan stood close to the table, and he stared at the images, but the only thing on his mind is his older sister was in trouble, trouble so deep that he wasn't sure she was still there in the living. He had grabbed at the chance to bring Gwyn home, away from all that may be inside that Station.

They climbed a mountain together, they reached the summit and he half wondered if his pillowcase was still up there, showing other Mando, that they were there first. He brought markers for them to write their names so that they can claim dibs. After all, the first ascent is the fun part. They could do it again in the future. At least, that is what he had hoped for and will bring up at a later date.

Vulcan smiled under his helmet at their joint adventure and the thrills and spills. But that wide smile faltered and then faded into a frown as he listened to Kranak's brief and then turned his attention back to the Space Station, such an ugly thing, an ugly situation all around, his growing worry and irritation left an ugly pit in his stomach. He felt sick, but this wasn't about that, it was about rescue and bringing Gwyn home. Even if he had to kick shins, headbutt or threaten the personnel on that Station with sticky Thermal Detonators to do it.

His focus was razor-sharp and he focused hard on the objective and kept his growing worry and anger at Gwyn's abduction subdued, how can they do such a thing? Vulcan knew the answer, but he didn't want to think of it. Instead, he wanted to go in there and destroy it, be the one to get rid of it so it can be forgotten and not remembered. This time he would be doing it out of rage, an irritation that he dared not show because frustration will not do any favours here.

Now the wait begins, the lull before the fight and toil. This was not the greatest silence he's ever felt, this one could be sliced with a knife. He wanted to say something, but nothing sounded right, sounded comforting or optimistic or wanted. He busied himself with counting his ordinances and clipping them to his belt. Busy Hands is a distraction that helped and allowed him time to check everything is in full working order.

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Objective I: Plan the rescue of Gwyn
Location: Hyperspace, Aboard Shai's Freighter, Enroute To Mala, Outer Rim
Tag: | Shai Maji | Gwyneira Vizsla | Kranak Vizsla | Vulcan Krayt |

Omen leaned against the back of the wall as he watched Kranak make his presentation. It was a pretty straightforward mission, just get in and get out alive. The keyword in that statement was that they needed to get out alive. Then again by how tired Kranak must feel after searching this long for his kid, could he really be counted as alive. Or at least counted as alive as the victims trapped in that base.

The Clone had responded as soon as the Mando Medic had requested his presence, knowing what was at hand. He knew how much Kranak had spiraled down into the endless void of depression with both Eliz and Gwen missing. Hell, he had even gone into the Kestrei's bases pharmacy to find out that Kranak had been taking much more Morphine than his daily allotment. Between the bar and his information service, he hadn't had the time to check up on the squad leader which he deeply regretted. Now he had a chance to make up for it which he would grip with both of his metal hands.

When the presentation had concluded, Omen quietly lifted his hand in the back of the room and asked about the items the squad leader had left out. "One, do these mad scientists have any armed personal that aren't stationary or for that matter starships? Two, where are we inserting? Are we just burning through to the storage area? Three, is there a terminal where we shut down all the turrets that will make us into swiss cheese? Four, please tell me you will be taking a vacation after this because we both know those red eyes aren't from the cigarra smoke."

 

[Shai Maji]

The moment Shai heard from Kranak, she dropped everything to get things planned. Her freighter was serviced, volunteers drafted from her clan, weapons and ordinance gathered and checked, updates made to the software on her ship, even the Vhipirheim was swooped into the mess for some extra reassurance. After all, one could never go wrong with a few solar ion cannons.

With folded arms, Shai listened and observed as Kranak gave them the rundown around the holotable. Alongside her stood twenty other Krayts, all armed and ready for war. All had collapsable shields on their vambraces and tubes snaking from their flamethrowers to their jetpacks. They all watched, took notes on their vambraces, uploaded the schematics, and waited for it to end.

Once it was over, their attention was drawn to the man standing in the back of the group. ”You worry too much, schutta!” one spoke up among the group as the rest laughed. ”Clearly you’ve never rolled with Krayts. We make an entrance where we feel like it, we get in and get our sister. Dragons stick together, Gwyn’ika is no exception.” Another declared with fire in his voice, earning a cheer from the rest. They were all volunteers, they wanted to be there and they knew the risks. Nothing would come between them and the debt they wanted to collect.

They were borderline animals, warriors all with a twisted fire in their eyes. The clan was shattered once before, it wouldn’t happen again. ”We’re bringin’ our kiddo home. And once we’ve taken and looted all we can... we’ll turn that station into a light-show big enough to be seen from Kestri.” Shai spoke up over the crowd as she stood next to Vulcan. Him and Gwyn had grown closer as of late. It was a relief for her, her kiddies all getting along and fighting together. She wasn’t going to be robbed of another kiddie, and she wasn’t going to let Vulcan lose his sister already.

”And Omen..” Her attention turned to the Clone standing apart from the rest. ”I hope you brought a notebook along for this ride. You’re about to see the strongest clan in the galaxy do their job.” Sue quipped with a chuckle, soon joined by the cheers and laughter of her clan. They were rowdy and loud, practically impossible to control. ”An’ the Beast of Panatha will be joinin’ us as well.” The man gripped Vulcan’s shoulder and shook him heartily.

The warriors spilled out of the mess room and into the hangar of the freighter, going over all their weapons once again. Shai stayed behind and looked at the other two men. ”My boys are thirsty for blood. They’ll fight like hell. We’re gettin’ her back. But Kran, I need you to have a clear mind for this.” Her attention turned to Omen. They met before. She wasn’t sure if he remembered, but the trip on Felucia was still fresh in her mind. She was willing to bet that both of their first impressions left a lot to be desired. ”And Omen, if you call him out like that again in public, I’ll feed you your teeth. You watch your tongue.” She threatened with a growl as she glared at him.

Making her way out, she slipped her helmet on and headed for the cockpit. ”Time to rock and roll. Let’s do this.”

Vulcan Krayt Gwyneira Vizsla Kranak Vizsla Sergeant Omen

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Kranak Vizsla Shai Maji Sergeant Omen Vulcan Krayt​

IT - W I L L - N O T - B E - L O N G - U N T I L - Y O U - F I N A L L Y - B R E A K - M E​

He had predicted five minutes. Gwyneira did everything in her power to expand it to six just to spite him.

She was used to always being in some kind of pain. Her body broke every day, and her blood was running thin. She panted, struggling to move as more electricity bolted through her. She was positive they let go of her, just to see her try to crawl away with one leg, for their entertainment. She was a circus animal to them, performing a great trick at the cost of terrible living conditions, terrible pain, and her freedom.

She finally counted the sixth minute tick by in her head. As another beating of the staff and surge of electricity bolted through her, she screamed in horrible agony. This was far from the worst she had suffered here, but it still hurt.

She looked up, sweating. Her reflection was in some smeared metal platform she was next to. She gazed into it. Her thin hospital gown was all she had, and her sweat made it wet and itchy. Numerous wires, chords, and sensors were hooked to her right now, to monitor the results of whatever lab test this one was. But what always got her were her eyes. Two amber pupils stared back at her, where her eyes used to be pure white like the Arkanians'. Her father did a good job tormenting her to get this, messing with her very generic material and playing with her traits. He managed to make this as just one result.

Not much time to dwell on that, however, as another beating and electrical surge came upon her.

She writhed. She screamed. She cried. Her thoughts drifted to her loved ones. She could hear Vulcan, being a brainless fool, looking back to her on a snowy mountain. His helmet failed to hide the smile on his face. She wanted it back. She wanted him back.

But that was unlikely to happen now. Manda seemed to be punishing her for existing. Tearing the love of her life from her, stripping her away from her buir and clan, stealing all she had, and decimating her slowly. When would it end? When would she finally die and see Eliz again? When would the pain finally stop? Ever? It had been so long... too long... too long...

The torture continued. Ever on and on.

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen rolled his eyes at the various laughter as he became the target of various satires from the clanmens and women around him. " The man asked for questions and I asked some so nerf off... Plus I've rolled with one of you before and that was one time too many..." He remembered Felucia like it was yesterday. Hell, the clone was the one that had to help the Jedi rescue Shai after she charged straight into a bunch of mutated rancors. That event was hard for anyone to forget.

The Clone gritted his teeth as he watched the group. Yes they had fire but it was unfocused, unwieldy... or atleast more than he could handle. Omen could only wonder how Shai kept them in line but he guessed the "looting" did that for her. The ARC Sergeant replied dryly to the Shivestian's quip, being in no mood to joke around."I'll have my helmet cam. That will be more than enough to document our little excursion."

The presence of Shai growling at him and ordering him around... her words... they just set off something that couldn't be contained. Her just ordering him around reminded him of working under the Jedi, both under the Silvers and back during the Clone Wars. He just wanted the assumption that she was better than him to stop... "Oh will you just stop yapping for once! This is the only time in the last few months that I have even talked to Kranak and I wanted to see how he is doing. He could be in a lot more trouble than he is in right now if it wasn't for me. Plus you aren't my squadleader and I'm not one of your goddang clansmen! And even if you were, why would I respect a two-bit horndog who can't think with anything besides her parts, almost missed their introductionary squad meeting for fighting a person whose wife you let into your bed, is all cushy with the imps somewhere else while her brothers slug it out in the trenches and is dating a crime boss who is probably snorting spice by the speeder load? Tell me why!" He would pull his helmet off violently before spiting at the dog's feet. "Aruetii..." The echo traveled through the room, making most of the Krayt yuppies drawback in surprise at the Clone's ill-temper. From what they had seen of him so far during this journey they had never seen the clone actually talk since he was usually either listening to others from the background or in his cabin with the door closed shut and locked. It was clear now there was a reason for that...

If Shai had anything to say or do in return for the Clone's outburst then he would meet it in kind. If not, the Clone would stalk from the meeting room and back into his cabin, locking the door up as tight as he can manage. He didn't need the others making fun of him as he tried to put a jetpack on for the first time in 800+ years. Where is a good Purrgil when you needed one...

Vulcan Krayt | Gwyneira Vizsla | Kranak Vizsla | Shai Maji

 

[Vulcan Krayt]

Objective I: Form a plan and ask questions
Location: Hyperspace, Aboard Shai's Freighter, Enroute To Mala, Outer Rim
Equipment: Sword, M.I. Beskar'gam Mk.1 M.I. 'Sunstroke' jetpack M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol, M.I. Model 12 shatter rifle x2, Thermal Detonators, Magnetic Detonators, Perun's Call
Tag: | Shai Maji | Gwyneira Vizsla | Kranak Vizsla | Sergeant Omen |

He has enough to blow up a large structure, nothing was missing or unloaded. Good, a Mandalorian maintains their gear. He sighed, he forgot whistling birds. He was thinking of getting some but didn't have the room for them.. yet. He'll be getting around to customising soon.

Vulcan stopped checking his gear to hear Shai is here, always a good time with is Alor, even if it is a grim task, he had a horrid thought that they were going to be too late and his big sister would be, dead or far gone to save. His pessimistic train of thought was thankfully derailed when he was shaken. Parantha, the triumph of explosives blew up the mountain, set the EE's economy back. He got a brand new weapon to try out for his efforts, crazy works, and it works well.

His concentration suddenly honed in on the quips back and forth between Omen and Shai, his mind focused on what Omen said to an acute point of clarity, he never knew that. He wanted to know what the Clone was talking about, did Shai do that? How did he know that? His mind was racing and his curiosity spiked, he raised a hand, the question on his lips, he was going to direct it at Kranak.

<"Did Shai really-">

"Osik!" A fellow Clanmate noticed Vulcan beginning to ask the predictable question, that they hoped he wouldn't. Jos Krayt got up from where he was and tapped Vulcan's helmet to shush him. Putting a finger on the forehead of the helmet to warn the youngster not to say another word. He looked relieved he caught the awkward question in time. Everyone else chuckled, tension somewhat broken by Vulcan's near-question.

This was not something they should be focusing on right now. They need to get the show on the road, pronto.

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Shattering​

Location: Hyperspace, Aboard Shai’s Freighter, Enroute To Mala, Outer Rim > Space Station
Local Time: N/A
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Search For Gwyn
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 2 (Minus the Backpack and Primary. Integrated SD Belt. + Goran’s Stand
Tags: Vulcan Krayt | Shai Maji | Sergeant Omen | Gwyneira Vizsla

​

The giant’s contemplatiing gaze would shift from Gwyn’ika’s younger brother and onto the Jango clone at the back of the mess hall turned to a makeshift briefing room as the clone raised his hand, and began his inquiries, mostly mission related in nature. The Alor’ad would hearken to him in silence, waiting for him to be finished with his inquiries before filling him in on the finer details of today’s operation.

”One, do these mad scientists have any armed personnel that aren’t stationary or for that matter starships? Two, where are we inserting? Are we just burning through to the storage area? Three, is there a terminal where we shut down all the turrets that will make us into swiss cheese? Four, please tell me you will be taking a vacation after this because we both know those red eyes aren’t from the cigarra smoke.”

Unfolding his arms, the giant flicked the ash off his cigarra on the full ashtray while he gave Omen a bitter smile as a silent response to his fourth statement. Although he would have preferred Omen to extend his concerns to him privately, he wasn’t the type to hold it against him. Like the others that gave a damn about him, the Jango clone genuinely cared for him; that much was certain. Just as he parted his lips to speak and answer his questions, a Krayt would beat him to the punch and cut in.

”You worry too much, schutta!” one spoke up among the group as the rest laughed. ”Clearly you’ve never rolled with Krayts. We make an entrance where we feel like it, we get in and get our sister. Dragons stick together, Gwyn’ika’s no exception.” Another declared with fire in his voice, earning a cheer from the rest.

Omen rolled his eyes at the various laughter as he became the target of various satires from the clansmen and women around him.”The man asked for questions and I asked some so nerf off… Plus I’ve rolled with one of you before and that was one time too many…”​

Although the giant of a Mandalorian raised an eyebrow at the Jango clone’s previous experience with Clan Krayt that he was not aware of until now, Omen’s retort to the harmless banter wouldn’t come as a surprise to him. Even though his harsh response disappointed the Alor’ad[1] a little, he understood where he was coming from. Some didn’t enjoy banter as much as others, even though it was harmless most of the time, thrown at one another to ease off the stress of upcoming battle. Plus, it usually gave men and women under arms all across the galaxy -Mandalorian and Aruetiise[2] alike- high spirits at the eve of a mission.

Raising the cigarra to his lips, the loud and proud warrior bunch in the room drowned out the giant’s soft chuckle at the banter thrown at the clone. He hadn’t gone into explaining the finer details of the operation, as he was aware of the Wardog’s clan’s specialization in ship boarding and fighting in confined spaces, that of a space station such as the one they would attack today. The Alor’ad had the privilege to fight alongside the Mandalorians of Clan Krayt alongside their Alor over the years in a number of theaters across the stars. He didn’t have to tell them how to do their job; they already knew what they were doing.

They were supremely qualified for what they were going to be doing today. That was only one of the reasons why he had opted to rely on his old friend’s clan assets, instead of The Enclave’s.

Momentarily, their laughter would die down only to be rekindled a few moments later as the Wardog roared over them; her sonorous voice drowning out the crowd. Taking a deep drag from his cigarra, he maintained his silence; his gaze shifted to the cybernetic red eyes of his old friend as she spoke.

”We’re bringin’ our kiddo home. And once we’ve taken and looted all we can… we’ll turn that station into a light-show big enough to be seen from Kestri.” Shai spoke up over the crowd as she stood next to Vulcan.

”And Omen..” Her attention turned to the Clone standing apart from the rest. ”I hope you brought a notebook along for this ride. You’re about to see the strongest clan in the galaxy do their job.” She quipped with a chuckle, soon joined by the cheers and laughter of her clan.

”An’ the Beast of Panatha will be joinin’ us as well.” The man gripped Vulcan’s shoulder and shook him heartily.

The ARC Sergeant replied dryly to the Shistavanen’s quip. ”I’ll have my helmet cam. That will be more than enough to document our little excursion.”​

Although he had his own reservations about her statement, the giant still cracked a heartfelt smile at the Wardog. The cheer and laughter of the men and women around him was contagious, to say the least. Claiming to be the strongest clan was a stretch, but their prowess in combat was undeniable. With the Wardog at the helm, no clan waged war quite like the Krayts did. He had seen it for himself, long ago.

With nothing to say or add to the details of the operation, and with no other questions besides Omen’s, the giant concluded the mission briefing. If he could find the opportunity, he would give the Jango clone a quick rundown of the game plan of the Krayts, in case he was unfamiliar with the way they operate. As the warriors began to slowly spill out the makeshift briefing room and to the freighter’s hangar and get ready, he remained behind and began re-analyzing the mission details, the scan of the station and the intelligence report provided to him by his contacts for the last time. Feeling the Wardog’s gaze over him, he would raise his head from the holotable and look at her.

”My boys are thirsty for blood. They’ll fight like hell. We’re gettin’ her back. But Kran, I need you to have a clear mind for this.

The giant casually raised his cigarra to his lips, and took one last drag at it before responding. “Don’t worry about me. My mind is clear as the waters of Lake Htagir,” he assured her as he turned his head to the side slightly to blow smoke away from her, while casually stubbing the cigarra out on the ashtray. “I’ll be fine, ori’vod.” He was sober for a week now. He had the almost irresistible urge to shoot morphine up his arm, or do a line of spice every now and then, but he kept the urges in check. The signs of withdrawal from the drugs were significant, but he would remain strong; especially now that he saw the glimmer of hope in the search for his daughter, even though whether she was alive or not remained ambiguous.

Assured, the Wardog then shifted his attention at the Jango clone as the giant shifted his attention back at the mission related data on the holotable.

”And Omen, if you call him out like that again in public, I’ll feed you your teeth. You watch your tongue.” She threatened with a growl as she glared at him.

”Oh will you stop yapping for once! This is the only time in the last few months that I have even talked to Kranak and I wanted to see how he is doing. He could be in a lot more trouble than he is in right now if it wasn’t for me. Plus you aren’t my squad leader and I’m not one of your goddang clansmen! And even if you were, why would I respect a two-bit horndog who can’t think with anything besides her parts, almost missed their introductory squad meeting for fighting a person whose wife you let into your bed, is all cushy with the imps somewhere else while her brothers slug it out in the trenches and is dating a crime boss who is probably snorting spice by the speeder load? Tell me why?” He would pull his helmet off violently before spitting at the dog’s feet. ”Aruetii…” The echo traveled through the room, making most of the Krayt yuppies drawback in surprise at the Clone’s ill-temper.​

His brows furrowed in displeasure with each word coming out of Omen’s mouth, but his final comment at his long time comrade earned the clone his barely restrained ire. If looks could cause bodily harm, Omen would have been incapacitated. He gave him a death glare in silent response. Sure, she could have been called many things by others, but questioning her honor? Getting called an aruetii?[3] That was too far, even for the stoic giant. If it wasn’t for the importance of today’s mission, Kranak would have him eat his insult on his comrade’s behalf, but no. Not today. Not now. All he could do for now is make sure whatever past the two of them shared did not interfere with the attempt at finding Gwyn’ika. He didn’t worry about any problems coming from Shai, but he couldn’t say he knew Omen as well as he knew the old girl.

But he placed deep trust in him nevertheless. The giant knew he would put the success of the operation first, and his personal feelings for the Alor’ad’s old friend second.

His glare would follow the Jango clone as he walked out the briefing room and leaving the giant’s condemning sight, he would catch Vulcan raising his hand for a question at the corner of his eye.

<”Did Shai really-”>

Understanding what the young one was about to ask, the lad was quickly silenced by a Krayt nearby with haste. Shifting his gaze at the young one, he chuckled softly alongside the others that hadn’t left the briefing room yet. Although a trained Foundling, and having quite the number of kills to his name, the young one was still very much pure as the driven snow. The giant let out a muffled sigh as he turned off the holotable, and reached for the helmet sitting beside the ashtray. Picking it up, the Alor’ad slipped on his Executioner Pattern helmet; the obsidian black visor flickered to life with a white glimmer as he walked around the table and towards Vulcan. <”Come on, son,”> He said, gently patting him on the back as he walked beside him towards the mess hall’s exit. <”Let’s go find your sister.”>

Insertion​

<”...Five, four, three, two, one,”> Countdown reaching zero, the light freighter shook as they translated out of hyperspace, having reached their destination. Standing behind the pilot’s seat with his arms crossed, the giant laid his eyes on the dead, barren world of Mala.

And the space station orbiting the planet.

<”Two minutes to low-gravity infiltration.”> the pilot said over the ship’s intercom, giving the warriors on board a heads-up. The jammer had kicked on the moment they had exited hyperspace, effectively cloaking them from radar and scanner based detection. The giant gave the Krayt pilot a pat on the shoulder as he turned around and left the cockpit, making his way to the ship’s cargo hold at a brisk pace, joining his vode for the mission.

The bulkhead doors before him parted, allowing the giant passage into the cargo hold. He gave the warriors of Clan Krayt and his friends a curt nod of his head as he reached for his verpine battle rifle leaned against a large crate. Slinging the rifle over his chest, the giant parted the crowd of Mandalorians in front of him as he walked towards the cargo hold’s control panel beside the cargo ramp. <”Pressurize helmets and seal suits.”> The giant instructed them as he began the controlled depressurization sequence of the cargo hold. The bulkheads sealed shut behind them, with the oxygen in the cargo hold sucked away into their respective tanks gradually. Muttering a verbal command, the giant’s beskar’gam sealed and pressurized, starting to draw breath from the oxygen supply in his armor as he walked away from the control panel, joining the others in the crowd.

<”Ten thousand meters…”> The pilot chimed in over the comlink, notifying them of their relative distance to the station with each passing klick[4]. They were rapidly closing the distance now. As soon as the pilot reached the five thousand meter mark, the giant lowered the large cargo ramp at the rear of the light freighter. Lowering with a sensated mechanical whirr, the ramp lowered; the giant’s visor stared out at the unending, black void stretching out before them all as the ship continued its rapid approach.

<”Three thousand… two thousand… engaging reverse thrusters,”> The freighter began to tangibly slow down afterwards, just enough for the Mandalorians to be able to correct their course with their jetpacks and rocket boots, lest they would overshoot their intended dropzone over the station, burning too much fuel cells to reduce their initial velocity.

<”Nine hundred… Eight hundred… Seven hundred… Six hundred… Jump, jump, jump!”>

As soon as the light freighter had reached the desirable distance from the space station, the giant leaped out of the cargo hold and began his rapid, controlled descent onto the ringlike station, activating his rocket boots occasionally in short bursts to correct his course. He would be breaching the facility from the top floor, where the command center was located at.

​

Spoiler: Translations, Terms and Abbreviations

[1] Alor’ad = Captain.
[2] Aruetiise = Traitors, foreigners, outsiders.
[3] Aruetii = Traitor, foreigner, outsider.
[4] Klick = Term used to denote a distance of one kilometer/one thousand meters.

 

[Sergeant Omen]

The sound of a helmet banging against the bulkhead was definitely present in Omen's cabin as he tried his damnest to get the rather bulky jetpack into place. His flame-making machine wasn't the only reason he was cursing up a storm. He knew Shai wasn't an Aruetii... Hell, if there was anything that shouted the general aspects of a gutless Mando it was her. All he wanted was for her to stop treating him like a foundling. Was that too much to ask?
Either way, the situation needed to be finished and fast. Shai would quickly find a message scroll across her hud from Omen. I'm sorry... You aren't Aruetii... You are in fact more mando than I will ever be, planet-sized ego included... I just got backed into a corner and didn't know what else to say... Now that is over, lets go get our girl back.

After a moment another line would show up.

P.S. Your opinion on Jedi still sucks XP

Hey, he had to stand on his principles on something right?

The smaller Jango Clone followed the bigger giant out of the freighter's cargo hold, floating down through the blackness of space but unlike the giant, his boots failed to activate, sending him spiraling out of control towards a large bridge window. NERF, WHY DID THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN NOW! He had to quickly adjust before using his jetpack to lessen the impact only missed smacking against the station's metal skin. Thank god the magnetic hand clamps still worked or he would have been stuck like a bug against a windshield between endless space and the station's heavy metal. The demo expert quickly scrambled to set demo charges on four corners of the station's skin for the Alor's grand entrance. "Ready whenever you are traat'aliit alor. Just say the word."

Kranak Vizsla , Vulcan Krayt , Shai Maji , Gwyneira Vizsla

 

[Shai Maji]

Shai merely glared with a daring grin as Omen chewed her out and berated her. In the corner of her eye she could see Kranak's glare as the Clone continued to insult her. She said nothing as he turned to leave, but the last comment earned a quip from her. "Princess." She grumbled, slipping her helmet on. "I think it's safe to say we don't like each other very much." She snickered as she looked at Kranak.

Her gaze turned to Vulcan as he was hushed and led away... she needed to watch her mouth around him. He still had a few years to go... technically. If she wanted to get hypocritical, she could tell him to watch it. Luckily that wasn't a concern for now, parenting would come later.

In the cargo hold of her freighter, Shai got ready with the rest of her men around her. Snapping her shield onto her left vambrace, She deployed and collapsed it a few times to make sure it was operational. The rest did the same around her with their shields, a symbol for the clan at this point. Her attention shifted to Omen as he entered the bay as her gaze narrowed behind her visor. She read his message, though she saved her response for this moment. "Yo Omen." She spoke up as she leaned against a crate. "You wanna apologize, you do it face to face." She collapsed her shield again and clipped her rifle to the side of her backpack. "Alright ladies! Let's get ready for this, you all know what you need to do!" She shouted over the idle chatter in the cargo bay.

**********​

They waited patiently as the freighter broke out of hyperspace and decelerated on its approach to the station. The moment the cargo ramp lowered, they all spilled out and flew towards the station with their jetpacks. :: First squad, go with Omen and Kranak! Second squad with me and Vulcan. Combatants you drop like a bad habit. Soft targets, you stun and tie down. We might have use for them later. :: She radioed to the entire group as they broke off into their respective groups.

The first squad bunched up and readied their blasters, waiting for Kranak's word. Shai led the second squad further down towards another part of the station. :: We'll hammer them from another angle, we'll meet you on the other side. If you find anything, let us know and we'll come to you. :: She told Omen and Kranak as she flew to the bottom of the base, all the way to another part. First Squad would be the decoy, draw their attention before Second Squad busted in and sowed confusion.

Once they reached a docking ring meant for ships, four warriors raised their hands and plasma torches came to life, strong enough to cut through hulls with ease. All they needed was the go-ahead from Kranak and they would start breaching.

Before then?

:: Hey, Kosta, did you see the last episode of 'Days of Our Lives'? Man it's gettin' good with this season. ::

:: Graves, I will literally plasma torch your face if you spoil it for me. ::

Gwyneira Vizsla Kranak Vizsla Sergeant Omen Vulcan Krayt

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Tags: Kranak Vizsla Shai Maji Sergeant Omen Vulcan Krayt

I - A M - T E R R I F I E D​

She panted on the floor. Blood trickled from her mouth, sweat coated her body. She was shaking, unsure whether or not she could take any more beatings and electrocutions. Yet, her cruel father could always tell when unconsciousness threatened to give her respite. She realized that she no longer was being struck, and strained to hear what was going on. She lacked the strength to lift her head from the ground.

The voices sounded so distant. That was normal. Another transfer? Another test? Oh. What were they going to do now?

In a couple moments, the wires and machines were being yanked from her feeble frame. She had lost so much weight. She was fed enough to sustain, but not enough to satisfy. Just another living condition here. She was being dragged. Her leg dangled behind her, sweat and crimson being left in a trial. Her wet, white hair clung to her face, but also snagged on corners and were stepped on by her oppressors boots. She lulled, looking up at the same white lights with drooping eyes.

Eventually, she was dragged into a darker room with various rhythms and beepings of mechanical equipment and machines. She recognized this room. It had the bacta tank, which so many times were filled with more harmful chemicals than good. She grimaced as her father, he must have traveled with them, spoke.

"Prepare her to bathe."

Oh. Another chemical pool test. She really hated these. Alas, she closed her eyes and accepted her fate.

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Shattering​

Location: Mala, Outer Rim > Space Station
Local Time: N/A
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Search For Gwyn
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: Loadout 2 (Minus the Backpack and Primary. Integrated SD Belt. + Goran’s Stand
Tags: Gwyneira Vizsla | Sergeant Omen | Vulcan Krayt | Shai Maji

​

The cut away circular durasteel plating fell on the metal floor with a loud clang; the white hot burning rim of the hole in the ceiling slowly began to pale away and cool off as the giant rappelled down into the hallway with one of his particle blaster pistols drawn. His combat boots touched the ground with a muffled thud after his rapid insertion. Taking a few steps deeper into the middle of the hallway, he made way for the rest of the fireteam assigned under his command; his blaster pistol remained trained at the corner of the hallway a dozen feet in front of him. Soon enough, the warriors of Clan Krayt assigned to his command joined him, making their way down the hole in the ceiling and regrouping with the Alor’ad[1] in the hallway.

<”Shai be advised, First Squad has successfully infiltrated the space station,”> he said calmly. Although seemingly calm from the outside, anxiety was starting to settle within him. It slowly but surely began grasping his soul, as the fear of the possibility of finding his daughter’s lifeless corpse in the facility began to take hold of his mind. Shaking his head lightly, as if trying to disperse the gathering invisible, ominous dark clouds above his buy’ce[2], the giant managed to keep his composure for now; although he pushed back the slowly rising tide of dread, anxiety and fear to the back of his mind, they weren’t quite locked away. They would be a constant, unceasing reminder of the stakes every second of the mission until the fate of his daughter was finally revealed to him, for better or worse.

With what seemed to be an eternity for the Alor’ad finally passing, but a mere moment in reality, the last vod[3] had regrouped with the rest of the squad as the giant transmitted his sitrep[4] to the Wardog. <”We’re enroute to the command centre now. Two minutes out,”> the giant muttered while he and the fellow vode behind him began making their way towards the hallway bending to their right, as they formed a single file line behind the Vizsla; gentle thuds of their combat boots and the soft shuffling of their web gear accompanied them.

Kranak’s buy’ce gently tilted to the side as unfamiliar footfalls of two individuals reached his ears from around the corner. Halting swiftly, the giant extended his left arm to his side and raised his left hand to head level; fingers extended and joined, he signaled the squad to hold. It didn’t take long for him to hear another set of footsteps from their rear soon after the formation halted. The footsteps were slowly drawing nearer from both sides, to their entry point. They had to be patrols dispatched to that corridor with the intent of investigating the loud metallic clatter, he assumed. <”Cabur, take them out quietly.”> Ordering the vod at the rear of the formation, the Vizsla muttered in a low tone over the First Squad’s comlink as he activated the sound dampener on his belt. With the flick of a button on his right vambrace, the device turned on silently. Waiting for the two contacts to emerge from the corner and in front of him, the giant patiently waited; his fingers placed just so with the left hand steadying the right, as the particle pistol raised just at the perfect angle.

With the sound dampening belt activated, he could no longer hear the patrol encroaching on their position, or anything for that matter; besides for his own breathing inside his helmet. It did not take long however, for the tall shadows of the guards to be cast over the floor, poking around the corner and into the hallway. A mere moment after their shadows were revealed to him and the squad, the giant’s gaze met the pair of emotionless facial features of the lightly armed and armored Arkanian guards as they rounded the corner. Their blank expressions would swiftly change over the course of a single second, expressing surprise and confusion, with the latter plastered on their face for the rest of eternity, as a bright blue particle blaster bolt embedded itself into each of their upper left chest.

The blaster bolts burning through their light armor and flesh with sickening ease, the pair of guards fell to the ground lifeless on their backs with faint white fumes of smoke trailing into the air from their blaster wounds; the both of them shot through the heart, death had claimed their souls long before they had fell on the cold durasteel floor of the space station. Turning off the SD belt after effectively and silently dispatching the sentries, the giant glanced over his black command pauldron on his left shoulder and at the far rear end of the formation; just in time to see the patrol of Arkanian guards approaching them from the rear getting cut down by Cabur’s stealth carbine. The burst of colorless blaster bolts, invisible to the naked eye, shot from the internally silenced blaster carbine silently mowed down the second two-man patrol with ease. Satisfied with the expected efficiency from the Krayt warrior, the giant gave the Mandalorian a curt, approving nod as the man turned to face the front of the formation.

Turning back to face the corner, the giant threw a knife hand forward twice, signaling the squad to continue moving forward.

They would reach the station’s command centre shortly.

​

<”Go, go.”> The giant said as he tucked the field security overloader back into his utility pouch after successfully scrambling the automated turret on the ceiling by the command centre’s entrance. With its systems overloaded, the turret was forced to restart. It would not remain inoperable for long, however; they had to breach and clear the command centre quickly and deactivate the internal defenses and automated turrets of the station before then.

<”Take up a breaching formation on that blast door.”> At his command as he put away the field security overloader, the squad of hardened warriors under his command passed him swiftly and assumed positions on both sides of the door. <”Just a few seconds…”> Beviin, one of the two slicers in the giant’s squad said as the Krayt plucked the blast door’s control panel off its socket with a thirteen inch vibro-knife, revealing the wiring and circuitry behind it.

Taking up positions at the rear of the formation this time, the giant held rear security with his blaster pistol raised at the way they had come while their slicer went about overriding the locks of the blast door. Sparks jutted out of the socket, accompanied by soft sizzle and crackle of electricity as the Krayt slicer hotwired the console to open the blast doors.

<”Slicing complete! Everyone set?”> Looking over his shoulder, the slicer inquired as he held a cable in each hand; their tips sheared off with the wiring poking out of the plastoid outer shell of the cables. Glancing at the Mandalorian over his right shoulder, the giant nodded in acknowledgement. <”Hit it.”> With a curt nod, the slicer touched the two wires to one another; the fizzling electricity from the wires was shortly drowned out by the mechanical whirring and the hiss of the blast door’s hydraulics as its locking mechanism disengaged, with the blast door retracting to their housing to the sides, granting passage for the Mandalorian squad.

As soon as the blast doors retracted, the breaching maneuver was set into motion with incredible speed, brutality and practiced precision of movement, as members of the First Squad began to pour into the command centre and fan out; the muzzle brakes of their blasters flashed with each squeeze of the hair trigger. The Arkanian security detail, fatally oblivious of the Mandalorians’ intrusion at the time, were cut down on their stations before any of them could react in a significant way. Only a mere handful of them had the time to react to the brutal aggression of the Krayt warriors under the Vizsla’s command; several of them had produced blaster pistols from their holsters before several blaster bolts slammed them down on the ground.

With the last hostile dispatched, the brutal, one sided firefight was over just as swiftly as it began. <”Confirm your kills,”> the giant said in a cold tone as he held rear security, watching the corridor they’d come from. In response to the giant, sporadic blaster fire flared up a few times, as the Krayts made sure the dead stayed dead while they roamed around the command centre.

<”Shai, be advised, command centre takeover successful. Initiating jamming sequence of enemy comms and decommissioning internal defenses now.”> Kranak said, raising the Wardog over the comlink before providing her a sitrep.

<”Beviin, get to work on the internal defenses and decommission them.”>

<”I’ll do you one better, chief. I’ll turn their guns against the karkers.”> The young slicer smugly said as he nonchalantly pulled away the lifeless body of a guard sitting on a chair, his upper body slumped on the console before him. Falling onto the ground like a sack of meiloorun with a meaty thud, the Mandalorian set the rifle on his lap and produced his custom datapad and several other tools to slice the console before him.

<”One of these karkers should have code cylinders on them,”> he said as he hooked up one end of his connection cable to the GIB port of the console, and the other to his datapad. <”Any of you psychos killed a brass hat by any chance?”> Beviin inquired with a quip at his brothers and sisters in arms as he began the process of bypassing the console’s security wall. Code cylinder or not, he had to slice into the console and deal with the automated turrets before the turret outside flickered to life.

<”I’ll see if I can find you one.”> A’den said, starting to check the pockets of the slain guards to Beviin what he asked for.

<”Omen, get to work on the station’s comms array. No word gets in or out of this station. Scramble their short range comlinks afterwards.”> The giant ordered as he tapped the shoulder of a Krayt near him. Understanding the gesture, the two switched places, with Kom’rk holding rear security now, instead of the Vizsla. <”Hurry up, we don’t have much time.”> Holstering the particle blaster pistol, the Alor’ad began to pace around the command centre, walking past and stepping over the bodies while the slicers worked their magic.

It wasn’t long before movement in one of the many screens on a console caught his eye. Halting in his tracks, the giant spared the screen a casual glance for a moment. The screen was showing live footage of one of the hallways through a security camera; similar to the ones he had scrambled with his field security overloader to remain undetected until the very last moment. After a few seconds, the screen switched to the live footage of another camera in the same level, showing an empty hallway.

Pushing away the dead Arkanian guard bent over the console’s controls, the giant enlarged the footage on the screen using the controls, and switched watching a singular security camera’s live feed to all the cameras in the facility at once. They could always do with more intel about enemy movements inside the facility, or anything that would help them find Gwyn’ika.

The giant started to go over each live camera feed separated in rectangular tabs on the large screen before him methodically and nonchalantly at first, but his heart skipped a beat for a moment as he laid eyes upon the footage from one of the operation theaters. Frozen in place at the sight of a group of Arkanians in white lab coats, ripping Gwyn’ika from tubes, wiring and machinery alike, dragging her undernourished, pale and naked body by the hair towards a large, bacta tank-like contraption on the other side of the laboratory.

A crimson streak on the durasteel floor was left in his daughter’s wake. She was missing a leg!

​

The scene shook him to the core, leaving him slightly doubled up, as if an invisible foe punched him in the gut; the air out of him. He could feel his heart pounding against his broad chestplate, rapidly, as he tried to regain his composure.

Processing the heart wrenching sight displayed to him; his jaw agape, eyes widened at the sight, the giant took a step back from the console as a chill ran down his neck. He felt joy, regret, anguish and unimaginable fury in the span of a second; all at once. He silently rejoiced to see her alive after so long; regret for thinking she was dead after being missing for so long, with the search for her remaining fruitless until today, which had drove him to the brink of suicide not too long ago; soul-shattering anguish for failing to find her sooner; and unimaginable fury to those that were responsible of her agony.

<”Shai,”> He said, his voice coming out quieter than a whisper in deep sorrow over their private comlink channel. Swallowing the building up lump in his throat, along with the pain and anguish within him, he closed his eyes shut and shook his head at an attempt to focus on the mission and keep his chit together before he spoke again a few seconds later.

Now, only the unquenchable thirst for vengeance, immense hatred and burning anger remained in his mind; they were kept in check by his discipline and training, for now. <”She’s alive. Level two; Laboratory A3, past the first two operating theaters down the hallway. Meet you there.”> The giant said, the rage within him apparent in his voice. Awaiting no response from the Wardog, the giant swiftly turned around and broke into a sprint out of the command centre. Realizing what’s up, the First Squad split in half, with one half remaining in the command centre to keep it secured and the other half sprinting a few meters behind Kranak; following the Vizsla’s lead, deeper into the station to reach Gwyn’ika.

​

Spoiler: Translations and Abbreviations

[1] Alor’ad = Captain.
[2] Buy’ce = Helmet.
[3] Vod = Brother/Sister, Comrade.
[4] Sitrep= Situation report.

 

[Vulcan Krayt]

Objective I: Destroy the nasty station and everything/everyone in it
Location: Hyperspace, Aboard Shai's Freighter, Enroute To Mala, Outer Rim
Equipment: Sword, M.I. Beskar'gam Mk.1 M.I. 'Sunstroke' jetpack M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol, M.I. Model 12 shatter rifle x2, Thermal Detonators, Magnetic Detonators, Perun's Call
Tag: | Shai Maji | Gwyneira Vizsla | Kranak Vizsla | Sergeant Omen |

​

Stress was there, it burned through him like fire, but he must not be stressed. He wasn't the one in a lab, so he should feel lucky it wasn't him. But why did it have to be Gwyn? He ended up pacing instead of eating even though sweet fatty foods were very appetising as he glanced at them. But that is not important. Afterwards, he along with his fellow Vod had started to prepare and breech the station once they have arrived at their target.

Restlessness turned to anger and brotherly rage, but he kept it barely noticeable. Jos had warned that too much seriousness at his age is going to burn him out. Vulcan only half listened, he was focused on one thing and one thing only, getting Gwyn back and hurting those who took her.

Jos gave him a tap on the helmet to bring the youngster back to the ground. Vulcan took a sudden swipe at the Kel-dor in both anger and frustration but regretfully held his hands up in an apology. All he could do is wait for the breeching to be completed, he went back to counting his explosives in his head. To focus his racing mind. He soon began to think of the mountain and how they conquered it by themselves, they told their Alors about it and showed them where their flag was.

Those were happy times, then everything had to change, why can't it just go back to where it was? But the reality is a cruel master.

They were suddenly inside the station; he didn't notice until he was put down onto the floor where he was picked up. He needs to focus; he gave his head a shake before he ventured further into the station with his Clan. He was in no mood to play nice; no one was going to. Vulcan was angry and itching to take it out at something.

Some unfortunate personnel caught his eye, they are the enemy and something to vent at. Usually, unarmed persons were off-limits, but they were holding his sister hostage, they hurt her by proxy. He went after them, Jos shouting at him to come back, too late.

Jos shook his head, he noticed that Vulcan always deflects and dodges questions about how he is. A curt, ''I'm fine.'' That was all the youngster had said for the last hour. Jos didn't want to know what happened as Vulcan marched back, bloodstains and all.

Hours seem to pass with more bodies piling up as the expedition continued, they had to be getting close by now, but so far, they have nothing. But then after reaching the control room, he reached Kranak's side and his vision was filled with a terrible sight, his big sister in a tube with stuff poking out of her. He was frozen to the spot staring transfixed on the image in abject horror.

He couldn't speak just whimper something incoherently, mashing Mando'a, Ubese and Basic into a single jumbled up sentence. It took a fellow Krayt to realise exactly what is going on, grabbed Vulcan under his arms and pulled him back and kept him away from the front and away from the picture of Gwyn. They knew by the look and body language of The Giant, they realised something terrible is happening to Gwyn.

All they can do now is keep up and eliminate hostiles that may stop them in their mission. Once a Mandalorian is locked onto an objective, nothing short of a star exploding will stop them. Especially when one of their own is in mortal peril.

Cursing his stature, he had to sprint to keep up as they delved deeper into the place and hopefully towards Gwyn. They are going to bring her home and wipe this poodoo forsaken dump from the map. He hoped he would press the button.

 

[Sergeant Omen]

The Clone had stayed behind in the back of the group, letting the Krayt boys work their magic. It had worked out so far. When they reached the Station's Main Hub and Kranak asked him to deactivate the station's comms array, he did so with only a nod. Moving over to a console, he shut down the communications array and jammed the station's internal comm net. Soon all the remaining guards would hear would be static. He finished off his orders by producing lighting from his gauntlets, reducing the console to cinders. "Comms down... permanently..."

It didn't take long for the sounds of footsteps to come towards their rear security. It seemed that these guards weren't so mindless after all. The Clone Trooper motioned for Kom'rk to hold his fire. It was time for the show to begin. Activating his gauntlets, he shot out lighting from his gauntlets into the crowd of guards. Hearing their screams as their bodies charred was... satisfying after what they had done to Gywn. Wow... this mission was different than the usual. Usually, he hated taking lives but this... this just wasn't a mission. It was a rescue of a friend who needed them very badly before their light was snuffed out for good. "Alor'ad... About 6 targets down on our backline down but who knows how many there are in total. Get her... now!"

Tag: Shai Maji , Kranak Vizsla , Vulcan Krayt , Gwyneira Vizsla

 

[Shai Maji]

Once the words burst through Shai's comms, the docking hatch blew open and the team flew into the base before the emergency doors could slam shut and lock them out. :: Copy that, team two infiltrated successfully as well. Keep us posted, we're off to start some fires. :: She responded sharply with a snicker as she motioned for the others to follow.

True to their orders, the Krayts dispatched any combatants and knocked out the scientists they found before binding them. They moved quickly and loudly to draw whatever security there was onboard towards their position. Kranak's team couldn't afford any distractions or delays in their trip towards the bridge. "Morlyn, take a few guys and rig the place up." She ordered as she turned to face one of her guys and tossed her satchel of thermal detonators at him. "Bonus points if you find the main reactor as well." She chuckled with a growl in her voice, a gesture soon matched by her men as they glanced around. "You got it, boss. Those scientists back there might be useful as well." Morlyn turned to look at one of the terrified researchers, the gears starting to turn in his head.

While the man's team was busy making improvised bomb vests for the scientists and using them as escorts around the station, Shai and the remainder of her team held their position as they studied the maps. At last, she heard her friend's voice in her comms again, briefing her of the situation. She paused for a moment, looking at the rest of her men then at the holomap in front of them. :: That's right around the corner of us, we'll be right there. :: She responded as she gestured to her men to follow.

The team of Mandalorians sprinted and jetpacked through the facility, dropping anyone in their paths and leaving a trail of explosives at anything that looked important. Barely a few minutes passed until Shai's team stormed into the hallway and secured the laboratory. All that was left was the lab itself with its occupants.

:: Secure the area, nobody gets in or out. We wait for Kranak to link up with us before we blow those charges. :: The Wardog ordered as she knelt down and waited with her men for Kranak's arrival.

Vulcan Krayt Kranak Vizsla Sergeant Omen Gwyneira Vizsla

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Tags: Kranak Vizsla Shai Maji Sergeant Omen Vulcan Krayt

F E A R​

It stung.

Her bare skin felt the ever present ache of acid in the bath. Desperately keeping her eyes closed, she twitched in response to the pain in this tank. The scientists could be heard outside, the liquid distorting what they said. At first, it was the usual. Documenting the results of whatever they were testing this time, talking about what they wanted for lunch perhaps.

But then, panic. Gwyn's own panic rose as she heard concerned shouting. Was something going wrong? She felt nothing out of the ordinary - aside the usual pain, that was. But she heard blaster fire. Blaster fire? What-

She was struggling not to open her eyes. Without the Force, she was unable to figure out any of what was going on. If raiders were here, did that mean she could beg them to kill her too? If it was some kind of justice force, would they try to help her get back home? Or maybe, it was nothing, and she was still trapped here.

She grimaced, swimming to the top of the tank, where the liquid did not fill the container completely. Once up, she grimaced and opened her eyes. Through the breathing apparatus, it was difficult to see, and liquid was dripping into her eyes, burning her. But as she looked on, she was grimacing in pain as the two scientists hastily pulled out blasters for self defense and ducked behind some machinery.

Whatever was going on, was it Gwyn's ticket out of here?

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Shattering​

Location: Mala, Space Station
Local Time: N/A
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Rescue Gwyn
Secondary Objective: Execute On-Site Personnel
Equipment: Loadout 2 (Minus the Backpack and Primary. Integrated SD Belt. + Goran’s Stand
Tags: Vulcan Krayt | Shai Maji | Gwyneira Vizsla | Sergeant Omen

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The particle blaster pistols dual wielded in the giant’s hands shrieked out a distinctive, high pitched howl with each squeeze of their hair trigger as the Alor’ad[1] continued his sprint, firing on the move as he made his way to the operating theaters of the station; The lightly armed and armored security detail that were unfortunate enough to cross paths with the Vizsla simmering with wrath, and his squad, were mercilessly gunned down with minimal resistance from the station’s defenders. The guards were starting to make a hasty defense of their assigned sectors to defend, but it was apparent their situational awareness was handed a considerable blow with their communications jammed; they had Omen to thank for his endeavors to disrupt their enemy’s commlinks.

Sprinting past several fresh kills in the corridor with his squad in tow, the giant rounded the corner with his blasters raised; only to be immediately lowered to a low ready stance upon seeing the Wardog knelt besides the wall near the door and her squad behind her, amongst several unmoving bodies of on-site research personnel and security detail.

As the giant gradually slowed down to take up breaching positions right across the Wardog, the floor gently trembled underneath the giant’s combat boots; several long winded salvos of muffled -yet perceivably loud- heavy repeater fire erupted across the space station’s levels. The smug voice of the slicer assigned to the Vizsla’s squad chimed in over the comlink a moment after the guns had let loose.

<”Target acquisition matrices sliced; any armed individual dressed in anything but beskar’gam’s[2] getting gunned down,>” Beviin said merrily.

He was glad to have avoided the business end of the automated turrets. As much as he and the warriors of Clan Krayt had the means to take them out without any significant casualties, they would have been a thorn in their side to deal with, and inherently slow down their progress, forcing them to suffer the consequences of losing their momentum and element of surprise during the assault.

The giant gave a curt nod of his head in acknowledgement. <”Good work,”> Looking over his right shoulder, the Vizsla silently nodded his head at the locked blast door while momentarily keeping his gaze at Atin as the giant holstered the particle pistol in his left hand. Understanding the Alor’ad’s gesture, the demolition expert of the squad gave a sharp nod at the Vizsla and briskly walked past him; the Mandalorian’s blaster rifle was suspended over over his chest plate by the blaster’s sling as he reached for a low-yield breaching charge from the tactical satchel on his back.

The breaching charge firmly sat in place directly on top of the locking mechanism of the blast door with a muffled thump as it magnetized on the blast door. With the breaching charge set and the electrical firing device in his hands, Atin swifty backed away from the door and took his place in the breaching formation. <”Charge is set and ready to detonate.”>

The giant glanced at the demolition expert over his right shoulder as he reached for a flash grenade from his grenade bandolier, then shifted his gaze at the Wardog in front of him. The giant gave her an inquiring nod of his buy’ce[3], voicelessly asking her if she was ready to execute the breach.

As soon as the Vizsla got the go ahead from the Alor, he would give the order to execute the breaching maneuver.

It’s locking mechanism blown up in the wake of the low-yield breaching charge with a muffled boom, the blast door mechanically hissed as it retracted to its housing; a faint cloud of smoke left in the wake of the concentrated explosion began to slowly fill into the laboratory, wafting in the air. A hail of red blaster bolts began to slam against the durasteel wall into the hallway as the pair of panicked scientists, rightfully afraid for their lives, began to preemptively open fire against the Mandalorians right outside.

Amidst the faint smoke and the blaster bolts, a metallic, palm sized cylinder was chucked into the laboratory from behind the doorway. A deafeningly loud bang and a blinding, fulminant white flash soon filled the room, with the blaster fire momentarily ceased. Capitalizing on the stunning effect the flash grenade had on the pair of scientists inside, the giant stepped into the room with his particle pistol raised the moment after the flash grenade had gone off; the blaster set to overcharge. His squad elements followed him closely with a few feet spacing, starting to rapidly fan out to the left and cover that sector against other possible contacts.

Immediately snapping on one of them upon acquiring a target, the giant squeezed the blaster’s trigger as he walked towards the machinery and scientific equipment the pair of lab coats were using as cover. With a thunderous shriek, the overcharged blue particle bolt tore away everything above the scientist’s manubrium in a shower of bloody gore. Subsequently, the Arkanian scientist’s body fell on the ground lifeless with a meaty thud; the mangled, blown off remains of his collarbones and upper thorax jutted out the cooked flesh as his blood flowed freely onto his snow white lab coat and the ground; blood, gray matter and small to large chunks of parietal bone splattered on the ceiling began to slowly dribble down onto the cold, durasteel floor.

With the last hostile eliminated, the giant holstered his blaster pistol and briskly walked towards the contraption Gwyn’ika was forcefully put inside. He could see his daughter’s naked silhouette, distorted heavily by the sickly green liquid she was dipped in. The Vizsla’s heart began to beat rapidly; the sudden spike of his heart rate clearly visible in the giant’s vital display as he stood in front of the tank. Upon nearing the contraption, his glance darted around the laboratory to find a console connected to the tank in order to get his daughter out of there. He didn’t have to look too far, as his gaze met the blinking lights of the console right besides the tank. Using the console beside the contraption, the giant swiftly initiated the sequence to empty whatever liquid was filled into the tank.

With a mechanical hum, the liquid inside the tank drained away, albeit at a speed that seemed like forever for the giant. Failing to find a piece of clothing to cover up Gwyn’ika, the giant ripped his long black Kama[4].The tank had already drained halfway, but the Vizsla could wait no longer. He had to get her out of there now.

Landing a precise punch right on the magnetic lock of the tank’s lid with his crushgaunts, the piece of glass around the lock gave way under the giant’s strength. Pushing the forcefully open lid aside, the liquid contents within the tank spilled all over the floor; the pungent smell of acid filled his nostrils as he gently held Gwyn and covered her up in his Kama after removing the breathing apparatus covering her mouth and nose.

<”You’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay, kid.”> The giant muttered to her in an attempt to soothe both her and himself as he placed his arms underneath her knees and around her back, lifting her and carrying her in his embrace towards a steel operating table. Now that she was in safe hands, she was in need of immediate medical attention, most notably her left leg as it was an open, untreated wound. But before he could treat her injury on the spot, she had to be decontaminated first. From head to toe, her malnourished body was covered in some form of chemical acidic in nature.

<”You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be just fine, Gwyn.”> he murmured as he gently laid Gwyn on the operating table. Seeing her tortured body up close and in detail tore into his soul. Each bruise, cut, laceration; he felt its pain in his soul ten fold, eviscerating him. But he had to endure and focus on what mattered the most, and that was making sure she was in a medically stable condition, ready to be evacuated out of here.

<”We’re here, we’re here,”> He said, quickly grabbing a hose and making sure it’s connected to a tank filled with purified water, the giant began the decontamination process. <”It’s over, it’s all over now, you hear me? You’re in safe hands.”>

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Spoiler: Translations and Abbreviations

[1] Alor’ad = Captain.
[2] Beskar’gam = Armor.
[3] Buy’ce = Helmet.
[4] Kama = Beltspat.

 

[Shai Maji]

Shai and her team remained on guard as they waited for Kranak's team. Once he arrived, the rest of them got to work on preparing to breach and secure the area. Some readied grenades while others flipped their vision modes to acquire targets. Shai rested against the wall with her rifle at the ready as Kranak took up a position on the other end, waiting for her word before they breached. She gave a nod and one of her men hit the button.

Like a tidal wave of armour they poured into the room and took down anyone that wasn't their vod. It was over barely after it began, the room was secured and the targets were dealt with. Kranak set about saving Gwyn from the tube while some of the clan members shoved past everyone with a stretcher and medical pack. "Move over, big guy, she's in good hands." They urged him, tending to all of her wounds before they tried to take her out of the room and to safety. "Freighter's docked and mothership is waiting for us. We got what we came for, Kran, let's get outta here." Shai insisted with a cold voice as she rested a hand on his shoulder to gently tug him towards her.

The other Krayts all moved out of the way while others investigated the room for anything worth salvaging. Shai breathed a sigh of relief as she looked at Gwyn's frail body, simply happy that they could find her breathing. "At least she's still kickin'... sort of. Figuratively." She commented with a shrug as she rested her rifle against her shoulder.

Gwyneira Vizsla Kranak Vizsla Sergeant Omen Vulcan Krayt