The Conqueror Returns [Mando/Open]

[Verz Horak]

Mandalore System

The small personal craft exited hyperspace, smoothly transitioning between dimensions, switching to sublight drives. The craft, lightly armed and armored, was not a threat to any Mandalorian.

The ship's exit from hyperspace would have been easily noticeable to any ships on patrol. The security codes it broadcast were old, but not very. Only a couple years at the most.

This would be suspicious to anyone really.

But Mandalorians, oh they would have fallen upon the ship like a hawk catching its prey. The small craft would offer no resistance, the man on the bridge made sure of it. A bit older and more weary, but most of the older Mando'ade would recognize the armor he wore.

Crimson battle armor, scarred by lightsaber and blaster alike. Armor that saw the fall of many worlds.

Armor that saw battle with the most powerful of Sith Lords and Jedi.

Armor that had ruled Mandalorian space.

The man beneath it had a look of longing on his face, seeing his homeworld for the first time in a few years.

Verz Horak had returned.

 

[Arla Ordo]

Arla saw the ship as she stood trying to barter for some materials for her next project. Idle hands she didn't need. She looked away for a moment before she agreed to the exchange she looked back. She was wearing her armor something he had not seen her get. She scanned.

Her green eyes through the T of her helmet rested on the armour she knew that armour very well. A rush of emotions hit her. Anger. Relief. Concern. He had disappeared like smoke, and now he stood there. Taking a deep breath, she started walking towards him.

What was she to do? Slap him? Hug him?

"Well look what the manka cat has drug back. Hello Ver'ika welcome home" She didn't move closer they were now just a couple of feet apart. She looked at his armor was there any new scuffs? She waited then pulled her buy'ce off her long red hair fell about her shoulders. She half smiled still unsure.

[member="Verz Horak"]

 

[Strider Garon]

Always in uncertain times do the great warriors rise and shine or in this case return home. Strider watched as Arla made towards the ex Mand'alor and her absent lover. He watched in interest for Arla could stick him like a pig with one of her blades or she could let the man explain himself. The ball was in their court and all the Field Marshal could do was sit back and watch. He personally would like the returning warrior to be unharmished cause the old man needed every warrior he could scrape up for the brewing storm that threatened to lay waste to their home.

Strider stood their in full beskar'gam, his helmet magnetically locked to his hip exposing his long black hair that was held back with an ancient red head band. He wore a golden shoulder cape that flapped in the wind and was the only insignia of his rank of Field marshal that he bore. In all honesty he really didn't need to wear the damned thing, everyone knew who he was but it was the Enemy he wanted to know who was in charge. Kinda like a taunt to take their best shot and end the old dog's life.

He would take out Dilnlexan Cigar and lit up while he waited patiently to greet the returning [member="Verz Horak"]. He did not want to interrupt [member="Arla Balor"] in what she was owed or the price she was going to take from the man.

 

[Verz Horak]

Verz stepped out of the pilot's seat, boots clanking on the deck. He watched as two Mandalorians boarded the ship and entered the bridge. He looked at the first of the two. It was Arl'ika. His sweet Arl'ika. The other Mandalorian he knew, but not too well. He watched, helmet still on, as Arla walked towards him, until she was less than a meter away.

The former Mand'alor reached up and removed his helmet. He looked Arla in the eyes, an almost apologetic look in his eyes. He could still read her face, even a few years later. He saw her face every night when he was gone. He dropped his helmet, letting it hit the deck with a thud. The warrior embraced his lover, or ex-lover, he wasn't sure.

[member="Arla Balor"]

 

[Arla Ordo]

[member="Verz Horak"]

Arla stiffened at first him hugging her did he know what his disappearance did to her emotionally. She shook her head but hugged him back. "I'm glad you're home you've got a lot of catching up to do" She whispered not knowing [member="Strider Garon"] was close. "A lot has happened. A lot changed. " She hugged him longer than she planned. "I deserve an explanation Ver'ika you broke my heart "

She pulled away looking at him. So many nights she had paced wondering. She wouldn't cry but she wanted to yell.

"Many will be glad to see you." She smiled, "I am glad to see you." But she held pain like a sponge. And only time would see what lay ahead for them.

 

[Verz Horak]

Verz held Arla tight, not caring that Strider was nearby. He whispered in her ear.

"I'm sorry Arl'ika. I truly am. I never forgot about you during my travels."

The former Mand'alor turned to [member="Strider Garon"] .

"I wish to be brought to Mand'alor Skirata. I must make amends with him."

The veteran Mandalorian warrior looked at the Field Marshal, noting the rank markings on his armor. Verz had once commanded fleets and armies. He didn't care about ordering around a Field Marshal. He also noted a couple Mandalorian Security soldiers waiting nearby, ready to escort the party to the cruiser that had docked with his ship, so that they could land on the surface.

Home.

He was finally home.

 

[Arla Ordo]

Arla backed away the conversation that would happen next she did not know if she could bear to hear much less contain her discomfort around [member="Strider Garon"] who was not popular among clan Ordo right now.

She looked down, " We will talk more later" if he wanted.

The one person she needs right now [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] was off world. She valued his advice and right now she needed some.

[member="Verz Horak"]

 

[Strider Garon]

Strider took a long puff of his expensive cigar then holding in the smoke and its delicious and tasteful burn before exhaling. Strider was usually a frugal man but there were some little things in life the lavished on and that usually was women, booze and his cigars. Lately it has been the simple things that had kept him going.

"As you wish Horak!" Strider replied with his deep resonating voice "And welcome home!"

With that he turned about to escort them onto the ship that would take them planet side. There were a few questions he would like to ask, but it was not his place at this time to interrupt Arla who had more pressing needs that out weighed the field marshal's.

[member="Arla Balor"] [member="Verz Horak"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

"Sir."


Field Marshal Mantis turned his head towards one of his NCOs. He was at the range, making sure his men had plenty of time to practice their marksmanship. He tapped his fingers, glancing at him, patiently waiting for him to deliver the message. The Sergeant gave him a salute, and Preliat nodded. He wasn't one for semantics.


"One of our friends at the defense grid just got word of someone coming back."


Preliat's head dipped. He wanted to know whom. The Sergeant gave a shrug.


"I will find out for myself. Thank you, Sergeant. Run through rifle drills. Then go to room clearing. I want them ready for more urban combat."


What Preliat did not know, however, was that [member="Verz Horak"] was returning.

 

[Anastasia Rade]

During the rule of [member="Verz Horak"] Ana had been locked away in a cell or serving one of her many masters. The young woman hadn't been rescued until long after his rule was over along with many others she had read about. Despite not serving him Ana had heard stories and read books on him. It was an honor to meet the man behind the stories.

Patiently she would await behind his friends and family who she knew had been waiting for his return for a long time. Ana could only imagine that they had a lot of catching up to do that and she was sure that he would wish to see [member="Azrael"] .

Ana was dressed in full beskar'gam which she was very proud in having made herself and being able to wear. She was proud to call herself a Mandalorian. The Rally Master had and still was making great strides in adjusting to life. Anyway, this was a moment that she didn't want to miss.

She would for now stay silent and just watch the events unfold.

[member="Strider Garon"] [member="Arla Balor"]

 

[Verz Horak]

Verz boarded the cruiser with [member="Arla Balor"] and [member="Strider Garon"] , after picking up his helmet of course. He left instructions in the ship's autopilot to land it at the nearest starport below. The weary traveler followed the two who came to greet him in orbit, followed by the Security soldiers. He followed Arla and Strider through the familiar halls of the warship.

The warrior saw some looks of disbelief from some crew members. Some saluted, though if it was for him or Strider, he had no idea, nor did he care. He didn't feel like he deserved any accolades. Men and women died under his command. He had fled the planet when he was defeated by @Gilamar Skirata .

Verz fell into step beside Arla, trying to read her face. He could tell that she was a whirlwind of emotion. Just like she always was. His beskar'gam clanked and jangled, his tattered and stained cloak brushing against the metal of his armor.

It felt good to be back on a proper warship.

 

[Andrea Kryze]

Even warriors of might and power must spend time reading.

Andrea was deeply carried away in a text on the Mando'a language. She was leaning against the wall outside her current quarters. She was okay with her room, but she enjoyed this open space. She did not yet have a Mandalorian set of armor to call her own; however she had a flexible, black training suit on. She had two MT-14 pistols on her belt and a sniper rifle slung to her side so she could lean against the wall. Absorbed as she studied the language she needed to learn, she was surprised by the sudden footsteps that suddenly came up from several yards down the hall.

She almost dropped her tablet as she jumped into a salute. "Su cuy'gar!" She announced, remembering the Mando'a greeting. The blonde then noticed it was [member="Strider Garon"]. She kept her respectful pose as she noticed that there was another person next to him. Andrea had no idea a majority of people around here, how long they stayed or were away, but his battered armor told her this man was an experienced fighter.

Despite the seriousness and respect on her face, her eyes still shone with curiosity. She said nothing though. More than anything in the world, Andrea wanted to prove she had a place within the grand Mandalorian world. New to this life though, and very young, she was a nervous individual. Always asking questions, simply passing the time training with the inner strength and courage she had yet to prove. She wondered who the stranger warrior was, but the teen only blinked, still a bit embarrassed about her reaction to their sudden arrivals.


[member="Verz Horak"]

 

[Azrael]

Keldabe, Mandalore
Mandal Motors War Room

Stories beneath the surface of the capital city, a large dome shaped room that was home to a plethora of computer systems, holo screens and communications arrays that reached up atop Mandal Motors proper to extend the signal far and above into the Galaxy made up the infamous Mandalorian War Room. The large circular table in the middle was where countless Mandalorian men and women had plotted and planned tactical and strategic conquest of worlds in every sector of the Galaxy. The art of war was planned here, decided upon, and tracked with ruthless efficiency. If the Mandalorians as a whole were not in the midst of continued combat against their enemies, or those they sought to break - they were assuredly planning something, and today was no different.

"Assign three fleets to patrol the western ridge of the Raven's territory, confirm location with the Protectors." Azrael said as he stood at the table, moving through various screens and looking at the big picture. That was his role now, it was the big picture - making battle plans, and ensuring a leadership role was given to every part of the conquest. He had many trusted Mandalorians he could call on for such tasks, and he recognized talent and had seen hundreds of his brothers and sisters move forward with grit and determination. Having experienced so much in such a short amount of time made everything fresh and memorable to the salvager. Since his capture of the Raven's president, he knew they'd be out for blood, and he had no problem in answering that call. "Keep the trace on Antecedent communications operable, and track any hyperspace travel that would link to our sector." Another missive sent to a Field Marshal while he combed through a few more reports that had just come in. Azrael's attention diverted though when a Rally Master stepped through the doorway.

"Lord Mand'alor, Verz Horak has returned, and has made contact with a war ship in orbit." The green armored man said as he shifted towards Azrael's side and offered up on the commlink coordinates and their inbound route. For a moment he said nothing, contemplating the return of an old friend, but one who had to be forcibly removed from power by his own adopted father. The man who had taught Azrael how to handle a blade in combat, and the first Mand'alor he saw take the title after Monroe had stepped down. There was a complex set of emotions that weighed on him, but he pushed them aside and inserted the commlink frequency into the table, bringing up the war ship in question and noting the path and trajectory to Manda'yaim.

"Give word to the vessel, meet at the command outpost to the south, inform Field Marshal Garon that I'll be in company." He said not a single word more when the green armored Rally Master gave a nod and took the message. "After all this time, it will be good to see a face that's not dead." Azrael said in the silence when the room was his once more. His buy'ce was clipped on and the trusty E'tad Kal was slid into the sheathe on his back. That weapon had become a staple for the salvager, and he was rarely found without it. Soon he'd be exiting to meet the party at the landing site.


[member="Andrea Kryze"] | [member="Verz Horak"] | [member="Anastasia Rade"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Strider Garon"] | [member="Arla Balor"]

 

[Verz Horak]

[member="Azrael"] [member="Anastasia Rade"] [member="Preliat Mantis"]

As they walked through the halls of the cruiser, waiting for it to make its way through the atmosphere and land, Verz, [member="Arla Balor"] and [member="Strider Garon"] had passed [member="Andrea Kryze"] who had snapped to a salute. Verz had never seen her before, but like with the other crew member, he offered a small nod to acknowledge the trooper. Verz also observed that she had no armor.

So either a hireling, or an Initiate who hasn't earned her beskar'gam yet.

The trio continued on towards the bridge, though whether Andrea followed or not was up to her.

The bridge was full of activity, like any warship's bridge should be. Officers coordinating communications, weapons systems, scanners and more were in this room. The heart of a vessel. Unlike the foolish Republic and Sith warships, the bridge of Mandalorian vessels were not exposed to the void. Nobody would fault the Mando'ade for being fools.

Speaking of comms, a comm officer came running over to Strider, with a message.

"Sir, we have made contact with Lord Mand'alor. We have been permitted to land at the military starport south of Keldabe."

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Mandal Motors War Room.

"Wanna watch that talking to yourself, Mand'alor, ain't a good sign."

Mia leaned against the door frame, arms folded across her chest. She was rarely in armor these days, but she was also rarely in a battle. Ever since coming back, she'd chosen to remain quiet, to keep her nose out of the greater affairs. She had a business to run, her own plans to see too and she'd lost faith in her people. Ordo's treatment was the last resort for her.

She regarded [member="Azrael"] with cold indifference, before speaking again. "You don't mind if I stick around for family reunions? Horak and I were close once, and I'd like him to hear the 'died and came back with a new face' story from myself."

 

[Arla Ordo]

Arla was quiet as they walked along her eyes often looking over to Verz and then back to Strider. This could only happen to her dumb luck and all because she had wanted to make the deal for the additional materials and couldn't wait.

She felt as though she could hear her own boots on the deck plates, her own breathing echoed in her ears as she asked herself over and over what was she going to do. This was more than confusion about an idea this was something that affected her day to day living, breathing, emotional stability. No matter how many times she would tell herself she was a mandalorian in the back of her mind she reminded herself she wasn't a robot. She had emotion, feelings blast she said under her breath. She looked over at [member="Andrea Kryze"] as they passed by Arla had to give a half laugh. She remembered when she was the initiate standing on the sidelines looking at everyone.

Arla heard the message and could only nod. "I need a drink I'll be back in a few minutes, or at least before we are at the starport" She turned and headed back she needed time to regroup and get it together.

She pushed her hair back behind her ears she really wanted to blast something right now, or blow it up at the very least. The range later yes she'd let off some steam then.

[member="Verz Horak"] | [member="Azrael"] | [member="Anastasia Rade"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Strider Garon"] | [member="Mia Monroe"]​

 

[Azrael]

As if on some cosmic queue, a woman that had come back from the dead herself interjected thoughts on the Mand'alor's audible musings. It was a hard thing to adjust to, the idea that the Liberator, the very first Mand'alor he had served under had been dead in his arms, but was not alive and standing before him in a completely different skin suit. Everything about Mia Monroe had changed from what he knew her as, the voice, the eyes, and even her personality had shifted - though he wagered death might do that to a person. Over the months after coming to the realization that she was the Liberator of the Mando'ade, he'd gotten more used to seeing her this way, though she still reminded him of her death at every turn. An apropos greeting as he had just left the words leave his lips of seeing the dead among the living. A lot of death had come their way recently, and he was only now starting to move forward with his life and the leadership of the culture without the heavy burden and weight of so many so quickly perishing. Though they would never be forgotten, as each Mandalorian of valor recited the names of those that had lost as a daily remembrance of brothers and sisters that had gone on before. However, he'd recently stopped quoting Mia's name now that she was among the vode once more.

"Neither talking or arguing with yourself is much of an issue, Liberator." Azrael turned towards Mia as the helmet slid in place and activated the seal on his beskar'gam. "The only cause for concern would be such a personal disgust that I give myself the cold shoulder." In essence, Azrael was referring to a certain level of schizophrenia that would warrant a very different kind of intervention and medical help - though it was said in jest as he passed through the self-same door that Mia leaned against with a nod in her direction to join him for the trek out to the southern outpost to meet up with Verz and company. "I imagine it'd be a bit more believable from your lips than that of someone that hadn't lived through that." A comment he wasn't altogether happy about, as he couldn't really justify the process of dying and being reintroduced into life, and the term living seemed to fall so short of the mark. A meager shrug was offered as his right hand rose up to issue a silent gesture to tag along as requested. "The Ravens are chomping at the bit to prove something about their president, I suspect a skirmish with them soon, should be a good training exercise for the initiates." Obviously Azrael didn't think much of the faction, or their leadership, if he could lead a one man strike and capture their president with only about two weeks of planning.

Stepping out of the war room bunker and into a turbo-lift, the racing lights ripped down their side as the pair emerged from beneath the surface of Keldabe to end up at the star port of Mandal Motors, and his personal Oya'karir; a two man armed assault vehicle that Azrael preferred when he was travelling with the Field Marshals or other higher ranking officers from city to city. The speeder bikes were nice, but the ground vehicles were for less urgent matters - as it was slower, but felt far more satisfying to feel the grip of the wheels and the roar of the engine beneath the hood of the mechanical beast. Sliding into the driver's seat, the Mand'alor fired up the engines and took off down the ramp and towards the landing site. A thick dust cloud kicked up in the vehicles wake as it trailed the line from Mandal Motors, through the rough and rugged dirt laden terrain that sprawled over a good portion of Mand'yaim.

"You know I remember when I first met him. The mess hall went silent when he walked in, every eye and visor in the entire place went directly to him. Even as a Field Marshal, Horak always commanded respect." The day Azrael spoke of was the day when he was taken under Verz's tutoring wing, and was given personal instruction in the way to use a blade, and to fight smart and hard. Ever since that day, he was set apart, and he owed a lot of Mandalorian roots and heritage to that crimson armored man. Even after what Gil and Ordo had told him about what occurred and why he had to be forcibly removed from the sole leadership - he still didn't count the man as Dar'manda. There was conflict about his position on the stance of Verz, but of all things Azrael was glad that he was coming home.

[member="Andrea Kryze"] | [member="Arla Balor"] | [member="Mia Monroe"] | [member="Verz Horak"] | [member="Anastasia Rade"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] | [member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Andrea Kryze]

With a pang of curiosity, Andrea followed the group from behind. The red on her face was fading, she practiced a "proper" walking method, more straight and even unlike her usual care free steps. The young girl adjusted her sniper rifle, pushing it behind her back again. She wasn't too close to the group, but she wasn't at all lagging. She still couldn't catch what many people were saying. However, she simply followed. Despite her blond lightheadedness, she was a quick learner. She was curious, not only about who this man was, but if that was what she was destined to become. Not like her... father...



I usually don't write short posts like this, sorry xD. @tags everyone

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Mandal Motors Port



The Sergeant's information had been correct. Someone was coming. Preliat's eyes drifted upwards to glare at [member="Azrael"], while his fingers wrapped along his biceps.


"One of my Sergeants mentioned something about a fairly important person arriving. Important enough for you to show your face."

Not disgust, but a slight pang of disappointment hung in Preliat's words. He did not know what kept Azrael from the forefront of affairs, but he felt as though he had been let down. Azrael was spotty in his appearances, though he hadn't failed in his duties as Mand'alor. Just laxed in them a bit.

"Who's coming?"

Spoiler: OOC

Not a OOC stab at you Evad, just making IC observations. I understand that life gets in the way

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Mia fell into step alongside Azrael as he beckoned her to join him. His face, concealed behind the tradtional t-visor, while her remained exposed. It was in small moments like this, thats she felt like an auretii among her own people. She had not been cast out, nor declared darmanda, but she stood on the sidelines. A sad smile flashed momentarily across her face. She reaped, what she had sown.

"The Ravens will regret being an aggravation. It's not something we need. Still, it will keep the initiates busy and draw their minds away from the bigger fish." She fell silent, her jaw tight as she recalled her own past with Verz. They'd risen through the ranks together, he had been the first to call her Mand'alor and in return for his loyalty, she had left him the seat while she drew dangerous eyes away from her people. She wondered, in the quiet moments, what would have happened if she had stayed, what horrors Velok would have brought upon them, just to get to her.

She climbed into the speeder next to the mand'alor her expression darkening at his words. "Yes, he did." she replied coldly "Such respect was disregarded when he made what Skirata and Ordo believed to be a bad choice." She cast her eyes over the incoming port and sighed "He was not the first Mand'alor to make a peace treaty with the sith. Nor will he be the last." she fell silent for a moment, forhead creasing in contemplation. "Our hatred for the sith has become an obsession. I've played my part in encouraging it, but there will come a time when we will have to step back and look at the greater picture. Survival is more important than war."

Mia disembarked first as they reached the port, nodding towards [member="Preliat Mantis"] as she did. "Verz Horak" she answered for [member="Azrael"] as she swept past the field marshall. Wasn't this where she had accused Verz of running? She chuckled to herself. Today was going to be interesting to say the very least.