The Great Reclamation [ Mandalorian Empire Dominion of Mygeeto ]

[Deneve Verd]

[2/20]

Deneve heard blaster fire and that's what set her feet into motion, moving quickly she would near the sound of blasters before shimmying up a crystalline rock. Perched atop one of the highest ledges, she would take aim and begin firing rapid precision shots. In what seemed like the blink of an eye four of the men firing arms towards the metal heap had been taken out. With those men down, she leapt off of rock, the force fueling her movements enough so that mid leap she was able to draw forth the sword drenched in the darkness and begin swinging. To any that may of witnessed her and didn't know her, she would seem like a feral , sadistic blood painted woman that took far too much pleasure in the death of those before her.

She had acted with instincts coming from somewhere deep within her blood. She was a Verd, the battlefield was her home. And these poor saps just so happened to have stumbled upon her home when she was on a less than gracious mood.

[member="Nyx"] [member="Josiah Denko"]

 

[Kadala Kotyc]

OBJECTIVE: 1; The Last Stand
LOCATION: Enemy Ba(nk)se
ALLIES: Mandalorian Empire
ENEMIES: Dar'Manda Forces
{7/20}
---------------------------------
She wasn't sure what was faster- her heartbeat or the pounding of her feet against permacrete. Maybe they were evenly matched. Lined up, coordinated, synchronized. Or maybe she was just hearing the echo of her steps, the double-patter of her heart and the blood rushing in her ears. That was a possibility. Oh, there were countless possibilities, all out there, waiting for her to ponder them, to wander into their ideas. But Kadala did not reach for a single one. Did not try to grasp them with her sweating, clammy hands. If she had, they surely would have fallen from her grip, slipped away despite magnet-graced gauntlets. What would have been the point? What could she have-

Something screamed at her to focus. It stuck pins and needles into her shoulder, drew with red ink upon her abdomen, and threatened to trip her tired feet. Out of practice, she found herself thinking. Two teeth tried to bury themselves into her bottom lip. They yelled out nonsense- bantha chite about distractions and decoys. She did not want to listen. Kadala kept running, kept launching herself across rooftops, kept moving. Moving away from the quiet that refused to be silenced. Blood roared so happily within her veins, racing her, daring her to go faster, faster, faster. Who was she to deny her soul of what it desperately craved? Who was she to let the memories return?

The wind whipped past her, whirling away from her rushing form. Every part of her felt like a blur. Like she was breaking the sound barrier into bits. Of course she wasn't moving that fast in reality. Of course. But feelings were feelings, regardless of their rationale. Kadala felt like a leaf on the wind as she launched herself off one last roof. Her momentum carried her forward, over one final edge, sending her in a collision course to the concrete. The impact was jarring- she could feel her jaw rattling in response. Every breath in the sequence of events that followed came with a shudder, a heaving of her whole body, evidence of the fact that she was overworking her living vessel.

"Frack," she muttered, oxygen catching and clawing the inside of her throat. Yet... she did not allow her weary soul to rest for long. It was fleeting, the repose. As ephemeral as could be. I've got a frakkin' job to do, the young Skirata reminded herself, scowling once more. The rush had temporarily ceased. What remained was ruined comfort, something she did not care for. Busying herself was the only way to evade the inevitable flashback session. Let's see about those defenses, she thought, starting to reach out with the force. She used it to push at one of the bank's windows. Gently she nudged it, attempting to gauge the strength of any possible reinforcements. As she had anticipated, the dar'manda had indeed covered up the dark glass, deeming it a structural weakness.

But they hadn't strengthened it enough. She could feel the support pressed against the glass, could feel its stress, the desire it seemed to have. Like so many things before it, it craved the release of destruction. The end of a cracked existence. And who, oh who was she to refuse to grant its wish? Power surged through veins, trickled down her forehead with the sweat, gathered in her limbs, and around her like a barricade. There was no structure to her use of the force. No rhythm, no rhyme. Just instinct barreled alongside anger, an often disastrous, dangerous concoction. Kadala took one final dose of rage before launching herself into the air.

When she crashed into the window, the cacophony chorus chimed in, a clamorous swan song worthy of bleeding ears. Her own cry joined the mix soon enough, equal parts pain and defiance. Cracked glass slipped around her, accompanied by splintered wood and mangled metal, split pieces assaulting her armor. A few bits managed to slide between durasteel plates. They did not make her swear as much as the sudden shifting of her shoulder, the dislocating of bones did. How had she forgotten the injury?... She hadn't. The memory was there, nestled amongst every other moment of her life, threatening to overwhelm her. Then what was her excuse for the reckless abandon which she carried herself with? What excuse did she make as she plummeted towards a scrambled group of men?...

It could be worse. It could be worse.

 

[Runi Verin]

Objective: III
Location: The Not-So-Abandoned Refinery
Allies: Mandalorian Empire; The Kindred Mechanics | [member="Ronan Vizsla"], [member="Nikole Vizsla"], [member="Ryanin Kor"]
Enemies: Rogue Sentinel Droids
Post: 7/20
A fleeting frown flickered across Runi’s features as she turned to face the newcomer, the use of her name the only thing stopping her from putting two into his chest and a third straight between the eyes. She might have lived a life of reluctance concerning the blaster, but it didn’t mean she would shy away from using the appropriate amount of force when the time came to pull the trigger. Considering it was dar’manda they were currently fighting less than a mile or so from the factory, she doubted anyone would’ve faulted her for shooting first and questioning the smouldering t-visor’d remains later.

“An’ who the kark are you supposed to be? ” She snorted softly and shook her head before the man could give his answer, “No, second thought, I don’ really care. You know how to use that piece, I take it? That’s good enough of an introduction for me.”

Judging from the sounds currently scraping their way towards them, and the stillness of those around her, she had a feeling she was going to need all the blasters she could manage. A rapid blink, tracked by her HUD, caused the active motion sensor function to shimmer into view before the mechanic’s eyes. While far from an expert with the sensor, she was pretty sure that much angry looking red surging towards their position wasn’t a good sign. Kark, she almost wished she’d stayed in ignorance.
“Fierfek, this just isn’t my karkin’ da---“

The sound of the vents exploding outwards drowned out the rest of what she had to say regarding her luck, with the appearance of multiple twisted metallic forms seeming to sum it up quite nicely. Words might have failed, but the sounds of blasters and beskads flaring into action quickly rose to the occasion.

 

[Darth Metus]

Had Josiah come to terms with the plausibility of his demise?

No, not really.

In the deepest recesses of his mind, he knew that death was an inevitable reality. Yet perhaps it was a remnant of youthful naivety that prompted him to think...that maybe he would go down swinging. Josiah did not think that his end would come on some far-flung world, crashed and burnt. No, he thought it would come about in the defense of something worth fighting for. Regardless, life had dealt him a rather sordid hand this day...and a small part of him whispered the possibility.

I'm going to die.

The thought alone twisted his stomach and inspired him to fight. He didn't want to meet his end in a twisted heap of flaming steel! Effort bled through him: his arms fumbled and flailed against the vessel's restraints. The clasp? Yes. Found it. With a grunt he unbuckled himself and began the process of seeking out the emergency release. Only then would the cockpit glass eject, providing him with room to escape.

Well. Crawl forward, that is.

[member="Deneve Verd"], [member="Nyx"], [member="Rhuza Kingpriest"]

 

[Helios]

Ignore

 

[Jerrick Shado]

Post 1(20)
[member="Keira Ticon"]

Breathe in, then breath out. Each time, his chest rose, then fell as he lay prone, speaking in his head: I really wonder what time it is in Coruscant. Hmm...maybe I can still get there before the sale for the Corellian Ale is over. Still...damn this man for hiring to fight vod.

The Czar super soldier was given a very specific target to look out for, a woman named Keira, though what was so special about her, he had no idea, nor cared. In his Zodiac Armor, the Helmet was reading each of the Empire's troopers movements. Through the scope of his rifle each person caught in the cross hair could have been a dead man, each one could have never made it back home. Reckless killing wasn't his style though. He enjoyed the ways of being a sniper, watching from afar, and providing support. This was what he was best at. Regardless of this, his pistols were sitting next to him, waiting to be fired. He only had two clips, one for each. Not much room to carry more on his person at the moment.

Jerrick laughed in his helmet as he watched the mandos fight, he saw this has slaughter, and found no glory in their actions. What was the point of this? He was nearly twenty-nine now, and still never saw any point in all these wars. Not since Rolland was gone, his true vod. Where had he gone? Last he saw him was Coruscant actually, when the dumbass Sin attacked for no reason. He had heard the man died there, giving the Sith a run for their kill. He laughed again. Enjoying one's death, that was something he had never heard of. Jerrick wondered, was he the only Czar left? Was he alone in this galaxy now? If only someone like Shaw was still here to punch him around and give him a real challenge.

He wasn't full of himself, Jerrick just knew the facts; he was faster, and stronger than more than half the Mandalorian Empire's units combined. Jerrick yawned and blinked a new option up on his HUD to broadcast to the Empire's more open com channels.

"So...I'm kind of tired of waiting for this Ticon woman. So if she could come out, and fight me...yea...that would be great." He stood up from his position, holstered the pistols, and walked into the battlefield to find his target. "Hey!" Jerrick pointed out to one of the Empire's soldiers. "Do you know Keira Ticon?" His answer was a blaster bolt aimed to the face that he quickly dodged. With lighting speed he was on the soldier, a kick to his mid section saw the mando unconscious. When one ran thirty miles an hour....your legs were the best weapon you had sometimes. "I guess not.."

 

[Darth Metus]

An awkward reach saw some degree of success. Josiah's fingertips managed to seize the release, however, that was just the tip of the iceberg. From this particular angle, the Jedi was unable to muster the strength to pull the lever into position. So close, yet so far away. Despite this, Josiah gave it the ol'college try. His fingers fumbled and flailed, but to no avail. With a huff, he released the lever from his grasp and took a moment to draw a deep breath. "Come on Jo. This ain't the end." he said, gritting his teeth against the rampant agony. His gaze returned to the lever, and through sheer grit alone he commanded the Force to his aide.

For one who specialized in telekinetics, what came next was abysmal compared to the norm. The absolute most his current state could produce was a simple grip: but that was all he needed. He yanked with as much strength as he could muster, prompting the vessel to shudder in response. Pressure exploded forth, jettisoning the cockpit's glass clear across the crystal ground. It skidded, crashed, and came to a halt a solid several paces away from his would-be saviors. "Here we go. Here we go." he muttered, sterling himself for what came next.

His fingers seized either side of the broken frame and aching muscles screamed in response. However, Josiah fought through the pain enough to see himself crumple onto the hard crystal outside. The vicious chill of the terrain was...well, it sucked. But it was better than sitting mere inches away from flames. Now, if the Jedi had been at peak condition, he would have felt the Darkness all around him. It bled from the sword wielded by the wildling Verd. It billowed forth from the Eldorai. Yet for a man barely clinging to consciousness, there was nothing but cold. Cold and pain.

Squinting against the blurred vision, Josiah could make out the form of [member="Rhuza Kingpriest"] approaching from his drop. He could also make out the fallen forms of Stormtroopers, along with his Imperial "saviors."

And then there was black

And an unceremonious faceplant.

[member="Nyx"], [member="Deneve Verd"], [member="Rhuza Kingpriest"]

 

[Deneve Verd]

If anything Deneve rolled her eyes at the male face planting. Typical male face planting in the middle of a wreck. Sheathing her blade, the woman would stride forward, her blaster taking shots here and there at those in her way. Coming up to the form slumped on the ground, she would reach out and touch his brow lightly, prodding to see what damage he might have. Sighing softly, she would reach out and haul him up and onto her shoulder as if he weighed nothing.

Pivoting on her heels, she would make her way back towards her ship; intent on plopping him within the safety of the medbay located at the center of her ship.

Moving swiftly and quietly, the Verd female would soon come upon her ship only to strode inside and deposit him within the medbay. Getting him settled in and secured she would once more leave the ship to go clean up the mess that had caused the wreckage and finish off those tedious intruders. Her sword once more swung free, the darkness humming in the air as she went about both impaling and dismembering those that had thought it wise to come after the male in his heap of metal.


[member="Josiah Denko"]

 

[Darth Metus]

Unceremonious transitioned into elevation.

Without his knowing, the Jedi was promptly hoisted onto the capable shoulders of the Verd wildling. She bore his weight across the frigid crystalscape until promptly depositing him within the confines of her vessel. There, a number of automatons saw fit to carry the burden that she had entrusted to them: starting first with a stretcher. The Droids were far from delicate in their handling, as empathy was not apart of their circuitry. However, they were proficient enough in their duties to prevent Josiah from meeting an untimely demise.

Much to his chagrin, however, this meant resetting bones that had been broken and battered; whilst simultaneously providing medication to keep his heart ticking. As such, the Jedi was jarred awake by a cocktail of pain and adrenaline. To say that he screamed was an understatement, but soon thereafter painkillers were introduced. Good ones. They converted Josiah from flailing to mellow in a very brief span of time. Good thing too, because the remnants of his clothing were discarded so that his subsequent visit to the bacta tank had maximum affect.

It was cold. But he was alive.

 

[Zef Halo]

Objective: I
Location: Hovering above the destruction.
Allies: Mandalorian Empire;
Enemies: Dar'manda Forces
Post: 5/20
Now what do you do when someone starts camping. Piles up in their house, thinking they are safe. Well, obviously, you bring the goddamn roof on their heads.

His mission had gone a different way as the Mandalorians stomped through the ranks of the dar'manda. Zef was not a front line fighter, no. For karks' sake, he is a smuggler. He knows how to evade things and pass through undetected. Hence, he had moved away from his friend the God of Destruction i.e Mandalore the Reclaimer and gone to implement his plan. The dar'manda forces were holding a strong line outside of the bunker, yet this would all change soon.

Along with another few Mandalorians, Zef led them to adjacent buildings where he instructed them on where the charges should be set so they could do explode the right way. The buildings were empty, all of them. The dar'manda had simply left everything and piled up a total defence against the Mandalorians in one spot. Good idea but actually not. Zef activated his integrated comm on the public Mandalorian channel:

<//Y'all better move back from their damn front line, like really move back. Unless, of course, you want to die. You've got a minute./>>

60

**

30

**

10

**

5

4

3

2

1

BOOM!

The twenty story building began falling like a hammer down at the front line of the dar'manda forces who had paused firing at the sight of the behemoth of a building falling down on them. Death at the form of an apartment building.

The End.

 

[Darth Ayra]

Objective IV - 12/20

With difficultly, Darth Ayra finished her ascent up the slope and in the distance, she saw the Initium. Around the Dark Lord, the blizzard continued to be the source of her torment. She could no longer feel her fingers, feet or face. Everything seemed numb, and at the same time, she could feel the consistent pain associated with frostbite. It seemed ludicrous to her that, after all she had been through in her life, she would be succumbed by the a blizzard. Ordinary people may have fallen in this scenario, but she refused to die like this, even though she knew that she was dying.

Without her permission, her left leg buckled and fell onto her knee, forcing her to kneel before the snow. Everything seemed heavy now.

She longed to sleep.

 

[Arage Bao]

Location: Sinsanghttp://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Sinsang, Raioballo Sector.
Allies: Clan Vizsla - [member="Runi Verin"], [member="Nikole Vizsla"], [member="Khia Wral"].
Enemies: The Vanguard of the Jarvashqiine.
Post: [2/20]

The Mandalorian Empire prevailed on Mygeeto on that day.

There were several hotspots of activity where the Mandalorians sought control: the rich mines of crystals were liberated, the isolated cities put under formal protection and the factories repaired. But there is always more to do and the Mandalorian Empire was ambitious in its desire.

Their eyes were drawn to the other worlds nearby Mygeeto with Muunilinst as the most bountiful of prizes. But that’s the entire thing about unrestrained expansion and unchecked desire.

Sometimes… you get blinded by them, until you miss the real threat lunging for your throat.

They came from Sinsang.

A rare world of industry, infrastructure and metal in Wild Space.

The great merchant houses had fought against the Primeval Zealots for years with relative success, but with the fall of Anja and the subsequent destruction of her order… well, things got complicated. Warlords no longer abided by her rules and one in particular decided to seize the prize that was Sinsang.

In secret Khadas N’uum seized control of the Jarvashqiinehttp://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Jarvashqiine and forged them into his new weapon. It was these vile shamans and a cabal of false Sun Guard that helped him grab hold of Sinsang right from under our noses.

And it’s there on Sinsang that Khadas N’uum, now named Arasuum after the Mandalorian God of Sloth, was breeding an army. Using the infrastructure and industry of the metal world Arasuum hopes to drive a spear right through the Mandalorian Empire, before it can become a true threat to his power.

But Mand’alor the Reclaimer and the Clans sworn to him have never shied away from a challenge.

Now the Empire amasses its forces to wipe Sinsang clean of its corruption and restore the fallen Merchant Houses or perhaps the Reclaimer will decide that Sinsang is better left under direct Mandalorian rule.

Who can claim to truly know the thoughts of the Reclaimer?

OOC: Alright, guys! As decided by the count, we are taking Mygeeto to T3 and that means a new arena of conflict. I wrote up a short background for you all to play in and will provide a few objectives for some structure, but feel free to get creative!

Objectives

A) Vanquish the fleets of Arasuum. Some of them have been infected by strange magicks and seem to be somewhat organic in nature. Caution is advised.

B) Gain control of the great factories of Sinsang. They are currently supporting the creation of the Kza, a blend of Sith Alchemy and Mechu-Deru. Little is known about them, but they seem to be comparable to the living dead but enhanced by advanced cybernetics.

C) Assault Arasuum’s Citadel looming over the capital of Sinsang. It’s there that his strongest shamans and personal guard reside. Expect fierce opposition.

D) Bring your own objective!

[member="Darth Ayra"] | [member="Zef Halo"] | [member="Deneve Verd"] | [member="Jerrick Shado"] | [member="Rhuza Kingpriest"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Kadala Skirata"] | [member="Ronin Wendigo"] | [member="Ryanin Kor"] | [member="Freyia Whitelight-Carrick"] | [member="Xander Carrick"] | [member="Iegoris Verd"] | [member="Marcus Itera"] | [member="Daeron Kryze"] | [member="Kixi Rajki"] | [member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Javik Quar-Kai"] | [member="Gael bar Ammon"] | [member="Dralos"] | [member="Belis Verd"] | [member="Prosecutor"] | [member="Shia LeFett"] | [member="Miss Blonde"]​

 

[Titan]

Objective: C
Name: Tel Ordo

Tel realised that he was late to the party. "Well, I'm here now what do you want me to do?" He asked the nearest war marshal. After receiving his instructions Tel headed off towards the highest citadel in the city, his newest target.

 

[Khia Varad]

​

Dantooine
Headquarters - Te Dral Acy’ra
Mission: Squash Some Mechbug Wannabies, first prep her kit.
Readying for Objective B
Allies - 12 Mandalorian Crusaders

Double plated strapped durasteel armor on, bulky but she could take more. She hammered her helmet down, and did the same for her clan sister next to her. Seka psyched Khia up beneath her visor and pushed her fist against her clan sister’s chin, giving her a mock punch. She got a grin for a sec, about the only one that ever did between the two of them, Seka was even tougher a queen than she was.

“Need to work on your jab.” Someone joked, throwing open his own locker and pulling out his own weapons to begin strapping up, getting glares from both woman, not much else. She and Seka were prepping with FFE’s latest experimental armor on again, third or forth prototype run between their testers, decent shielding, targeting visor. Long as her tin can stopped blasters, did its job and didn’t get her killed, or there’d be hell to pay. She got credchits for her time and free gear, fringe benefits when you blew through guns as much as she did.

Banter but then down to business soon enough, anything in their way wasn’t going to be there for long. Packing her demo kit, her small prepackaged high explosives and breaching charges, Khia found her zone, flicking on her personal energy shield, redundant backup at her ready beneath. Both were triple checking their kit, because better than dead, she loaded up her nade belt and her standard MRS-1 rifle with shieldbreaker rounds, 2 spare clips of AP ammo, 2 Jack knife pistols and an Icebreaker over her back.

“Got enough kit?” Their joker said again, while they began to lineup ready for the doors to go green, and get ready to board.

Couldn't ever bring enough firepower.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Nikole Vizsla"] | [member="Tel Ordo"]​

 

[000]

Objective: C
Location: On battlefield
Allies: @Ronin Wendigo, The Mandalorian Empire. Freyia Whitelight-Carrick | @Kixi Rajki | Maya Carrick | Xander Carrickhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/2280-xander-carrick/
Enemies: Dar'manda
Post 1/20

It was then that thought it felt like a lifetime wait but eventually one the e-vac speeders finally was able to break thru. And seem just in the nick of time no sooner had she been barely sedated that she was then lifted onto a waiting stretcher. Then safely secured with a few bacta patches placed securely over her wounds. At which time from the sideline two other injured troopers were hauled over towards them, At which time the medic turns over to him and with a nudge directed him to pick up one end of the stretcher while he then activates it lift capability. Set off with him in tow to bring it over and secure it onto the await e-vac speeder.

At which time turn over to the side while the other two injured were loaded. Ronin faced over towards her father. Unsure if it would be out of place for him to want to be close to her and see her off safely to the med station. In which time take the moment to eye him briefly before pushing forward by the medic onto the speeder. Giving its side a few good whacks before turn him speak. Telling him that this was where they part. That it would be best he keeps his eyes peel and makes sure the speeder gets back safely. Before turning to the side and head off to rejoin the rest of his squad while on the sideline he could see her father. His eyes seem to look so torn upon seeing the state of his daughter while in the background. Another volley of explosion erupted becoming the remaining able mando round them to hurry off towards the fight.

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LO3LZohKCnE​

​

Objective: Destroy everyone in his way

This was it. This was what he was missing in his life. For his entire life in one way or another the old man had been holding him back. He was bred, created to fight. The cleverness of a child prodigy, the combat experience of a seventy year old Mandalorian, and a body blessed by the Force...This was his element. He would go on and on about the Codex and how so many had died to continue that legacy.

He didn't care.

As his blaster let loose bolt after bolt of red energy, as his foot broke the bones of those beneath him, he just didn't care. Behind the T-shaped visor the bastard son of Gilamar Skirata and Rave Merill grinned wildly. The dirt clung to his beskar'gam, the red stained black by the smog of war. His left arm was bare, an explosion had ripped the armor to shreds and the shrapnel had cut up the arm pretty good. In fact, most of his armor was ruined.

But he didn't care.

His head planted itself into the skull of an enemy who had gotten too close to a beast who should not have been born. A Keldabe kiss crushed the bone and cartilage in the soldier's nose. Mordecai laughed heartily. He didn't care who he fought, as long as he got to fight.

 

[Arage Bao]

Location: Sinsang, Raioballo Sector.
Allies: Clan Vizsla - [member="Runi Verin"], [member="Nikole Vizsla"], [member="Khia Wral"].
Other Allies: [member="Mordecai Tal'kyr"] | [member="Ronin Wendigo"] | [member="Tel Ordo"]
Enemies: The Vanguard of the Jarvashqiine.
Post: [3/20]

"We are ready to go, Ronan."
"I see."

Vizsla was standing over a holographic map. It currently showed a cut-off map of the Raioballo Sector, more importantly the distance between Dantooine and Sinsang. They were the closest to that industrial world and that was troubling.

If something went wrong, if the Empire did not manage to unseat Arasuum and take Sinsang?

If, if if. So many things to worry about now. Should never have challenged Grim, but what’s a man to do when his family asks him to take charge?

"Are we ready to go, Ronan?"
"Yes. Let’s go."

This was not the time to worry. This was the time to crush skulls, bring down Arasuum’s walls around him and take Sinsang for the glory of… who?

Ain’t that the million credit question.

Ronan passed Nikole. She was becoming a second shadow of his, perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to take her with her on that scouting run. She was one of the few now who realized how mortal he really was. They passed Runi and her attache of mechanics.

Should never have saved them on Mygeeto.

Just another dozen of lives counting on him.

And then finally arrived at the little makeshift starport. Most of the warriors of Vizsla were already here. They noticed him. Talks halted for a moment as they waited for… something.

For what? A speech? Some rousing words to inspire them? To get their adrenaline pumping and their hearts beating with pride?

This wasn’t that kind of story.

"Oya." the Clanfather simply said. It felt right. They were fighting for their survival, to establish a line from which they could thrive. It would be bloody, messy and there was little to no glory to be gained here.

But they replied anyway. It first started with a single woman a bit farther off in the left ranks.

"Oya." she shouted and others followed. Soon enough the field was filled by the screams of their resolve.

Ronan exchanged a look with Nikole. One which said: Don’t even say anything.

Then they loaded up and entered the ships that would carry them towards the frontlines of war.

 

[Zef Halo]

Location: DANTOOINE
Allies: Mandalorian Empire; [member="Ronan Vizsla"]; Vizslas; Anyone around.
Enemies: Soon™
Post: 6/20

The tons of supplies that Zef had hauled from Mandalorian Empire space to Dantooine from where the assault on Sinsang would be spearheaded with what seemed a resurrected Vizsla clan. The ex-smuggler knew about them, read some stories but didn't mind 'em at all as some Mandalorians did. Zef was a pretty chill guy and couldn't accept someone doing vendettas that are old as the galaxy. No point. His time as a scoundrel, which was nearly his whole life, taught him to read people. It was a skill absolutely necessary for one to survive in the underworld. Now, he saw how the Vizsla walked and talked. They were aiming to prove themselves. Not in the stupid way Death Watch tried to but in a true Mandalorian way. They were eager to show who they were.

That did not matter to Zef, though.

He just wanted to get this job done.

The Warmarshal had taken the pilot seat on one of the loaded with supplies ships that was bound to Sinsang. He could hear through the walls the 'Oya' chants of mostly Vizsla Mandalorians. That's what this ship carried. Vizslas and weapons.

"Hold tight, kids." His voice echoed through the comm channels on the ship as he pulled the lever for hyperspace.

War.

Again.

 

[Malok]

The Sentinel, Bridge

This felt wrong on so many levels. There was a pristine opportunity to see a paycheck with several zeroes on the end; but the boss himself had ordered me to stay put. Mand'alor-the-karking-Reclaimer personally instructed me, Enforcer Extraordinaire, to handle something that urgently needed attention. Sure, my job title was "Arakyd Rep", but come on. Ninety nine percent of my "job" consisted of pointing the business end of a blaster somewhere. Bah. There was no arguing with the man who signed your pay checks though, so here I was. Dressed in a monkey suit to boot.

"Let's get this over with." I said, half-waving to the communications' officer. Lights. Camera. Action. I was promptly patched through to the servers of InterGalactic Solutions: the fresh face of Titan Industries. Today, my job as Arakyd Rep was to utilize that minority shareholder status to make a purchase. You see, the Mandalorian Empire, while admittedly awesome, needed some naval bite to match their beskar-clad bark. And I just so happened to be the lucky representative who would make that happen.

"Hello. My name is Samuel Graves, Arakyd Industries Representative." I began, attempting to mimic that "business lingo" that the boss vomited all the time. "Our CEO apologizes for not personally attending this conference, for he is literally dealing with the undead." Best excuse ever. Seriously. Who could argue with that? "Oh you didn't show up for my party." "Sorry dude, Zombies." Anyway.

"We come to you today looking to make a sizable purchase. As you may be aware, our CEO has become the leader and founder of a new nation. That nation is in dire need of naval power: the sort that InterGalactic Solutions can easily provide."

Money was no object...right?

[member="Darell Irani"], [member="Danger Arceneau"]

 

[Danger Arceneau]

[member="Samuel Graves"]

The cerulean hologram of Danger Arceneau would bloom across one of the arrays. Her expression was ever cordial, her presence seemingly serene. Recent events had her and Alric spending more time with their adopted daughter Myra, and thus more and more of of the Conglomerate's business dealings subject to the oversight of Saffron or Aeri.

However, when it came to Intergalactic Solutions, there was still a personal touch that the Queen of Trade wanted to maintain. Mainly because she had been nominated by her peers and voted into the position. To not take care of things personally while she was fulfilling her voted term.

"Greetin's Mistah Graves, a pleasure to make your acquaintance." she gave an incline of her head, waiting for [member="Darell Irani"] to speak his hellos.