The King is Dead. Long Live the Queen (Mandalorian Empire)

[Quoron Cadera]

When the bomb went off Quoron saw the elder Viszla fall and kicked his jetpack on trying to escape the blast. He managed to escape the main destructive force but was flung toward a jagged column and he closed his eyes as he flung toward.

"CRACK!"

When he opened his eyes before he felt the searing pain rip through his arm, or what was left of it, he felt that he couldn't feel the fingers in his left arm or for that matter much of anything in the arm. He looked down and saw that the column he had impacted had sliced his arm off. Luckily other than that he only had minor injuries to the chest and legs. Things that would heal over time. If he made it out alive to the end of the day. He began to scream for all the pain that he had suppressed that day. He called out to anyone who he thought could hear him to save him from the pain, save him from the dishonor of not being able to feel his work again in his dominant hand. He pulled off his helmet and laid on the ground drifting in and out of consciousness hoping someone would carry him to safety.

 

[Kaden Farr]

Kaden retracted his Katars and saw the smile. A click followed and Kaden hit his jet pack. The concussive pulse sent Kaden flying uncontrollably into the wall out of the range of the blast radius, but it did not protect him from the damage of the debris which flew into him. His armor protected his vital organs, however the visor on his helmet shattered. His face was cut and a piece of the glass went into his right eye. There was no scream as Kaden passed out.

He didn’t know how long he was out, but Kaden came too. His head heart and while his sight was dark in one eye, he could feel the blood that ran down his cheek. He reached to put his hand down and push himself off the floor, but his arm had been crushed. Kaden didn’t feel blood from the area, what scared him more was that he didn’t feel it at all. Hishopenwas the armor protected it and that it would be salvaged later, but for now he had to get up.

His right hand pushed the debris off his left forearm. Adrenaline was keeping him moving. He pulled himself up to his feet to hear the challenges which were being thrown down. Limping over to the fray Kaden shot his pistol into the air to get everyone’s attention.

”Yasha... no. Ronan, stop.”

Kaden hobbled his way to the center of them.

”You forget the Laws of this Empire. Anyone claiming the rite of mantle must be approved by the Cuir’rekr and the Warmaster. This fight, it decides nothing. Even if you fight and even if you win Ronan, the Cuir’rekr decide whether a claim is valid. We know Ra is gone. The cuir’rekr are the ones to produce a candidate, and even if the people choose, the cuir’rekr have to give their blessing.”

His hand went up to give them the sign to stop.

”Stop the needless bloodshed. This was not because Yasha sat on a chair to confront Zambrano... She didn’t even claim the rite of mantle when she entered the room. This all happened because [member="Vilaz Munin"] launched a missile from his wrist. Lay this at the feet of the one responsible. If anyone should pay it should be Munin.”

Kaden turned to look at Yasha. What was the purpose of laws if they did not follow them? Why should Munin get away with the havoc his temper caused her again. It was time for the man to be held responsible for his actions.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"] [member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Tal Vizsla]

A shockwave struck him in the back, and he had to plant a foot on the remains of the throne to keep from being thrown on his face. Sometimes weighing in at a quarter of a tonne was a definite perk, he had to admit.

When he turned to regard the room, it was pretty much what he expected. Bodies were strewn across the floor, broken and bloodied and mangled. Some still lived, but a fair number he could sense had already passed on. Some weren't even full corpses, but stumps of legs and arms and half-bodies cut off at the waist. Most of these were clustered around the now-empty space from whence the most recent explosion had emanated, and if he remembered right had been the last location of one Rach Vizsla. Inciter of riots, and baiter of less clever men. Tal had no sympathy for the old man and his fate.

And speaking of baiting... He cast his gaze about until it found the man he sought, knelt next to the un-moving form of his wife.

You did this to yourself, Munin. Karking idiot.

He had a little sympathy for his vod, but only a little. Yes, Rach and Ronan had baited him into rash action, but he'd swallowed that bait of his own free will. Everything that happened after could be laid squarely at his feet. He may be an outstanding warrior and exceptional fighter, but by kriffing manda the man could get stupid when he let his ego lead the way. Tal had half a mind to walk over and slap him upside the head himself. Then again, he had half a mind to do that to half the karking room.

Instead, he simply stepped down off the dais and moved himself near to Yasha and Ronan. Where he could stay within reach to prevent outside influence if they actually did fight, but more importantly keep an eye on the sith this meeting had been intended for. Him, and his new astromech bodyguard.

[member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Goran"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Ronan Vizsla"]​

 

[Goran]

"Buddy, I wouldn't stand there if I were you," Goran said, its left arm and overabundance of firepower leveled at [member="Kaden Mantis"]. "Osik like that's why we're in this mess to begin with. I'll spare you the back in my day speech, but lemme tell ya, things ran a lot more smoothly when we had a sense of fun."

The Shard sighed heavily. It sounded something like the air pressure blowoff valve on a semi letting loose. It hadn't intended to say much, just do the whole menacing thug thing. It was nice to wear the armor from time to time. No one ignored it when it put on the Little Black Dress. But man, this guy was really rubbing it the wrong way.

"We don't need a damn throne, or a palace for that matter. That's some high class aruetiise crap right there. They'll fight, the winner takes the bucket, and if your damned Cuir’rekr decides they want it back, they can damn well try and take it. That's how Mando'ade do business."

The ominous hummmm of the E-webs kicked up a notch.

"I don't really wanna shoot anyone today-" a blatant lie if there ever was one "-but I'd sure as osik like to take my metallic ass back home and forget about that crazy chakaar Ra and his shenanigans. If that means burning you down so they can take care of business, so be it. Your call."

 

[Briika Munin]

There was a bright light shinning in the background of the otherwise area that was pitch black. It was so bright that it made Briika raise a hand up to shield her eyes. A moment later three shadows moved forward from the illumination towards her; the smaller one cradling something in their arms.

They were so close yet so far away. It took a second to two to make out the shimmering silhouettes that appeared before the blonde's azure gaze. They were members of her family that had marched on to the Manda... Did that mean she was dead as well? The eldest was Bree's father, Solus. The other male standing next to him was her older brother, Valen. The woman in front of them was her mother. The bundle in Kara's arms was Briika's infant son from her first marriage that didn't survive at birth.

A warm feeling flushed over Briika as they peered at her in an almost loving way. She smiled back at them longingly, wanting to run to them, but her feet wouldn't move.. All too soon a chill replaced the warmth as the shadows slowly disappeared back into the brightness and everything became dark again...


It was like she had been hit in the gut, knocking the wind of of her. Briika gasped for air and immediately tasted iron in her mouth, but the bitten flesh wasn't what pained her the most. The Baar'ur's head hurt so bad that it made her stomach lurch. She pushed away from whomever was dragging her along and fell to her knees before vomiting violently.

After finishing, she sat down onto her haunches and wiped her mouth off on a gauntlet hand. The blonde tried to raise her head up to look around, but became dizzy so she closed her blue-green eyes again; catching a glimpse of armor that was all too familiar near by.

"Vilaz... ? What... happened?" Bree asked with a thick tongue from injury; the medic's head swimming with confused thoughts and wishing she could curl up in a ball on the ground.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]

 

[Lemon]

A man forged in war knew everything he needed to know to gain the advantage, and press it. Certainly something that Fett held at this moment in time. With his hands gripped tightly onto Kaine's arm, and gauntlet, he tucked down to the left with all the force he could muster. Surely lifting the man over his shoulder. In doing so the Beskad was unable to strike it's fatal and fleshy blow. Fett's helmet and contemptuous gaze cast itself upon Yasha Mantis who spoke to Ronan Vizsla. They were to fight for the title, and to end this conflict. It was something he had to protect, or simply witness. It would determine his own fate.

The Mandalorian rushed over, finding himself behind Kaden who seemingly feared for his wife's life. The carbine that hung by it's slung was snatched into Fett's hands and raised upwards to Kaden's head. "This is how it ends, Mantis. Let it be."​ A scowl resting upon his face. Fett couldn't let him interfere, and even still, the bounty hunter lowered his carbine shortly afterwards. The message had been sent.

A Fett, by all means, could never come within a sliver of being fond of a Vizsla. Yet after today a certain fondness had been formed, perhaps an indifference. Vizsla was to give Mantis her challenge when Fett would not for reasons of his own. Regardless, he had to respect Vizsla for that.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"] | [member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Kaine Australis"] | [member="Kaden Mantis"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Goran"]​

 

[Gray Raxis]

With his boots stuck to the side of the building holding him up, Gray's hand seemed to have caught a hold of [member="Dorn Skirata"] before he plunged to his doom. His only hope was for his crushgaunts to dig into the other man's armor as well even though it would likely leave a nasty bruise. Even though he could tell from how limp and yielding the weight in his right hand felt, he called out, " Can you hear me? Are you awake and aware?" No response. That was what he expected. The important part though was that he had the man and hopefully he was still alive just unconscious. Being blind was getting old fast in this chaos.

Before Gray could even think of his next move though, he heard [member="Baiko no Kaho"] call out his name from above and behind him. Not long after came the explosion and the sound of clothing moving through the air. Not armor, clothing. This was bad. The only ones who wouldn't be in armor in the throne room were [member="Darth Carnifex"] , his son, and Baiko. He knew Kaine's son was dead from the shots fired followed by the bellow.... But wait. He wasn't hearing just one ruffling of cloth through the air. He was hearing two. One was more to his right and the other to his left. His right hand was already being used to hold up one person so he could only hope to save one more in this situation. Kark the idiotic fear of the force going on right now. He could save more people if only he could use telekinesis to slow their falls. But that wasn't how this was going to play out so all he could do was swing his left arm out and try to catch whoever was on that side of him.

Gray felt his hand connect with an arm and from the size of it knew it had to be Baiko. The Dark Lord was just going to have to figure this one out on his own it seemed. He gripped tight like he had with Dorn and was sure it was going to bruise up after. He tensed up and then felt the jerk of her weight trying to pull him down. His arm felt like it was going to pull out of it's socket just like it had when he caught Dorn, but his bracing and the maglocks kept him from falling with them. He called out, " How are you feeling Baiko?!" Why was he asking? He knew already. She had taken an explosion in cloth and was sent out the window. She wasn't okay. Sneering under his helmet, he knew he was just going to have to power through this and try to get them to safety.

The best place for him to go right now was back to the window. Gray knew it was a stupid idea since anything could be happening there, but it was the only real plan left. He began to slowly walk his way up. Praise to the Manda that Mandalorians used metal to build their building that maglock boots worked on. Each step was careful and slow. He was blind so his feet were having to do the seeing for him in finding the window. Every second that past brought about more strain and more pain to every muscle in his body. Nothing was safe from this exercise in stubbornness. Both of his arms felt like they were about to be pulled out of their sockets at every turn. Hopefully that didn't happen or he would end up dropping the both of them. Yelling and chaos echoed out from above him, but the increasing intensity told him he was getting closer. Minutes or just seconds had past while he was making the backwards climb up the wall while holding onto the two victims of the window's insidious murder plot. Finally though he felt part of his foot not being on solid material anymore and slide it back down just enough he had secure footing.

While lifting his entire upper body and legs up, Gray yelled out, " MEDIC!!!" The two were becoming level with the window seal. He thankfully was tall for a human so that got their arms up, but he knew their heads wouldn't be clear of it. They needed to have their upper bodies easy to grab. He screamed out in pain and fury as he lifted his arms up to allow that to happen. Then once he guessed they were about right he held them their. He didn't know how long he could hold them there for, but he wasn't going to let them go now. He was going to save their lives even if it killed or crippled him further.

[member="Briika Tor-Munin"] [member="Vilaz Munin"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

Around them the floor was bloody, corpses both scorched and burning littering it. The sounds of the wounded filling the air, the sounds of armor and weapons ringing filling the gaps, there was a pace... but it was tentative. Only illustrated by Koda's immediate rebuke of Kaden's words with his rifle. Ronan had never expected to find any form of respect for Clan Fett, but here they were.

Shysa (some of them still alive, crumbling around the gaps of their dead leader, but regrouping quickly), Fett and Vizsla.

A combination unheard of, until today.

"A man's law is only as strong as the man's will to enforce it, Kaden Mantis." Ronan responded in the void left by Koda's warning. The tension was rising again as those within the room started to wonder about Clan Mantis' intention. The Mand'alor hopeful had accepted a challenge, even claimed that she had been planning on it throughout the entire day.

But now her husband's words cast doubt on that.

"Ra's gone. So is Spar, as is Malika. " Head tilted as Ronan looked around the room to find their Akaan. "Your hound of war is in the wind, fleeing to avoid reprisal. If you acknowledge that these events were set in motion by Munin's folly... then I advise you to find him. Quick. Before he slips away." If he did, then Yasha would never manage to regain the face she had lost today. Mand'alor or not.

"The laws of an absent man hold no weight to the needs of today. Yasha Mantis, do you withdraw your participation in my challenge?"

Today's events showed that Ronan cared not for the new ways. He had smeared the throne room in crimson and ashes, because he believed it had been the only way to restore them back to the path that would be their redemption.

The opinions and laws of the dead did not matter.

[member="Tal Vizsla"] [member="Gray Raxis"] [member="Koda Fett"] [member="Briika Tor-Munin"] [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Kaden Mantis"] [member="Quoron Viszla"] [member="Tamara Wren"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Goran"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Kalad Shysa"] [member="Rach Vizla"] [member="Caius Fett"]​

 

[Tamara Wren]

Tamara gritted her teeth, not looking down at her hand where it pressed against her abdomen. Leaning her head back against the wall, she closed her eyes for a minute. It wasn't that bad. She was still standing after all. The agony slowly blossoming through her core? The way her knees and hands shook? Nothing at all to worry about.

She didn't know if she were correct or if she were trying to convince herself, but she wasn't sure it really mattered in that moment.

Trying to muster the capacity again to move, an unfamiliar voice spoke and she opened her eyes, blinking in confusion.

"Well that's good, one of us should," she replied, a little stupidly. And then, to make matter worse- "I like your hair."

She was bleeding from a stab wound to the abdomen and all she could think at that moment beyond oh gods it hurts and I will pretend like it doesn't was I like your hair.

Of course, the confusion didn't end there.

"What's my what?"

How much blood had she lost anyway?

It wasn't really until she saw the concern on the other woman's face and let up her own pressure on the wound to turn the care of it over to Adora that she realized just how serious the situation was. As she moved her hand to let the lavender haired woman work, the bleeding started again- not fast and furious but slow and thick- less of it than their should be externally which meant that too much of it was likely bleeding internally. Tamara didn't know much about first aid, didn't realize that it was a bad sign that she wasn't bleeding that much, which only added to the confusion.

"That's a bad look on your face," she tried to joke, but her face paled beneath the tattoos. She was starting to feel a little woozy.

[member="Adora Namadi"] [member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Vilaz Munin]

As he was dragging his wife, Bree regain consciousness and fell down to her knees. She began vomiting which was all thanks to what had happened in the throne room. The Munin kneeled down beside his wife, putting a hand on her shoulder. She had asked him what had happened. What could he tell her? He was always honest with his wife, but now was not the time to answer her questions. Perhaps some other time, but he had to get her to safety where a medical droid could attend her. He was an awful medic and the most he could do was apply a bandage or some bacta patches on himself.

"Hang on, Bree. Just stay with me," was all he could say to her as he place her arm around him and continued dragging them.

"Dalso, get the ship to these coordinates," he ordered to one of his clansmen via commlink that piloted his freighter. Along with being an awful medic, he was also a bad pilot. The warrior on the comms noticed Vilaz's tone and asked him what had happened.

"Just get the damn ship here...now," he said in a frustrated voice, and Dalso complied without asking anymore questions.

"A few more moments, Bree. Just a few more," he said to his wife. How much longer could he managed? He felt like he was about to fall down any moment from how his injuries weakened him.

[member="Briika Tor-Munin"]

 

[Briika Munin]

There was worry in her riduur's tone. Was it just about Briika's condition, or was it something else? He hadn't exactly answered her earlier question, but more so reacted by contacting his pilot. It was hard for the baar'ur to think too hard on the matter as a Drummer's Corps was playing in her head, but she tried to help stand up as Vilaz put her arm around his broad shoulders again and pulled his wife back up off the floor.

"I'll try, Vil'ika. My head hurts real bad," Bree answered wearily feeling another wave of nausea building up as she stood upright. She most likely at the very least had a concussion. Whether there was a brain bleed was to be seen.

A few breaths were taken, and eyes kept closed... It seemed to help stay the dizziness and her stomach lurching for the moment as the Munins stumbled along down the corridor it seemed on sheer will. Was the Concordian injured as well? Normally Briika would have stopped him to see, but she was in no condition at the moment to take care of anyone.

The dazed Briika had no idea where they were now in the palace, but soon enough fresh air greeted the blonde's pasty face. Well it wasn't exactly fresh as destruction still lingered in the outdoor air of the dome. The sound of a familiar ship's engines was heard flying overhead, then landing nearby on its repulsorlifts. It was the Tarka'yayr. The medbay on the Akaan's vessel was state of the art. Briika had seen to it.

"I just want to go home and hold Kayra." Bree whispered with her golden head resting upon her husband's shoulder pauldron. "...I saw them."


[member="Vilaz Munin"]

 

[Adora Namadi]

There was so much blood. Oh, gods, there was so much blood. She offered an awkward, forced little grin at the mention of her hair - it was about time someone appreciated it - but otherwise was completely caught up in the scramble of trying to remember what first aid she'd learned. What was the next step? Why wouldn't the bleeding stop?

"You're what?" Her brow furrowed, not quite sure what the other woman was talking about. What had she said? She'd asked her name, right? Oh...oh. Yeah, conversation really wasn't her strong suit, especially in such a situation. "Oh, yeah, y-your name. What's your name?"

"You should lay down." That was a thing, right? Get her on the ground so Adora could better work. Her hands were stained by the blood - and it just never stopped. Her eyes widened taking in everything, teeth clamping down on her lip. With a sharp inhale, it hit her. This was wrong, this was all wrong. That wasn't the right kind of blood for something someone could just recover from, certainly not from any sort of medical care Adora was capable of. She was a scientist, not a medic. There was a pit in her stomach as she realized she didn't know what to do.

"You're certainly not in good shape," she said with a nervous laugh, trying how to mask just how freaked out she was. She wanted to say everything was going to be okay, but really she had no clue.

[member="Tamara Wren"] | @Ronan Viszla​

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Sela! Help [member="Adora Namadi"]. Bring the medics, clear the wounded to the infirmary. Yusalis, clear the dead. Fen'kris, help Gray! He's about to drop two people out a window, see to that. Ambrose, send Death Watch after [member="Vilaz Munin"] and arrest him… secure the room.” Yasha ordered and the Yalilyr swooped into action, splitting into four groups. Some went with Sela as Medics, checking the dead and wounded. Some went with Yusalis and began to clear the dead to the side. Some still went with Ambrose, pikes and rifles raised to surround those still standing, in case another bought of ludicrous fighting broke out.

The pistols and guns facing members of the room got nothing but the dull eyed scan of a woman who had been in and seen far worse. Tension plied around her, tidal waves stronger than the Force Storm Ember Rekali used to blow the TSAC.

She stepped to her lover, her riduur of less than three days, and held him up for a breath. “This isn’t about the Mantle, Kaden, they didn’t see me in the Civil War. They didn’t endure the Netherworld with us. If they need a fight to see what I can do? To feel respected? That’s fair. Thank you for trying to protect our little family. I love you, I’ll be fine. Medic! My husband needs you. [member="Tal Vizsla"], make sure Kaden’s safe, please.”

Rolling her shoulders one at a time, Yasha felt the cracks and pops in the joints and stepped toward [member="Ronan Vizsla"]. “Cool your jets, Mandos. All of you! Embarrassing yourselves. I already said I’d fight, don’t put doubter’s words in my mouth.”

Stretching out her fingers, Yasha stared at Ronan. “You advise me? Want to keep advising? I have an opening, it’s Vilaz-sized but hey, you’re eager. It’s a shame to lose good warriors over a wrist rocket and a broken chair. Vilaz Munin did an inexcusable thing then ran like a coward. He should have known better than to fire a rocket in a crowded room, but ultimately he should have known better than to attack at all. There was no need for fighting to start. These deaths are on his head, and once this is over, we Mandos will do what we do best. Chase after and take him. This day is not about the Mantle Ra left behind. It’s about whether or not the Mando’ade will walk into their annihilation, or run into it. I’d like to figure out the full scale of the plot to frame [member="Darth Carnifex"] and start a Sith-Mando war. I’d like to know how many people were involved, and whether the Outer Rim Coalition is to blame. That way, Ronan, we can point our massive guns at the right target, instead of shooting each other like teenaged boys who discovered they have hands and can lock their bedroom doors…”

Yasha sucked on her cheeks and scanned the room, settling on Kaine and his guard. “… ‘Cause don’t you think it’s funny, Ronan, that the day after the Dark Lord offers his son to me in marriage, and Vilaz advises me to be Mrs. Zambrano, Munin fires a rocket into a crowd of Mandalorians, when we had the Dark Lord himself kneeling at our feet, to explain why his goons killed a high ranking government official? I’m suspicious… so why aren’t you?”

She walked into the middle of the room, warhammer in hand. “Oh right. You wanted a fight. Come on, then. The sooner we fight, the sooner I can get back to ensuring there is a Mandalore tomorrow. Figuring this mess out is going to take some doing.”

[member="Tal Vizsla"] [member="Gray Raxis"] [member="Koda Fett"] [member="Briika Tor-Munin"] [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Kaden Mantis"] [member="Quoron Viszla"] [member="Tamara Wren"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Goran"] [member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

Words.

Words cascading from her tongue as easy as blood flowed from a wounded warrior. It overwhelmed, it came eager, it wanted to stream because it was all that it knew how to do.

Yasha Mantis was a talker.

This much was becoming clear to Ronan. Where one word sprung, an entire forest followed next and the Vizsla Alor was growing weary of it. There were places to talk, places to settle words keenly next to one another to shape the world as one pleased. But the field of battle was not one of them. No matter what she thought, no matter what her husband or her other allies figured. She could ignore the way she slaughtered Kyra and discarded her easily, her others could too, but the time for words had ended long ago.

This floor was stained with blood and battle had burned its print into it.

"You make me repeat myself, Yasha Mantis." Ronan said wearily, as he accepted his helmet from one of the Vizsla, his hand curling tight around the beskar lid, letting his armored finger rub against the edge. "I do not care about this supposed plot of yours. Your Mantis clanswoman went to war, she was captured, she was executed. Who did it, why, is the business of Clan Mantis."

He rolled his shoulders, stretched his neck and around them the circle closed.

Warriors of Vizsla, of Shysa and of Fett, presumably of hers as well, made the circle of crimson.

"We are Mando'ade. Children of war and blood and ash. When we go to battle, we know it is to face death." A shrug followed. "Those that supposedly tried to frame the Dark Lord had no knowledge of us, or they would know that their plot would not have ignited the fire of crusade." Now Ronan snorted, before the helmet sealed itself against his armor and only the black visor remained.

Only the clinical touch of his voice ringing through his armor.

"The fact that you are trying to make it the problem of the clans, means you know us just as well as these supposed plotters of yours." Now look at what the child was doing... making him a talker. Make his tongue loose and let it shape words like water, like weightless air in the wind.

The scowl was hidden behind the visor, but it was there.

An axe joined the beskad, both at ready. No words anymore. Only the fight. He lightly went through his knees and ignored the pain in his side. Ignored the sound of the Mandalorians beating their fist against their breastplates. It was the shape of a heartbeat, it got the adrenaline going, but Ronan did not seek passion in this moment. Instead it was the void and the silence he looked for.

The silence of her death.

[member="Tal Vizsla"] [member="Gray Raxis"] [member="Koda Fett"] [member="Briika Tor-Munin"] [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Kaden Mantis"] [member="Quoron Viszla"] [member="Tamara Wren"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Goran"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Kalad Shysa"] [member="Rach Vizla"] [member="Caius Fett"]​

 

[Tal Vizsla]

A single nod was Tal's only response to [member="Yasha Mantis"], and perhaps later he might reflect on the ease with which he took the order. Maybe even realize just how much the defeat of his monster had changed him. For now, however, he simply continued on to her husband's side, hoisting [member="Kaden Mantis"] off her as she moved to the makeshift ring and holding him aloft until the medics arrived to tend him.

He was two steps into following them when he glanced aside at the body of [member="Kyra"], lying where Yasha's hammer, the hammer he had built, had ended her life. He couldn't have said what made him do it, the feeling was far too foreign to him to be granted a name, but he stepped aside to her body and carefully scooped her into his arms before following the medics out of the hall. It may be that the blow was too much, that she was far too gone already to be brought back, but he had the feeling he needed to try, and try he would.

It didn't even occur to him that during that entire explosion of violence, he hadn't even tried to take a single life. Perhaps later, he might marvel at the fact.

 

[Lemon]

And so this was the end. It would end where it began; the throne room wet with blood, littered with corpses and ash. It was a sight to behold, that much was certain. Members of Clan Mantis, Munin, Kyrze, Vizsla, Shysa and Fett had pried their hands from one another's throats to witness what would be their fate, determined by two warriors; one worthy, and one faux. Clan Fett was smaller in size in comparison to so many others, yet they often found themselves famed even among Mandalorians. Although, who they were mattered not today. Against such numbers that dwarfed them, Clan Fett had found itself with dwindling numbers. No more than twenty stood firm and strong amidst the sea of beskar that watched with keen eyes.

Fetts were too proud and stubborn to falter in the eye of adversity. A quality not lost in the Fett who stood within the inner-circle.

None of which mattered now in this conclusion to be had. All Fett could do was stand in silence and watch. He knew, however, if the girl was to emerge victorious his back was all this Empire would see as he walked away from it all.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"] | [member="Tal Vizsla"] | [member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Gray Raxis"] | [member="Briika Tor-Munin"] | [member="Kaine Australis"] | [member="Kaden Mantis"] | [member="Quoron"] Vizsla | [member="Tamara Wren"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Goran"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | @Kalad Shysa | @Rach Vizla | [member="Caius Fett"]

 

[Vilaz Munin]

There was no time to talk. He heard his wife speak to him and while he didn't like ignoring her, he had to. He felt that talking would suck up his energy and time, more importantly his energy. So little of it that he had to conserve it wisely.

The couple reached the exit to the palace and could feel the breeze rush over them and the scent of fresh air. Where they fighting back there? Who knew, but he didn't care. If any of his clansmen were still alive and able to mobilize, they'd most likely get out of there by now and find their Alor. Before the steps to the palace, ascending and descending in whatever direction you go, Vilaz kneeled down on his two knees pulling his wife with him too.

He felt...exhausting. It was hard to breathe, hard to focus, hard to do anything. The familiar sightings of his personal ship came into view and it brought relief to him. It was coming as fast as it could.

Suddenly blaster fire was heard, and it was aiming for him and Bree. The soldiers were not part of his clan, but part of the Yalilyr that was loyal to Yasha. Was the Munin an enemy? He could not decipher what was going on, but he did know one thing: defend himself and his wife. Now he was far from being able to fight considering his enemies, but he was smart enough what to do. With his one good arm he threw a stun grenade at the charging squad of Mandalorians and it would detonate on impact. It was nothing lethal, but it would sure knock out some of them. With that the cherry on top was with shooting out the missile on his repulsor-pack towards the group and kill or injure anyone near it.

The ship was coming closer and it would provide aid for Vilaz and Bree with the situation they were facing.

[member="Briika Tor-Munin"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Yasha came to one conclusion as she bent her knees and widened her stance, diagonal to [member="Ronan Vizsla"]. These Mandalorians lacked a galactic perspective.

Wolf hammer in both gauntleted hands, Yasha felt the constriction of her grip, she watched Ronan’s stance, the way he held beskad and axe. She smirked. Her finger was already on the hammer’s controls. Charging up. She needed to keep level, to ply her speed and take what advantages she could. Strafing within five meters of Ronan, Yasha waited for his move.

“I’m not the one that made it Mandalore’s problem, Ronan. I’m the one who realized what most of us have already figured out. It is a Mandalore problem.”

The Rekr Karyatesa, the Wolfhammer was a weapon crafted by [member="Tal Vizsla"]. Shockwaves powerful enough to rend armour rested within the capable and lethal Arc Caster. A roar of lightning arced from the hammer, strong enough to electrocute beskar’gam’s internal circuitry and frag HUD.

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Kyra"] had noticed it first and perhaps [member="Yasha Mantis"] should have realized it by the speed that Vizsla had put her cyborg in front of the path of the hammer.

Ronan was far, far faster than a man his size had any right to be.

He did not fight like a young man, did not lose himself in the revelry no more. Every move of his was conservative, not out of necessity, but out of experience. The knowledge that an action you took could not be undone once it was executed. [member="Vilaz Munin"] had learned that lesson today and Yasha would get a taste of that once more. As the electrical blast ran through the air, crossing five meters in a matter of seconds, it did not find Ronan Vizsla at the end of it.

The Alor had dashed to the side. Narrowly escaping being electrocuted to death and instead only had a black scorch burned into his gauntlet and a numb fist around the hilt of his axe.

But those that had formed a circle around them to pay tribute and stand vigil?

The blast crashed into the Mandalorian ranks. Lethal at twenty meter, the Mandalorians stood little chance against the unexpected onslaught. The crowds were thick with Mandalorians of every allegiance. The arc shocked and electrocuted them all without discrimination. Another blow against her ability to lead, to fight without killing her own.

First Kyra. Now them.

Brash, young and acting without thinking. Lacking the experience necessary.

Every action Ronan took underlined those arguments and every action Yasha took was strengthening his case. He didn't allow her to recover, instead Ronan rushed at her while the charred scent of her Mandalorians poured through the air. Within the span of two seconds he was already upon her. Strength and speed came together as his beskad was angled just right, swiping at the fragile points of her knees and using his momentum to carry it.

Force her to defend herself, force her back and not allow her to consider and think.

 

[Briika Munin]

The fight or flight instinct was kicking in now. Even though Briika's head was feeling like it could explode from the pressure with in it any moment, she knew they had to make it to their ship that had landed. Willing herself to overcome, the blonde opened her eyes again. The Baar'ur's blurry gaze finally seeing just how injured her riduur was. He was barely able to maintain himself upright while defending them, or more so her. She knew the Concordian only too well. He would go to the ends of the galaxy for her.

The question still lingered though in Briika's mind as to why this all was happening. Palace guards were shooting at them now. What the hell happened inside that Force forsaken Throne Room while she was gone? Only bits and pieces of memory were coming back. Bree had gone to the fresher while the Mando'ade bickered as usual. There had been some kind of explosion outside the palace along with the dome being cracked (Didn't they just fix that from the time before?!), then she remembered standing in the hallway and opening the ornate doors only to be hit by a blast from within...

Briika closed one eye as it seemed to make her less dizzy and nauseous, then she took a few steps on shaky yet stable enough legs over to Vilaz's side just as the boarding ramp on the Tarka'yayr lowered and clansmen from inside ran down to give them cover fire.

"Come, cyar'ika... It is time to leave these ruins. There is nothing more for us here. Mandalore is dead, and has been since that fateful day," she stated, this time putting his uninjured arm around her shoulders and helping him towards the ship. Together they were stronger than one, and that is how it would always be.

[member="Vilaz Munin"]