The Next Generation [ Aka'liit & Mandalorians ]

[Drof'del Tavor]

Drof mentally enjoyed the fact the battle-hardened general approved of his answer. It was almost like a mentor approving of their pupil--at least thats how he felt.

Vode, he reflected the general's response with sincerity, Drof really had nothing to fight for before all this, except to avenge his parents' death. He was just an empty husk- no one to fight for, no one to ally with- no one.
The young mercenary saw wisdom in the general's words and gave a respectful nod

"I....I never...had anyone to fight for/ with. I originally fought for myself, to avenge people i loved. I....can see where you are coming from but i have never had that feeling, not yet at least."

Even though he couldn't relate to Ardgal he could see where his words were coming from, he was comparing his answer to that of his loved ones
"Kaladon and Briel, is who i fought for. They were killed.....so I fought to avenge them."
Drof never spilled his guts, and he almost regretted it. Kandorro- his uncle taught him that people see it as weakness and to not reveal it.

He was internally beating himself up now.

This last question punched Drof right in the chest, he was unsure-- who the kriff was this man? Does he wish to be a mentor? Does he want to mentally mess with him? The possibilities varied and were multiple, but Drof was raised to answer to his superiors, no matter who so he nodded once more and mustered another reply

"To make sure there is a future, fighting for a cause, not for self-profit but for self-preservation. Civilizations survive because of the wars they won and how durable their people are. Languages last longer than those who speak it--in a sense. To sacrifice fellow vode? I would only make a sacrifice if it meant to preserve my people and ensure their safety."

Drof was a mercenary but at heart, he cared for his father's people--his people. He felt a strong bond the moment he landed on Dxun, but couldn't tell what it was. At this moment Drof knew that this general wasn't just asking random questions, he had an endgame, but what? He was getting more nervous as time went on. He has nothing to lose being truthful to the man.

[member="Ardgal Raxis"]

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Parents. Ardgal saw a pair of faces flash before his eyes he hadn't seen or been able to envision since before Project: Madman had started. It caught the usually unflappable man off guard, his face showed it. His father--Monroe, and his mother Jenna, and then Ordo who had been like a father to him after they passed had all died, leaving him to take up their mantle. It was just a matter of whittling down, one by one, all of them died.

Everyone dies. Everyone goes. And I am just left here. Alive.

Ardgal placed his meaty hand on the younger man's shoulder. He didn't display emotion, mainly because he didn't feel it anymore. There was nothing human left in him that didn't happen in rare sparks when the conditioning of Madman slipped for a moment or two. The other part he didn't know how to express anymore.

"Losing people changes you, it hurts. Never forget that feeling. Cherish it. Because one day you will be too dead inside to feel anything anymore," Just like me, he thought to himself.

"You lose people, there is no other good reason to go to war. Never forget that. People will tell you to fight for honor," he said the word with disdain, "to right wrongs or do good but to hell with that. Never fight for honor's sake, that's pure osik. Its just a reason to get you to take what someone else has. You take what they got, you do that damn it with all you got if you have to in order to put bread on the table, but don't do it for honor or petty sh!t."

He stopped himself, taking his hand from Tavor's shoulder. Ardgal didn't realize he was getting preachy, and no one wanted a preachy biological/cyborg experiment.

"So what do you do with that?"

[member="Drof'del Tavor"]

 

[Drof'del Tavor]

Drof felt a jolt once the man placed his hand on his shoulder. It was surprising, yet he did not move his hand away. The general had words of wisdom so he would listen and hear him out.

"Losing people changes you, it hurts.Never forget that feeling. Cherish it.Because one day you will be too dead inside to feel anything anymore,"

He nodded with affirmation and added "That it does, i dont feel the same anymore. I do however, want to make sure i do right by them in all aspects"
Drof listened on as Ardgal was explaining how honor is used as a motivator to take what someone else has. He wasn't wrong.

Then Ardgal posed him with his next question. What do i do with that? Haran, i have not thought about that. Best not make up an answer
He took a slight breath and gave his reply.

"What do i do with that? Sir, i dont believe i have an answer for that.....you have asked me very deep questions, i hate to disappoint you but i have no idea....I just...want to make sure my buir is not rolling in his grave. It would be nice if i had a profitable future but my blood is all i have at this point and all that i will honor. No friends or kin is present. I fight like haran to make do with what i got"

Drof'del was confused multiple ways. What is going on here? Is this a test? He felt a sliver of aggravation-- the unknown makes him somewhat impatient, and he felt heartache looking back on the past few years.

[member="Ardgal Raxis"]

 

[Strider Garon]

The old man felt the pint size body impact upon his thigh and fall backwards. He looked over, and there she was. The daughter of Satine. Before his naked eyes were his grandchildren and he barely knew them. His own reputation was well ingrained into most mandalorains including the younger generations. Hell, most of his bastards only knew him by reputation alone and why would it be different for these two? Strider had spent his entire life on the field of battle, was a rare occasion for him to settle at home and put his feet up. Seldom it was he was not in the middle of bloodlust, violence and all its gore. Its all he had known. Many would say he was the father of the mandalorians, the old man, wise and full of knowledge and experience. The marshal that had help forge the mighty empire they once held.

He was a flawed man. A failed father, an absent grandfather and non existent family man. Was no more then just a acquaintance to most of his kin, sides from his brother. Deep down he had always hated his inability to hold attachment. Death though usually the be all end all event in ones life seem to have only landed a glancing blow on the hound of keldabe. Possible it was a second chance, a new lease to life. A time to fix some wrongs as to be late than never.

The two children were going to know their grandfather, so were the rest of his family. But here on Dxun, the demon moon, the two needed a mentor more then a dotting grandpa. Training was the order of the day.

"Get up!" His words were sharp and merciless, even at the forefront of innocent baby blue hues staring back at him.

He looked back over to his grandson "Don't you dare salute me again, boy! The galaxy is full of enemies of the mandalorians and you showing me the respect of an officer is the best way to get me killed by snipers!"

[member="Kaylanna Detta"] [member="Corvus Detta"]

 

[Corvus Detta]

Corvus saw Kaylanna bounce off Strider and then felt a cold chill shoot down his spine when he was accosted for saluting. He instantly dropped his arm and straightened up.

"No ceta, ba'buir."

Corvus moved to aid Kaylanna and stood by her side. They were the youngest members of the new recruits and by far the most famous lineage. Corvus planned to be as infamous as his father and grandfather equally.

"Where should we start? I want to be like you."

[member="Kaylanna Detta"] [member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Jagen Wren]

"Sushir verd'ika, ibic aka liser cuyir burk'yc. K'oyacyi! (Listen little soldier, this mission can be dangerous. Stay alive!)" Jagen barked in fluent Mando'a, looking over his soldier at the young teenager who was to be accompanying to a very dangerous mission on the moon of Dxun. Earlier in the week a Drexl nest was found by a scout and some at the camp thought it would be the perfect opportunity for young ones to put their combat to use. Jagen had volunteered to mentor the boy, and have his back as they both disposed of the nest and the violent creatures inside. "Elek elek, naas bah baatir. (Yeah yeah, nothing to worry about.)" said the young one behind him, grinning underneath the helmet of his borrowed eukgar'gam.

"K'olar! Vaabir gar susulur ibac? (Come here! Do you hear that?)" Jagen asked, stopping in his track. The young one shook his head and stared as Jagen looked around a rock to find a Drexl feasting on a dead animal. "Hukaatir ni! (Cover me!)" Jagen whispered as he raised his blaster carbine and approached the beast with its back turned to him.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

So the kid was still living out of guilt. He was living a dead man's life, not his own, his Buir's life and not his. But am I any different? the thought crossed his mind. He had left alpha company after the death of his parents, to find the world his own way. Then he came back and took the mantle of the general over them for Ordo. They still looked up to him for guidance, and why did he do those things? Why did he come back, why did he take the mantle? Why did he come back even now?

To make them proud. Ardgal guessed there was still a shred of humanity somewhere lost deep inside him. Or maybe he was just really here for what he told everyone else and he really was the heartless monster that Project: Madman had made him to be.

"That's all you have to do," he said with a nod.

Maybe this kid would die a tragic death and be heralded as a hero. Or maybe he would live to sing songs about his comrades in arms who went before him. Ardgal had it in his mind that he'd like to think he could help the later happen over the former by showing him things you couldn't learn anywhere else from anyone else. And that started by learning to be feral.

He pulled the Ravager from its place, strapped behind him against the small of his back, "Ditch the armor and come with me. Oya, we're going hunting."

[member="Drof'del Tavor"]

 

[Drof'del Tavor]

"That's all you have to do,"

Drof'del nodded slowly but in an understanding way. As long as he tried his best, that is all he could ever guarantee with anything. This man reminded him so much of his uncle Kandorro- wise, experienced and above all else- had a code that he lived by. Drof'del respected that and respected Ardgal for taking the time to exchange words with him.

He made note of the weapon Ardgal drew out of place, it was a beautiful weapon and very intricate.
"Oya! Very well vod"
Drof slapped a new power cell in his aged carbine.
As far as his armor goes, he was very sentimental and didnt want to leave it in the open

"Any idea where i can stash my gear until we return sir?"

A hunt? How exciting, perhaps i will be fighting by this man's side until i live my final days. I can't afford to mess this up now. I have to learn everything i can.
[member="Ardgal Raxis"]

 

[Briika Munin]

First Aid/Mando'a Lessons
Outpost's Central Outdoor Area

Briika caught the behemoth's shadow out of the corner of her azure eyes before turning her golden head to see full on the one called [member="Malok"] approach the table where she had spread out the contents of a medpac; a soldier's best friend next to his weapons and smarts. The massive ape was certainly a big fella, fierce yet had a gentle way about him if those two could even go together, at least from what she'd observed so far from a distance.

Being one of the few fully trained medics within the Faithful ranks, Bree felt it was important for her to help train others at least in the basics of emergency medicine. Time was always a factor and could make the difference if one lived or died on the battlefield when advanced care wasn't available immediately. She was always taught the first sixty minutes or as it was called the "Golden Hour" was the most important, though from her experience it was the first minute and the next thirty that were even more crucial especially if the patient was bleeding out or had internal injuries.

"Su'cuy, ner vod.... Which means hello, my brother in Mando'a, the language of the Mandalorians or Mando'ade," Bree said flashing a warm smile already giving the seeker of knowledge his first lesson in Mando speak, then she motioned to the bench for Malok to sit on so they were more eyes level with each other being the golden blonde barely was five-seven with her boots on.

"I would love to teach you both... Do you have any medical knowledge to start with just so I know how in depth to go?"

 

[Darth Metus]

When the proper form of Mando'a reached his ears, the Behemoth could not help but smile all the more. The words were light, devoid of judgment, and Malok made absolutely certain to remember every syllable. When motioned to join [member="Briika Tor"] at the bench, the towering Ma'alkerrite did so. Gingerly. He slowly eased his massive posterior onto the seat, careful not to jostle the woman or to devastate the seat. Once he was at eye-level with the Medic, he attempted to repeat her words properly.

"Su'cuy, ner'vod."

Given the size of his grin, it was immediately evident that Malok was pleased with himself. Now, on the subject of medicine, the truth was simple. The Ma'alkerrite didn't know squat.

"I know...next to nothing." he admitted.

 

[Kaylanna Detta]

[member="Corvus Detta"] | [member="Strider Garon"]

Kaylanna looked up from where she lay on the ground mad that she had fallen down, mad that this man made to hurt her brother. She rolled over and reached for Corvus' hand as she stood up.

What as it that Corvus called him, ba'buir . She didn't remember a living ba'buir. She looked up at him and did not recognize him. But if he was going to be their trainer she knew she had to afford him some respect even if he did yell all the time.

She wasn't sure she looked at Corvus, "Why are you calling him grandfather?" As far as she knew their grandfathers were gone, had marched beyond their sight. She tilted her head again, she was clearly confused.

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

"Mm," Ardgal grunted with a nod of his head.

He turned and made his way back down the path to the small cottage he had spent the night in. It would be empty, minus the few Godkillers waiting by, and Doctor Taylor who was biding his time. None of them would touch the armor, they all worked for Ardgal or in some way were worshipful of him.

He waited as Drof secured his armor before leading the man into the local wildlife beyond the Outpost of Dxun. With his shotgun in hand the warrior began deftly weaving through the jungle. He moved quickly for a man of 300 pounds of pure muscle. His feet barely left tracks across the murky green floor as he probed deeper into the jungle. His mind and his body became a keen machine, what he was conditioned for during Madman: to kill.

He halted, at his feet was the nearly totally ravaged body of a small creature. There wasn't much left of it. He waved Tavor close with his free hand.

"Never disregard carnage," he whispered to Drof, "Its the biggest way to know what your dealing with is gonna kill you. Tell me what you see."

[member="Drof'del Tavor"]

 

[Drof'del Tavor]

Drof walked with the man back to a quaint cottage in the outskirts of the outpost. There he was able to secure his gear, he made note of the soldiers that had accompanied them in the cottage.

Not like the normal guards in the outpost? Bodyguards perhaps?

Moments later they were weaving in the jungle, looking for their quarry. The exhilaration was ripe in the air as Drof maneuvered through the foliage with Ardgal. They came to a halt, upon a creature that had been mauled, badly.

"Never disregard carnage," he whispered to Drof, "Its the biggest way to know what your dealing with is gonna kill you.Tell me what you see."

"I see that a predator may be leaving a trap. I see a mauled animal but in the jungle i do not see anything, but our quarry can see us no doubt.....Out there, even though we can't see anything, its a jungle that will kill the weakest if not careful. I would say that a predator is in the area to be fair"

Out of habit, Drof readied his carbine, scanning the treetops and the foliage in the distance. Visibility was pretty awful.
He felt a bead of sweat roll down his face from anxiety, he wanted to keep moving as to not be a sitting duck

"What do you suggest Raxis? Should we move along or should we 'dig a foxhole' here?"
Drof wasn't well experienced in the jungles. Arid and farm environments sure, jungles were way too new to him.
[member="Ardgal Raxis"]

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Ardgal felt a slight tickle in the back of his head as he activated the heuristic processor chip planted in his brain alongside his visual cortex. He watched as it began to analyze the carcass, feeding him additional information.

Gash wound
location: throat.
Source: Claws
Length: 6 inches

Missing flesh
Location: Hind left leg
Source: 98% probability--bite
Surface area: 10 inches

Quarry: Maalraas (99% probability)

He moved to his knees, scanning the area around them at Tavor's question. The ambient noise had been reduced by 50%. He had a feeling that it was more than just them. There were plenty of places that they could be caught off guard here, without the aid of his chip that was scanning the area, he could spot a dozen different spots where their quarry could be hiding. Without armor, this little bugger had the upper hand on raw prowess as it were. Plus, these little things could hide themselves from plain sight using the Force.

"If they are laying a trap for us, then we know where they will be," he said rising, "at the trap."

He looked back and gave a slight smirk. It was dark, it was deadly, but you had to learn to be feral somehow, right?

He pointed to a slim trail of blood, the small droplets were almost misable in the dim lighting from the foliage that darkened the suns. Ardgal could bet they were the drops from the Maalraas' fangs after their treat, "Trap leads this way. Not too far ahead."

[member="Drof'del Tavor"]

 

[Drof'del Tavor]

Drof'del observed the man taking readings of the animal's carcass. He panned his head side to side to observe the thick jungle environment--seeing nothing of interest.

Ardgal's response was almost expected--at least it sounded exactly along the lines of what Drof was thinking. This animal was using the carcass as a decoy--a trap that has yet to be sprung.

"Indeed, that's how most predators hunt. At least back home that's how they hunted."

Drof saw Ardgal's hand point out in the distance to a droplet of blood heading one direction-our quarry has left us a trail.

"Copy that, let's see if we can find where exactly they were headed to"
Drof had his carbine at the ready aiming left, right, then up and sideways- he wasn't sure if this thing was going to jump from the ground or from the trees. Being cautious keeps one alive- for the most part.

Moments later, the two men disappeared into the jungle like ghosts of the night.
[member="Ardgal Raxis"]

 

[Keira Priest]

By all Nine Hells. Of course, Keira shouldn't have expected anything less. [member="Vilaz Munin"] was Mand'alor now, last she had heard, so it only made sense that he would arrive. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered how far her people had declined to be looking to him as any sort of final say, but she hadn't spoken out against his reign openly. Not yet, at least. He'd proven himself competent so far, and she wasn't in any position to be challenging presently. Something told her at least a part of that would be changing soon, if this was how things were going to kick off. They had never been the best of friends, but when one's friendship began with being shot, it wasn't much of one at all.

Reacting as she typically would with no regard for his standing among the vode, she drew her pistol and pressed the muzzle to the center of his chest plate, her movements fluid and smile easy. "And a bit dangerous for you to be making assumptions as well. Don't you remember anything I've told you? Appearances lie." Just as quickly as it was produced she holstered the weapon, turning to properly address him. It didn't seem he'd changed a bit since they last clashed, save that now he wasn't trying to kill her. She supposed he was owed some degree of respect given that he was the head of the entirety of their people, but for her that manifested in the fact that they weren't trying to kill each other.

"I'm assuming you didn't wander over to learn anything."

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Ardgal didn't consider himself better than this warrior they were hunting just because he was sentient. No, in a way, as they traversed the jungle, he felt a sense of inferiority. He had been crafted for war, but what they were chasing had been biologically created for nothing more than war itself. Yes, he had to be shaped to become an anti-force user being, but on the other hand, this Maarlaas they were after had been born that way, its ancestors one by one adding a small gene or instinct that made it what it was. A killer.

The thing was, people were that way too, they just had to find it.

He slowed to a halt as they reached the end of the trail. He narrowed his eyes, scanning everywhere, everything. There were no footprints, no signs of a struggle. It was too far for the Nighthunter to jump into one of the trees and climb away, and there were no signs of any other beings intercepting and carting their prey away.

"How peculiar," Ardgal muttered under his breath.

His nostrils flared as he took a sniff of the wind. The trail was fresh, they hadn't missed it by less than fifteen minutes. Sniff. It was female, with a week before she went into heat. Sniff. He could catch hints of the carnage and metallic blood on the ground, the being was close, but the overbearing smell of nearby Vingallsprunt herbs was clouding his abilities from catching a direct location. He opened his mouth to speak when a small snap sound broke the silence.

As Ardgal wheeled around to face it he raised his Ravager instinctively. The barrel was all that saved his life as it caught one of the claws of the Nighthunter. The beast knocked his weapon free, Ardgal had to take a half step back as it sprang at him again, pressing the initiative. He grabbed the feral warrior's front legs by its forepaws, just under the claws and backpedaled, locked in a grapple for his life.

[member="Drof'del Tavor"]

 

[Drof'del Tavor]

Drof'del wheeled around to face the monstrosity that had knocked the weapon from [member="Ardgal Raxis"]. It was a behemoth of a creature that he had never seen before.

Ardgal was stuck in a grapple with the beast, Drof had to act; so he brought up his carbine and peppered the beast in the torso, hoping to free Ardgal and aggro the giant long enough for Raxis to retrieve his weapon.

"If that thing lets go, ill attract the monster and you can get your weapon"

Drof noticed that the eyes of the beast shifted their gaze on Drof--He might have actually done it. A spine-chilling roar left the maw of the beast--was it attracting others? Was it going to let go?

The young Mandalorian backpedaled slowly while aiming his carbine at the creature, letting blaster shots pepper the beast. When will this thing ever die?
He knew that if the beast ran for him--it would be big trouble since Drof can't fight well close-quarters, he knew he would have to rely on his vibroknife and hopefully gut the beast.

The Maalraas was wriggling it's forepaws attempting to break free as it eyed Drof--I just kicked the hornet's nest

 

[Vilaz Munin]

The two had quite the rival which was something that never died out since the day they fought. Even as Mandalorians they still fought vigorously with one another, one of them trying to prove who was the alpha. Had they ever privately met and resolve their differences? No, they hadn't mostly because of their pride. Both despise belittling themselves and having others considering them as lesser beings. Never were they one of those things, and they would never be.

So when drew out her pistol and pressed the muzzle against his chest plate, the Mand'alor simply raised his left arm and hand, and aimed it at the Ticon's chest. The warrior knew that Keira was familiar with this. DUR-24 wrist laser, a wrist rocket, and a flamethrower. And all of this was on his left forearm. Magnificient work by the engineers of his armor; their work would surely be appreciated as Vilaz properly maintained his armor after using it from combat. "And it seems you don't learn anything when confronting me, Ticon," the Mand'alor replied back to the Force Using Mandalorian, and lowering down his own arm just as Keira did.

It was a day to mentor, and it wouldn't be spoiled by their actions.

"Heh, what would I learn from you? Maybe you should learn from me on how not to rely on the Force most of the time," Vilaz said to Keira, continuing to add more snark in their rivalry. But if the Munin were to be honest with himself, he would have loved to see Keira fight without the Force. Most of the time he had dueled her, she was always tampering with it and that wasn't healthy in his eyes.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Ria Misrani]

Amaya had been staring at the tree tops of Dxun all morning along, and each momentary glance at the moving branches came back to who she was. Who am I? Was the lingering question on Amaya's heart as she stood at the top of the tallest branch within the camp. Leaping from one branch to another she looked back across the tops of the trees and she swore she could see something. She could see the beskar'gam of many clans, their helmets, their weapons and their culture... Her culture. Amaya grabbed hold of another branch and jumped down and looked behind her. Scenes of the past enacted, the slaying of mighty beasts and as she looked forward she saw someone motioning for her.

Who am I? Again the thought plagued her and as she ran along the edge of where the camp and the jungle blurred into one another bleeding like the faded lines on a map. She knew today was the day of training and education, but Amaya had only just arrived and was looking for everything. There were other Verds here that much Artemis had told her and so it was her mission today to find them. Looking down from where she stood she saw the teachings of Mando'a and blade. A warrior culture learning to become themselves again, just as she would learn how to be whole once again. Amaya headed down from the edge of camp to grab some breakfast and then continue on her path to find the other Verds.