Location: Hovering near Ordo's Rooftop
Allies: Mando'ade
Squad: [member="Navio"] | [member="Anastasia Rade"] | [member="Neskar A'toll"]
Enemies: Dar'Jetti: [member="Ordo"] | [member="Lieutenant Kir"] | [member="Laufeia Carzi"]
Objective: Get to the Root of the Issue
Honor. The Mandalorian culture could be described with many words, many phrases of either bolstering glory or ill repute. They were uncivilized barbarians according to some, and the bravest family of warriors the cosmos had ever seen to others. For some they were a thorn in their paw, and others, the guardians of the galaxy. It was a matter of perspective that they were greeted with based on whoever turned to look upon their actions, deeds, and traditions. However, none would question their honor. They fought with it, they killed with it, they celebrated with it, and they died with it. While not explicitly stated in the six tenets it was an implied notion through every single factor that the Mandalorians such a known force. It would come then as no surprise that those without honor, without the respect of battle, that the Mandalorians would draw their ire and focus it with such sheer rage that planets would quake in their presence. Even now when the Leviathan ripped apart at the edge of Cinnagar, devouring souls as retribution to the Sith, it was another token of their resolve to answer back against what had been done to their people. And who did Azrael blame for this? His big brother - the new Dark Lord.
Repulsor engines flared on occasion as the war beast he rode upon itched to tear through their remaining forces in glorious abandon. He tethered the beast's iron will and mechanical loyalties while he still held the rail gun at full charge. While focused on the black armored form of Ordo as he stood beside his own damaged besu'liik, his HUD picked up movement from the power armored frame of what appeared to be a red guard. The armor was impressive, thick, sturdy - and ponderous. They wouldn't let him speak with the Dark Lord without attempting to throw them off course - honor-less and vile to the core! The rifle shot from his little sister was well timed as the brute raised the power cell in an attempt to fling it in their direction. Azrael answered in tandem, diverting the scope of the
BOAR.D to the side and down, firing the six shot payload. The tiny ammunition of the weapon would escape the barrel exponentially faster than any slug thrower you'd ever find, to embed each of the tightly grouped shots into the plasteel and duracrete section of the roof inches from the massive feet of Kir's power armor. Seconds later, an explosion would rock that section of the rooftop, crumbling it to debris in a spray upwards and below, to take out the support structures and leave a sizable hunk of what used to be firm footing into nothing but empty air and crumbling ruins beneath.
"Is this what you think of your Master aruetii?" Azrael roared as the new player came into the fray. Her attempt to unbalance the shot of Anastasia by tugging the power core provided time enough for the red guard's shattergun to bark out it's shot. An immediate deactivation of the repulsor engines let gravity take hold on the multi-tonne mechanical beast and drop it straight towards the ground. Above, the explosion tore apart the power core in a violent showering of anyone and everyone in a fairly complete spread, with shrapnel. Fragments of metal peppered the building, fell down, raining atop the battle droid as Azrael attempted to maneuver for less of an impact, raising his bionic arm to take the brunt of some of the bigger pieces. His armor would hold up, but he had to get back up there, and into the fray. Repulsors fired from beneath as the beast charged forward, tearing up the side of the building with it's thick metallic claws before leaping out and roaring into the sky again. In an immediate answer to the Sith interference, the twelve laser cannons spit out yellow death in Carzi's direction. A lightsaber could protect against one, maybe two if angled properly, but twelve in heated anger barreling down at you in a steady stream -- a saber would not win.
"Are you all without honor? Ordo is Mando'ade born and bred. He is the reason your world is in dissaray, and he is the reason we press on. Do you stand by a traitor?" He honestly didn't expect an answer. The engines roared hotter flying his war-droid overhead by several feet and chucking down a flash grenade to hinder their advance on him. Turning on a proverbial dime in air, Ordo's position tracked as his focus rested back on the behemoth of a man.
The plea of his
Ori'vod, the heartache in his words were heard and understood. They were both in pain, they had both lost vod, and had been affected. It would have been infinitely easier if Ordo had turned cold to the feelings and infirmities of their people. That he would have been able to cut down, he would have acted. This man was still Ordo, still burdened with the plight of his actions, and the death of his family. He certainly didn't want to see more of his kin cut down and destroyed. He'd done it however, he'd caused this, and in Azrael's eyes trying to pawn the blame on the fact that the Mandalorians acted was a cheap cop-out. To have to see his brother in this light, it was a deep and scarring wound tearing at his very soul.
"How many have spoken to you Ori'vod? How many pleaded with their lives and their souls to your deafened ears? What of them?!" Azrael answered back, the pain in his voice evident as he accused his brother, the bitter sting of agony a constant tone to his voice.
"You have gone against the express will of Mand'alor, turned your back on your own people, and created this!" Azrael motioned with his free hand to the destruction and carnage that lay waste to the once thriving city of Cinnagar.
"And every one that has stood to oppose your rule over these Dar'Jetti have met the same fate. You have killed them all Ordo..you have taken the lives of your own family and for what?! For these honor-less demagolka who have proven time and time again that their respect for life is of no consequence if it stands in the way of their progress? You have forgotten yourself, and let this Dark cloud poison your mind. Prove to me that you are still worthy of the Manda...surrender yourself and spare the lives of everyone here." Azrael drew a little closer, his ten meter bubble coming into range to envelop Ordo silently.
"I gave my word to your Riduur that I would not destroy you, if at all possible - but the Mando'ade come first. Do not make me challenge you - show me that you are not lost, and end this madness."
ne sith
