Zashyn Loross
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Post by Zashyn Loross on Oct 27, 2013 15:00:05 GMT -8
It was not but a few moments after the medical bay's most recent patient had departed that a Mandalorian in pale blue armor slipped through the large, oblong doorway, having come from another direction. One could easily infer from the short stature and slight build of the fitted armor that it was a female beneath the layers of plasteel and tech, but those were the only tell-tale signs. All other evidence of her figure was hidden behind the shapeless armor, very inch of skin concealed, as it always was and always would be for the Ubese who felt such exposure was too rude and intimate for public display. Mandalorians practically lived in their armor anyway, and so few even took note that Zashyn might have had a face behind the visored mask.
The direction of her eyeslits settled on the large, upright bacta tanks. Empty. Her military, ramrod straight posture did not change, not even a flicker of movement from her armored gloves, nor a shift in the way the overhead lights reflected off of the dark visor, but there was...some strange intensity, the tension around her almost painful to bear witness to. She almost didn't notice the approach of someone behind her. She spun sharply to face the man that had been sent to find her.
"Ver'alor-"
A blur of movement from her hands interrupted him as she communicated in her native tongue, but a confused tilt from his helmet made it clear that he didn't understand a single word of Ubese. She released an exasperated sigh, which of course between her vocoder being off and her underdeveloped vocal chords, was not audibly detectable, and therefore was a complete waste of air. She had switched off the voxbox in order to not be heard in the first place, not wanting to reveal that she was out of breath from having run halfway across the Keldabe-class destroyer to get here. There was a certain aura of disconnect and stoicism that needed to be maintained in this environment, even if it was concerning the life of the man she married.
And Zashyn was nothing if she wasn't 'by the book.'
She reached beneath the lip of her helm to switch on the speech synthesizer and tried again.
Where. Is. He.
There was nothing soft or feminine about the gravelly voice. The vocoder could only enhance the raspy strained voice of the Ubese to make it loud enough to hear. It could not create a new voice for her. She avoided speaking Mando'a for just that reason, the grandiloquent language requiring complex articulation and inflection of tone that she was physically incapable of replicating. More gutteral languages, such as Basic or Huttese, were far easier for her larynx to work around.
The warrior needed no clarification, knowing precisely whom Zashyn was referring to.
"Ver'alor Salil was released just a short moment ago and is headed for the Bridge. He sent me to find you. Captain Revs is expecting you there, as well."
My shift ended an hour ago.
"Understood, but he requested you both be there just the same, Ver'alor Loross." Well. There was no arguing that, and she was going to go wherever her husband was headed, anyway. She inclined her head to the lower-ranked soldier, then soundlessly left the medbay.
Though she moved at a relatively quick pace, Onur Salil was already on the command deck by the time she arrived, and there was no opportunity to speak aloud to him. At least he was upright, but she had no way of knowing his condition beneath his distinctive armor, and seeing the deep gash embedded in his chestplate hinted at how close she had come to never seeing him again. Her stomach twisted at the thought, a stronger reaction than was either wise or expected.
She signaled to Onur, the steadiness of her fingers belying the uneasiness she felt. Are you well?
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Oct 28, 2013 1:12:57 GMT -8
The bridge of the Keldabe-Class Battleship "Greko" operated in a muted hum of intense concentration, the silent warriors at each terminal displaying supreme focus in the face of the inactivity that besieged the Vhett fleet. Situated just off and to the rear of the Aggressor-Class Star Destroyer "Ori'gehaat'ik", the front portion of the angular ship visible out of the bridge viewports, the mighty ship waited patiently while their commanders conferred upon their next course of action. The Vhett fleet drifted just outside the gravity well of the Jungle Moon, the huge mass of the Jedi's space station in between them and the Great Temple, keeping them out of sight of the devastating Ion cannon that had wrecked havoc on one of the Keldabes lesser kin. Even now the Victory-Class Star Destroyer "Tor" was under repairs just to the rear of where the "Greko" lurked, its twins "Flak" and "Ferro" hovering protectively at its side.
Just off the bow of the Aggressor could be seen the station, drifting in majestic splendor despite having been the sight of a ferocious, though short-lived, battle for control. It was there that Corr Vhett sought to further his plans of war while Mand'alor Ashrah advanced unerringly on the Jedi Temple on the moon below.
The only sound on the bridge, aside from the background drone of active systems, came from the center of the room where the holoprojector displayed a quarter-sized image of Admiral Gathos aboard the "Ori'gehaat'ik". If there was any chatter from the various warriors scattered at the stations around the area, intent upon their duty's, it as done over their closed helmet comms. Unlike Gathos' crew, the men and women here were all attired in the distinctive Mandalorian armour, complete with the T-shaped helmets. It was an idiom of the ships captain, the only man not wearing a helm, who believed each man or woman on a battleship was a combatant and should, therefore, be dressed as such. Revs helmet was in his right hand, being used every now and then to stress a point by jabbing the piece of armour in the vacant air before him.
The Captains face distorted into a scowl, the puckered scar running down the right side of his face twisting oddly with the expression. His lip curled as he stared at the two foot tall hologram of Admiral Gathos, technically his superior in this endeavor, and his left hand waved back and forth in dismissal at the other mans words.
"The system is secure, Admiral. Even should a Jedi fleet return they won't be a match for our forces. They will hit the blockade and be destroyed before they can even come within sight of this pathetic moon."
It was impossible to actually see any reaction from Gathos but Revs could definitely detect a trace of weariness in the voice. Whether from actual fatigue or from the effort of having to relay orders to one as garrulous as Rev he couldn't say.
Don't be too sure, captain. We don't know the location of some of the Jetii ships, their Super Star destroyer in particular. With some of our fleet committed elsewhere we'd be hard-pressed to stop an incursion from a ship of that magnitude. Nevertheless, Te Aliit'or seeks to further drive our blade into the sides of the Jedi...
Revs snorted indignantly. Ossus. What a complete waste of time. He understood that Ashrah and Corr were waging a moral war on the Jedi as well as a military one, seeking to damage their will and psychologically batter them. He saw the merits in such a tactic and approved to an extent. But Ossus? A library world of scholars would prove little challenge, would hardly elevate them in the eyes of Kad the Destroyer.
He glanced over his shoulder as the turbolift doors opened and a warrior in distinctive purple armour stepped onto the bridge, before returning his attention to Gathos.
"Very well. I will make ready to be underway within the hour. Is this Varad going to find his way over here, or do I need to ring him a taxi?"
He thought he heard a sigh make its way over the comm channel from the Aggressor but no further words from Gathos emerged. The line went dead and the hologram fizzled out drawing a grin from Revs. He could almost imagine the cracks in Gathos' militar poise as the beskad up the mans arse twisted this way and that.
"Stew on that, Imperial chump..."
He muttered under his breath as he turned and looked to the newcomer to the bridge. Salil was here but where... ah. He nodded in satisfaction as a figure in blue armour appeared. He turned and headed to his ready room, gesturing for Loross and Salil to follow, but paused as a low growl of anger escaped the normally reticent bridge crew. People were standing and gesturing to the vieports, and Revs thought for a moment the Jedi fleet had somehow got past the blockade. It was then that his attention focused on the image of an approaching vessel, his eyes taking in the data beneath. The message the ship had transmitted played out over the speakers and Rev growled out a string of explicit's that would make a Hutt blush.
He shook himself out of his surprise and anger to continue on to his ready room, listening to Gathos's voice boom over the comm channel. Fair play to the old stiff, he thought with a smile as he activated the display in his room, waving the two warriors in. He knew how to lay down the law that was for sure. He turned to the display and stared hard at the Deathwatch ship, as if his eyes could burn it from existence, and waited for his guests to set themselves.
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Gathos turned away from the holoplate, muttering a few choice oaths at the insubordination, and strode back onto the bridge proper. His mood was foul and about to get worse as a comm officer brought his attention to the new arrival. A Death watch Star Destroyer here? Already there was a low murmer of anger reverberating around the bridge and a few had even stood at their stations to stare with menacing hatred at the big screen which now displayed the approaching craft in all is infamy. Aside from the deep abiding hatred most Mandalorian felt towards the idiotic cult most had not forgotten the attack on Jai'galaar. An attack that had been perpetrated by the now-Mand'alor Ashrah Intalbo, the then-leader of the Deathwatch. It was only through Corr's insistence that Ashrah had been misguided in his collusion with the hated faction of Mandalorian society thaat they followed the man now, especially since rumours of Ashrah's involvement in Cassus' death still circulated in some quarters. For a Deathwatch vessel to approach them here spoke of either supreme arrogance or extreme stupidity on the part of its commander...
Gathos thought the latter as he paced the command walkway.
"I want all guns trained on that vermin and a channel opened at once."
The Ori'gehaat'ika turned slightly from where it had been drifting idly so as to lie its main gun up with the approaching Destroyer. Weapon systems sprang to life and painted target locks on the Deathwatch ship. Likewise the other Vhett ships followed suit without being commanded to, each captain no doubt feeling the same indignant rage that ran through Gathos and his crew. With two Keldabe-Class, two Victory-Class and the Aggressor facing it the Destroyer was in for a hard time should tempers get the better of people...
The comm officer looked over and gave Gathos a grim nod to indicate a channel had been established. A sneer marred the man's face, his mustache twisting around his upper lip, as he grunted an acknowledgement and spoke.
This is Admiral Gathos of the Concordian Fleet to the commander of the Deathwatch Star Destroyer. By what insane idea do you believe yourself acceptable among us true vode is beyond me at this moment, Kry'stad shabuir. I can only hope you have either come to throw yourselves on our enemies jetii'kade or have decided to turn yourselves in for the rendering of justice.
There was no mistaking the threat and steel in his words, backed up by the awesome destructive power at his disposal. He muted the mic for a moment and glanced to the comm officer.
"Get me a line to Corr at once."
The man turned to the task as Gathos un-muted the mic and continued.
I suppose you have some lame reason as to why we should not scatter your atoms all over this system...?
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Dred Vizsla
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Post by Dred Vizsla on Oct 28, 2013 6:25:18 GMT -8
*The typical greeting for Death Watch was usually to open fire immediately, no questions asked. However,these weren't typical circumstances. The greeting from the Admiral were typical though. Something that makes Dred smile as he opens the channel to declare his intentions to the Admiral.*
::Admiral Gathos. Didn't mean to give you and your boys a scare like this.:: Dred smiled a bit. His face had a slight sociopath menace of an inhuman since his "genetic alterations." ::Despite your bravado, we aren't here to surrender ourselves to your judgments or sacrifice ourselves to hut'tuun jetiise. We are here with time sensitive intelligence to be delivered to Mand'alor himself.::
*Dred doesn't smile but returns to the menacing look of stone-cold seriousness.*
::Mand'alor requested to see this since we both have a common enemy, ner'tat. Opening fire on us would destroy the info we have on those who planned to destroy the 'baat and other places while the rest of the Mandalorians were off to war.::
*Dred leans in to the holovid.*
::If you don't believe me, why not ask the man himself? I'm sure we can lament over hostilities later.::
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Onur Salil
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Post by Onur Salil on Oct 28, 2013 14:12:11 GMT -8
A military ship for a military man: Captain Revs sure knew how he wanted things done.
That everyone aboard the command deck was in full armor was a sign of just how the naval officer wanted his day: filled with pride and confidence, the power of the Verde. It was rather intimidating in its intent, but yet somehow a display that filled Onur with a sense of belonging.
To know that the helm made them all equal.
Revs, however, didn't get much of a chance to speak after Zashyn arrived, instead waving them both into a briefing room whilst their comrades vented their bridled rage at seeing a warship of the traitorous Death Watch come into view. Onur knew enough about the cult to understand the increased agitation: Death Watch was filled to the brim with Mandalorians who hated Mandalorians. It would have been the equivalent of a Jedi and a Sith sharing a room peacefully together. The Nagai also recalled that the current Mand'alor used to be a member of the traitorous dar'manda.
Interesting. Very interesting. A useful bit of intelligence that would be filed away for later after seeing how this new development played out.
For now, his head tilted towards Zashyn, his wife. Behind the visor, his eyes caught her subtle gestures with her fingers, making him smile under the helm. She had taught him some of her native language, the hand signals the Ubese use. What part of him recognized, though, was that part of the translation included very military-heavy phrases and codes. A military language he was actually completely well-versed in. A quirk, to be sure: the similarities were too explicit to be anything more than coincidence. When Revs motioned them to follow, Onur's hand began to reply in kind with slow, hesitant motions as he tried to recall the proper words and movements to communicate properly.
I'm fine. Just a scratch.
There wasn't much time to tell her anything more, but as they fell into step with Captain Revs his gauntlet brushed just softly enough upon her own to not be noticed, but enough for her to feel that the contact was intentional. Duty before Self above all, but there were some things you could not drill out of a Mandalorian. He was glad to see her safe, and knew that the damage to his chestplate had to have been hard to bear in silence. However, Zashyn had a penchant for stowing away her feelings when their services were required. It was ... admirable, in a way. Almost made him chuckle at how they had clashed when first meeting as simple warriors in the Clans.
When Captain Revs brought up the holographic display, clearly calling for their attention, Onur rested his hands behind his back, lightly grasping his wrist. A relaxed, but attentive pose. His voxbox gave his normally soft voice a tinny, gritty tone to it, as if he was chewing through marble beneath the mask.
:: Reporting as ordered, vod. ::
He was glad that Revs wanted to see Zashyn as well. It was his supreme hope that they would be assigned together, as they normally were. Aside from their romantic connection, the Nagai and Ubese made a formidable Infiltration And Sabotage team, one that the Clans had put to use several times since their coupling.
And they hadn't let the Mando'ade down yet.
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Oct 29, 2013 14:55:00 GMT -8
The Concorian fleet maintained its posture, guns trained on the Death Watch vessel, as Gathos conferred with Corr. The Admiral didn't like it but nodded his head at the words of his Aliit'or before cutting the connection and looking out of the viewport, as if his very gaze could glean the truth from the traitorous vessel. He clasped his hands behind his back, his posture military straight, before speaking into the open comm.
A channel is being established for you to speak to Mand'alor Ashrah. I advise you make it quick and make it convincing, buy'ce. Our patience with your kind has limits.
The low murmur of angst was the same as the one Corr had gotten from the vode on board the space station, a rumbling undertone of discontent. They were asking a lot of the Concordians in this and Gathos knew they were treading a fine line here...
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On board the Greko Captain Revs shook his head in wonder at the proceedings. His ship had also turned slightly to bring the majority of its guns to bear on the Death Watch destroyer despite them making ready to get underway to a different arena. If he had his way he would have already opened fire on the Dar'manda vessel. He had lost friends in the raid by the Death watch upon the military base at Jai'galaar and recalled the ensuing retributions and atrocities visited by both sides. He cared not what happened to the Oyu'baat, cared not what happened to Mandalore even, being a firm believer that the Empire had abandoned its values when it had let a former Death Watch leader assume the helm. His own vendetta against Force users, as well as his unerring loyalty to Cassus, and now Corr, was enough for him to be here and fight for the resol'nare despite his misgivings.
He studied his two guests as these thoughts went through his head, eyes running over their armour and clan markings. There weren't many of clan Skirata among them these days and these two were something of an enigma to him. They dotted all the eyes and crossed all the tee's but something just didn't sit right with him. Perhaps the natural distrust between Vhett and Skirata, a conflict generations old, were colouring his judgment and he immediately dismissed such thought by getting down to business.
"I trust you are battle-fit, ner tat..."
He said, directing his words to Onur Salil. He didn't really seek an answer as he had already checked the medical reports and knew it to be so. The words were more of a courtesy and a way to begin the conversation, and he wasted no more time on pleasantries.
"We have been tasked with aiding the fleet attack on Ossus. Seen as you were both aboard this vessel when the orders came through I am now assigning you a command here. Salil, you will take command of Olat trat'aliit, an eight man special ops team. Zashyn will be your second. The strike force will operate under the nominal command of one Artus Varad..."
He said this with a faint sneer, naturally believing such command should be his and his alone.
"Varad will be with us shortly and we will be under way as soon as he is aboard. Any questions?"
He narrowed his eyes, clearly indicating that such questions would be a waste of his time. He was such a charmer at times.
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Zashyn Loross
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Post by Zashyn Loross on Oct 31, 2013 8:19:22 GMT -8
Just a scratch, he says.
Zashyn huffed silently, a nearly imperceptible lift of her shoulder plates that conveyed obvious doubt. But as the gentle pressure of Onur's armored glove touched against hers, she allowed the tension she had been holding for the past recent hours to at last ebb. That small trace of reassurance, Zashyn knew, was more displaying-of-affection than Mandalorians were known to give, at least while in armor. All things considered, it was a significant gesture.
The informal announcement of the Death Watch's arrival was an undesirable surprise. Just what they needed, an added complication. There was an old saying that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, but in this case, grudges ran deep. This could only add to the hostilities, and one wrong utterance could have the Mandalorians fighting this war on two fronts.
Would she and Onur be assigned to different stations in light of this news? They had been on the same team for nearly three years, complimenting one another's talents seamlessly, despite the fact that they got along about as well as a fuel barrel and a match. At least at first.
As Onur fell into a comfortable parade rest within the Captain's ready room, Zashyn mirrored his posture, respecting the Captain's rank with her full attention. Their visors reflected the pinpoint lights of nearby stars and planets from the display, shadowed by the ominous presence of the Death Watch ship. The overhead lighting was dimmer, here, than it was on the command deck, having an almost somber effect on the room's occupants. It was as though the ambiance itself was a reminder to keep voices low and conversations private, like that of a library. Or a funeral.
Zashyn, of course, couldn't raise her voice even if she had wanted to."I trust you are battle-fit, ner tat..." He said, directing his words to Onur Salil. He didn't really seek an answer as he had already checked the medical reports and knew it to be so. The words were more of a courtesy and a way to begin the conversation, and he wasted no more time on pleasantries.
"We have been tasked with aiding the fleet attack on Ossus. Seen as you were both aboard this vessel when the orders came through I am now assigning you a command here. Salil, you will take command of Olat trat'aliit, an eight man special ops team. Zashyn will be your second. The strike force will operate under the nominal command of one Artus Varad..."
He said this with a faint sneer, naturally believing such command should be his and his alone.
"Varad will be with us shortly and we will be under way as soon as he is aboard. Any questions?" The pace of her heart settled and her fingers behind her back uncurled. A small special ops team. This was very familiar ground for her, what she had been specially trained to do. Accepting this role was like donning a familiar pair of comfortable shoes. More importantly, she would be assigned under her more experienced husband's command, allowing them to remain together, to both further prove their value as a team and to play a larger part in this war. It might just be the opportunity she was looking for.
So long as the Death Watch did not disrupt that.
She lifted her hand to her helm, four-fingers held straight.
Copy that, Captain.
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Dred Vizsla
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Post by Dred Vizsla on Nov 1, 2013 8:05:48 GMT -8
The Concorian fleet maintained its posture, guns trained on the Death Watch vessel, as Gathos conferred with Corr. The Admiral didn't like it but nodded his head at the words of his Aliit'or before cutting the connection and looking out of the viewport, as if his very gaze could glean the truth from the traitorous vessel. He clasped his hands behind his back, his posture military straight, before speaking into the open comm.
A channel is being established for you to speak to Mand'alor Ashrah. I advise you make it quick and make it convincing, buy'ce. Our patience with your kind has limits.
The low murmur of angst was the same as the one Corr had gotten from the vode on board the space station, a rumbling undertone of discontent. They were asking a lot of the Concordians in this and Gathos knew they were treading a fine line here...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *The Dreadnaught trained it's guns out of habit as well. Everyone aboard knew that hostilities could erupt over the wrong word or ANY perceived insult. Dred knew people would be on edge even if they swore they weren't. They were heavily outnumbered and out-gunned. Dred wasn't afraid. His attempt to remove the Force from himself left some serious draw backs. He felt normal feelings even though he ignored them most of the time, but lately, he felt very little. Mostly it was a desire to survive with cold hard logic. Most did this already but Dred had become even more concerned with it. He knew coming up to a blockade was a serious chance to take. But he knew he had leverage. He would need more to get away in one piece.*
::No need to establish the channel. I don't want the hut'tuun Jetiise figuring out his position. Send an envoy. They will come aboard and enter unharmed but not unarmed. I will pass the intel to them and as we turn to leave, they exit the vessel after our ships are out of gun range back to yours. Patience has limits but even enemies can show respect. I give my word that they will not be fired upon before, during or after our exchange. Even if my word has little meaning. So our actions will prove it to you that we have a common enemy despite old prejudices for one another.::
*It was a risk, to make these requests to a blockade of angry hornets. It was an even bigger risk to think that they wouldn't get stung.*
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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Nov 6, 2013 13:49:32 GMT -8
The darkness inherent on board a star ship was the perfect pathway. The darkness inherent on Dred's star ship dimmed. Imperceptibly at first, gaining momentum until the only thing anyone could see would be the flickering lights of the console boards, dimly lit and fitful in their vain attempt to penetrate the absolute black that now covered everything. It was cold, cold enough for frost to form on the visors of the men manning the bridge of The Dreadnought. A light, featherweight touch drifted across Dred's buy'ce, the whispy finger trailing down the T visor, leaving a streak, a frozen brush of breath across the mans neck, the shadow seeming to hug the Death Watch leader.....A voice, disembodied yet all to close spoke through the ship.
"Not afraid. Not afraid. That is a sentiment that can get you into all kinds of trouble Mandalorian. Or are you...Dar.......Manda? Hard to tell with you walking boat anchors. I sense in you a great need Dred Vizsla. A need that will eventually lead to your death......But what a glorious death hmmm? Isn't that how you want to be remembered? The man who brought the Manda'lor the information he needs to eradicate the force and all of it's practitioners..... and perhaps find a way to redeem you and yours in the eyes of the Mandalorians, yes? I can help you know.....For a price...."
His voice was a soft as silk and far smoother. The light returned to normal and he stood in front of the Death Watch leader, Erevis face not much more than a wistful half glowing skull at this point, a soft white light emanating from beneath the fabric of his hood, the cloak itself seeming to dissipate and coalesce all in the matter of milliseconds. His glowing purple eyes bore into the soul of the man in front of him, the Whill standing a good 3 feet above the head of the Mandalorian...He smiled, tiny fangs glinting with the same eerie light his 'face' gave off....
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Dred Vizsla
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Post by Dred Vizsla on Nov 8, 2013 8:09:30 GMT -8
The darkness inherent on board a star ship was the perfect pathway. The darkness inherent on Dred's star ship dimmed. Imperceptibly at first, gaining momentum until the only thing anyone could see would be the flickering lights of the console boards, dimly lit and fitful in their vain attempt to penetrate the absolute black that now covered everything. It was cold, cold enough for frost to form on the visors of the men manning the bridge of The Dreadnought. A light, featherweight touch drifted across Dred's buy'ce, the whispy finger trailing down the T visor, leaving a streak, a frozen brush of breath across the mans neck, the shadow seeming to hug the Death Watch leader.....A voice, disembodied yet all to close spoke through the ship. "Not afraid. Not afraid. That is a sentiment that can get you into all kinds of trouble Mandalorian. Or are you...Dar.......Manda? Hard to tell with you walking boat anchors. I sense in you a great need Dred Vizsla. A need that will eventually lead to your death......But what a glorious death hmmm? Isn't that how you want to be remembered? The man who brought the Manda'lor the information he needs to eradicate the force and all of it's practitioners..... and perhaps find a way to redeem you and yours in the eyes of the Mandalorians, yes? I can help you know.....For a price...." His voice was a soft as silk and far smoother. The light returned to normal and he stood in front of the Death Watch leader, Erevis face not much more than a wistful half glowing skull at this point, a soft white light emanating from beneath the fabric of his hood, the cloak itself seeming to dissipate and coalesce all in the matter of milliseconds. His glowing purple eyes bore into the soul of the man in front of him, the Whill standing a good 3 feet above the head of the Mandalorian...He smiled, tiny fangs glinting with the same eerie light his 'face' gave off.... *What in the name of the War God was going on here? It got cold. Real cold all the sudden. Freezing. The lights flickered, even the system in his buy'ce flickered. There was an uneasiness on the bridge. Even Dred could feel it. And he felt very little these days. Drawback of the "alterations". But this. This was unnerving even to him. It goes double when the freezing cold hits the back of his neck. Goosebumps forms as Dred stands still. Whatever this "thing" was it wasn't your everyday run in with something normal. A disembodied voice speaks, as if it wasn't unnatural enough. It speaks about choices. Dred feared no living sentient being but this creature, person or whatever didn't even measure on any of his systems. Even life support didn't register anything. Dred swallows hard. Was it because he was unnerved or because it was freezing on the ship? Both it would seem. Dred is a battle hardened Mando and he shakes it off. The first time he's had to do that in a very long time.*
"Unafraid of most things natural and living. Fearlessness isn't the measure of a good leader. It's inspiring fearlessness. Although I can't say the same about seeing you. Whatever you are. You came here for a reason and I don't think it's to tell me the future. A man often confronts his destiny on the path he takes to avoid it. So what is it you truly wish to offer me?....for a price?"
*Dred meets the floating skull's gaze looking upward. Dred rarely had to do that. The glinting of the fangs made him even more uneasy as the light and systems return to normal. This thing had an air of malicious intent about it. Whatever Dred asked for, he got the feeling the price he would pay would be a costly one.*
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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Nov 8, 2013 10:11:39 GMT -8
The Dark Whill flipped his right hand in a motion that said 'yes yes, that is of zero importance to me' and spun about to his left, flowing around the bridge, looking over the shoulders of those stationed there. He glided to the viewport and had a look over Yavin, the war going on in Space, and down into the Jungles themselves, to all the little....ants....scurrying about, vainly attempting to justify their existence by removing something that existed in all things....Dark or Light.
"Yes. I have heard it all before. Fearlessness before the storm, stoic outlook and all that. Typically Mandalorian, even if you consider yourselves outside the normal society. If only Corr could look past his hatred of the Death Watch...But your Manda'lor had a lot to do with that, didn't he?"
He spun back around, facing Dred, his cloak flying about him in some dramatic fashion...What good was a cloak without it? He looked at the man, his eyes squinting.....
"You and the Manda'lor share a unique physiology......I can sense it....His is slightly different than yours though, isn't it? What is it you truly wish for Dred? What is the one thing in this universe you CRAVE above all else?"
He moved closer, very slowly floating across the floor, digging into the man with his eyes
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Nov 9, 2013 18:08:50 GMT -8
The Concordin ships moved slightly to orient back towards the moon. Keeping some of their guns trained on the Deathwatch ship the focused their attention on the jungle below. Maneuvering carefully so the the mass of the station still protected them from the ion cannon of the Praxuem they lined up a shot as close to the edge of the shields northern edge as they could and fired.
As Corr's ship left the station, accompanied by several other vessels, scarlet bolt of devastating energy slammed into the wet jungles on the moon, igniting them with their ferocious heat. As the Ori moved to scoop up Corr and the others a channel crackled to life for Dred to speak to Ashrah. That was all the man would be getting in the way of help from them, and most of the Concordian were of a mind to leave this system should the Deathwatch remain to contaminate it...
The Tra'vod disappeared into the Ori...
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Dred Vizsla
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Post by Dred Vizsla on Nov 10, 2013 11:33:14 GMT -8
The Dark Whill flipped his right hand in a motion that said 'yes yes, that is of zero importance to me' and spun about to his left, flowing around the bridge, looking over the shoulders of those stationed there. He glided to the viewport and had a look over Yavin, the war going on in Space, and down into the Jungles themselves, to all the little....ants....scurrying about, vainly attempting to justify their existence by removing something that existed in all things....Dark or Light. "Yes. I have heard it all before. Fearlessness before the storm, stoic outlook and all that. Typically Mandalorian, even if you consider yourselves outside the normal society. If only Corr could look past his hatred of the Death Watch...But your Manda'lor had a lot to do with that, didn't he?" He spun back around, facing Dred, his cloak flying about him in some dramatic fashion...What good was a cloak without it? He looked at the man, his eyes squinting..... "You and the Manda'lor share a unique physiology......I can sense it....His is slightly different than yours though, isn't it? What is it you truly wish for Dred? What is the one thing in this universe you CRAVE above all else?" He moved closer, very slowly floating across the floor, digging into the man with his eyes *This, creature, element or apparition knew a lot. This made it even more unnerving. Dred doesn't give anything away, but he knew IT knew. Whatever IT was. It's knowledge was impressive.*
"I'm sure you have heard it all before. Everyone hates Death Watch. With good reason. Were war Criminals and we aren't ashamed of that social Stigma. Clan Vhett and Clan Vizsla have no love for each other and would soon set it each other on fire than look at one another. I heard rumors and little else about the former aliit'alor of clan Vhett being killed by the current Mand'alor. But lets face it, Ashrah Intalbo had Kry'tsad sympathies. There is no Kry'tsad without a Vizsla as Overlord. But we're arguing semantics now at this point."
*Dred puts in the intel to send to Ashrah directly. It states that a plan to blow up the Oya'baat was to be executed wearing Death Watch armor to separate Mandalorian forces by creating even more friction between the two defunct groups and destroying their place of spiritual rest. This was to be executed by House Demici from Serenno. The order itself originated in the colonies. There is a reference to tandem operations but that part is still encrypted. Only half the message remains encrypted.*
"What I have is the ability to strongly resist the Force and inhuman strength. What I want is the agility and speed to match the strength I have. To better inspire fearlessness amongst my brothers."
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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Nov 13, 2013 7:47:35 GMT -8
He was suddenly in front of Dred, towering over the already tall Mandalorian, his cloak almost gently enveloping the two of them, the absolute cold of his being permeating Dred. The dark purple of his eyes flared brightly, encompassing all of the other mans vision.....
"Do you accept the gift I give to you? Do you accept the consequences that come with a gift such as this? Do you accept Speed and Agility to match your strength?"
There was a slight twinkle in Erevis' eye as he spoke, waiting for Dred to answer.......
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Dred Vizsla
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Post by Dred Vizsla on Nov 13, 2013 20:16:43 GMT -8
He was suddenly in front of Dred, towering over the already tall Mandalorian, his cloak almost gently enveloping the two of them, the absolute cold of his being permeating Dred. The dark purple of his eyes flared brightly, encompassing all of the other mans vision..... "Do you accept the gift I give to you? Do you accept the consequences that come with a gift such as this? Do you accept Speed and Agility to match your strength?" There was a slight twinkle in Erevis' eye as he spoke, waiting for Dred to answer....... *This was it. There was NO turning back now. Dred made his decision before the Dark creature finished it's sentence. It was something he would regret to be sure. But if the creature was true to it's word. So would the benefit.*
"Yes. I accept consequences. And the reward."
*He was either a fool or a genius. The only difference would be the measure of success. And only time will tell with that.*
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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Nov 14, 2013 8:05:47 GMT -8
Fool. Mortals. So easy to blind with shiny promises of power. Palpatine had it. Vader had it. The darker the soul, the easier the bribe. Throw a flashy gew gaw in the face of those who crave absolute domination...well. He would see.
"So quick to accept without asking what the consequences will be...They will be 2 fold."
Dred's entire world would go dark...Then be filled with utter, debilitating pain. It would permeate his entire being as his synapses strengthened, his tendons and muscles adjusted, even his bones found a way to hurt.....As his body became faster and more agile. But as all things in the Force, there is Balance, and even the Dark Whill cannot skip around those 'rules'....Or maybe Erevis is just a giant asshole....No one will ever know. But as Dred was now filled with the speed to match his strength, His lungs and heart weakened. He would find it excruciating to breathe when exerting himself for longer than 2 minutes, but wouldn't know about that IC until he actually tried to do something strenuous. So yes. He was faster. He was more Agile. But he would not be able to keep that level of movement for very long or risk death. A balance.
Erevis pinched part of the mans soul as he finished, holding on to it for now.......As the light returned to Dreds world, twin purple orbs were all that he could see of the Dark Whill.....
"I will have need of you. One day. And you will come."
And with that, he was gone, leaving nothing more than pain and a slight chill in the air
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Dred Vizsla
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Post by Dred Vizsla on Nov 17, 2013 12:13:47 GMT -8
Fool. Mortals. So easy to blind with shiny promises of power. Palpatine had it. Vader had it. The darker the soul, the easier the bribe. Throw a flashy gew gaw in the face of those who crave absolute domination...well. He would see. "So quick to accept without asking what the consequences will be...They will be 2 fold." Dred's entire world would go dark...Then be filled with utter, debilitating pain. It would permeate his entire being as his synapses strengthened, his tendons and muscles adjusted, even his bones found a way to hurt.....As his body became faster and more agile. But as all things in the Force, there is Balance, and even the Dark Whill cannot skip around those 'rules'....Or maybe Erevis is just a giant asshole....No one will ever know. But as Dred was now filled with the speed to match his strength, His lungs and heart weakened. He would find it excruciating to breathe when exerting himself for longer than 2 minutes, but wouldn't know about that IC until he actually tried to do something strenuous. So yes. He was faster. He was more Agile. But he would not be able to keep that level of movement for very long or risk death. A balance.
Erevis pinched part of the mans soul as he finished, holding on to it for now.......As the light returned to Dreds world, twin purple orbs were all that he could see of the Dark Whill..... "I will have need of you. One day. And you will come." And with that, he was gone, leaving nothing more than pain and a slight chill in the air *With everything finished, and being in great pain, Dred gives the signal to leave the blockade. He could tell that any aggressive moves made by the Dreadnaught would be fired upon, so he tells the helmsman to exit the blockade area slowly. For now he would have to figure out what the price he paid for his new improvements. Before they ended up coming to bite him in the shebs. Once out of the guns range and gravity well, Dred and his Dreadnaught jump into hyperspace. *
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Dr. Levi Rose
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Post by Dr. Levi Rose on Nov 30, 2013 14:25:07 GMT -8
The Carrack cruiser was able to navigate the near constant dogfighting in the skies over Yavin with little damage. Fortunately, this ship's model was outfitted to defend against starfighters, so in a few cases the Refuge was able to take a few parting shots against the Mandalorian pursuers. For whatever reason, the Mandos seemed to have determined they'd already won here and aside from a running battle with the remaining Republic forces, they were focusing their efforts elsewhere, maybe redeploying somewhere else in the galaxy.
Levi left his now crippled Jedi warrior sedated and cauterized in the ship's med-bay as he marched up the main corridor to the bridge. The ship's droid crew was already hard at work cleaning the blood and waste that painted the floors courtesy of their current crew.
Goddess help me, there's maybe a dozen of us on this ship who can actually fly it and not bleed to death in the process. If we pull this off...
The main doors opened, revealing a tense and quiet calm amongst the crew as they stared out into the void of space.
Yavin Station was a wreck. The Jedi and Republic fleet was nowhere to be seen. Only a rear-guard of Mandalorian ships seemed to remain. Enough to pick up the stragglers on the planet's surface or occupy the temple or whatever the hells they planned to do.
Certainly enough capital ships to blow them out of space in a matter of minutes.
"Where are we going," Levi whispered- Force knew these crazies had brought every weapon they had to the battlefield. They might very well be sweeping for audio signatures to find targets.
"Core worlds," Arianna said, her hands moving the helm of the ship by degrees away from orbit.
"That's it? Core worlds?"
"Any place in particular you wanted to see? I'm still open to suggestions."
Kriff it. "These are Jedi people. Jedi soldiers and Jedi padawans and Jedi Jedi. We'll bring them to the head Jedi and let them decide."
"You want to dump them at the feet of the Jedi Council?"
"They'll have the resources to deal with them. As far as I'm concerned, Coruscant is the only safe port of call."
Arianna didn't answer verbally, but he did notice her hands shifting the helm of the vessel, aligning them coreward. Within minutes, the hyperdrive of the vessel was humming and ready, firing the flying coffin that was the Refuge out into the Galactic core.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Feb 3, 2014 21:32:50 GMT -8
When the shuttle dropped from warp into real space within the Yavin system, I had in fact spent the last 8 hours of the 96 hour flight in the captain's suite. My activity? The simplest of all...sleeping. …ok so I barely slept a wink during my time back in the suite. I was too busy trying to trace out a data location of a shadow.
:: Diamonte Tuhlute
This is -redacted- of -redacted- with a mission for you. I realize you have yet to fully trust the council, and while I hope you can change your mind, I present you with a mission to find your way back to the force.
Yavin IV
As you well know, the start of the mandalorian holy war was on Yavin. history will record that the Mandalorians won the battle outright through a lightning war tactic on the planet. however, after the battle the base went out of operations. we would like you to investigate if there is anyone left on Yavin. acceptance is your choice .::
That was the end of the transmission. the delivery, while audio based, had no traceable features that could name it to any one person. personally I suspected someone on the jedi council of sending me on this mission, however I did not rule out that Silas had been distributing SN chips to some of his contacts and this was some form of goose chase/busy work… either way I believe the circumstance to be legitimate
however, (coming back to where you found me) I was deep into a sleep cycle when the comm blared an alarm
::Diamonte Tuhlute to the helm, Tuhlute to the helm::
i opened my right eye rolling onto my left arm to glare at the disruption. a bulky Tiki head shaped comm device that Pixar had rigged up since I was away from the ship on Bakura. the eyes (which changed color with urgency) where shaded blue - no danger, immediate action required. as the alarm blared by flashing a vocal light that seemed to blink in step with cadence of the voice, I tapped everything from the symbol on the forehead to the finger hole at the jawline. when I finally figured out how to shut off receive mode and activate the mic, I spoke in a dangerously calm and lisp-y voice
“Pixar, I thwear to Athhla. if you weren’t ethential to allowing me to thpend time in hyperthpathe without remaining at the helm, you would be thcrap by now.”
… I hate when I pick up the com without removing my night guard first.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
it took me about 20 mins to change from the ‘pajamas’ I was wearing into a respectable set of robes. I fore-went the robe, since after my recent journeys, the robes began to take the form of a sleeved Jin-baori.
Arriving at the helm I gaped in awe at the carnage that lay before me. granted were weren’t close enough to see anything with my naked eye, but long range scanner detected the wreckage of several capital ships, as well as a weird signal coming from the station. later reflection would reveal that while enough of the station was structurally safe… many of the auxiliary facets of the stations were amongst the wreckage. Summoning the courage to speak without the emotion I might have induced?
“What seems to be the problem?”
::I sent a com message 20 minutes ago, and there was no response yet.::
“That shouldn’t be surprising… the station is known for having lax reaction times” I take a look on the scanner to see the debris the seemed to be remnants of the station. ”however I will attach a program that should tell us if the station is still occupied”
I chose my words carefully trying to hide my hope that the station might still be in a salvageable piece. first task was the temple. for the time being I constructed a fairly simple “ping” code that would alert me if the message was received. 5 mins later the ping registered and I knew, the station probably didn’t have a lot of power remaining. a smile crept to my lips
“there is still power.”
I ran a program and soon a HUD appeared on my screen to help guide me in to the temple… it was part of the “Ether-tech” that Mike and I developed for the jedi holonet. the program gave me navigation support long enough for me to guide my shuttle into the hangar of the temple.
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Ander Tagira
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Post by Ander Tagira on Feb 4, 2014 22:37:04 GMT -8
GALSAF ARRIVAL TO YAVIN SYSTEM From the blue-hued tunnels of hyperspace, a single grey and maroon colored Imperial-type Star Destroyer dropped into realspace just outside Yavin IV's gravity well. The massive vessel remained silent for some time while its crews brought it into a synchronous orbit around Yavin IV, nearby the orbiting Yavin Station. For nearly an hour, the Star Destroyer hung in silence. On board, the commandos within were finalizing preparations to send landing parties onto the planet's surface. Ander Tagira was amongst them, helping toss gear backs into open-top of a MAT-OT. His goal was to establish exactly what had happened on Yavin IV during the Mandalorian invasion, and root out any answers as to the fate of the Jedi Praxeum's former inhabitants. Ander had spent enough time with Alexis Karidian, who claimed to be the only surviving member of the former Yavin Academy, to glean bits of information about the Mandalorian invasion that had taken place there. From all the reports he'd read, the initial battle had been rather short, ending with the Jedi Peacekeeping Taskforce consolidating on the surface of the moon and throughout parts of Yavin Station. A siege of the Grand Temple had followed, though Ander had no data on how the conflict had ended. All parties involved on the Yavin side of the conflict seemed to have disappeared.Ander finished helping load the gear into the MAT-OT, then grabbed his rifle and clipped it to his shoulder. Standing around him were commandos from 2nd Battalion, all ready to load up into their respective transports and head down to the surface of the planet. 1st Battalion was deploying onto Yavin Station to root out survivors of any kind as well as to patch into the security systems and pull any data relevant to the events that had taken place during the conflict."Alright, listen up, Second Bat." Ander called, earning the attention of the soldiers around him. "We're heading down to the planet here in a few. We'll be dropped off right outside the Grand Temple. First Platoon will continue on to the Blueleaf Cluster Temple, Second will be heading to the Woolamander Temple. Third and Fourth are with me, to scout out the Grand Temple itself. After an initial recce of the area, we'll be setting up a temporary operations base. MAT-TE's will be staying up here in the Basterd's Hand until we've got our recce done. Each platoon's MAT-TE will station outside their respective temple location." Ander looked about, waiting to hear any questions the commandos might have.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Feb 5, 2014 16:48:41 GMT -8
*Kaytra stood near the front of the crowd listening to what Ander Tagira said. She had opted out of her flight gear, choosing to remain with the ground team for this mission. Instead she wore lightweight armor attached to the bare metal of her prosthetics, tribal carvings had been etched into the armor and painted black and dark green. Her chest plate had been reinforced and carved in the same manner. A dark brown shemagh scarf was attached to the inside neck of the breastplate. Her M7A1 carbine hanging loosely from her shoulder. She found it strange that the Jedi would just leave the planet, let alone just abandon their temple. Her prosthetic eyes scanned the group around her before turning back to Ander Tagira. Kaytra stepped forward slightly to make her voice easier to hear.*
"Are there any reports of possible hostiles or any survivors near the temple? Or are we looking at a dead city?" *She suddenly had second thoughts about using the term 'dead city' shortly after saying. Then again she had heard it multiple times from both her father and spacers describing abandoned towns across the outer rim.*
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