Bralex Ordo
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Post by Bralex Ordo on Oct 28, 2013 7:13:49 GMT -8
Bralex didn't bother acknowledging the vod speaking to him. He had already had enough of the religious fanatics. Strategy be damned, they were going to do what they thought Kad wanted, regardless of the consequences. No, Bralex wasn't like them. He followed Kad, but also understood the intricacies and finesse it took to successfully command a war. The Mand'alor knew them also, and Bralex was satisfied with that. Bralex just continued to stand stoically, waiting for his orders.
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Artus Varad
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Post by Artus Varad on Oct 28, 2013 7:27:38 GMT -8
Artus shook his head. This was ridiculous. Time wasting, bickering among themselves, and toying with the hostages, with not even so much as a question that could be of any kind of tactical advantage. He looked at each of the men in turn, then walked to Corr Vhett for a brief and quiet word.
"Bic nu'cuy ner taap bah rejorhaa'ir gar tion bah vaabir kebise, nu nasre'ir ol'averde gar taylir. A me'vurel..."
{{It isn't my place to tell you how to do things, nor judge the company you keep. But whatever...}}
He gestured around them, indicating the mishmash of Mandalorians. Bralex, Darian, Trull. And perhaps, though if so, not outright stated, Corr too.
"...ibic cuy? Ogir cuy nayc ijaat o'r ibic nari. Jurkadi cuy an jat, verburi at eyn urmankal balyc jat, a nu'mirdalyc go'naasi ibic'e mirci'te bal ibic ca'nara cuy or'dinyc."
{{...-this- is? There is no honour in this behaviour. Intimidation is all good, loyalty to a belief also good, but stupidly wasting these prisoners and this time is foolish.}}
His visor turned to Corr's impressive helm. Despite the harsh derision his words seemed to mean, they were spoken with a dry, matter of fact quality, as if stating something clearly apparent for all to see.
"Ni ran cuyir vaabi iba'Mandalorian entey cuyir vaabi. Sur'ar gar verde, al'verde Vhett. Gar lise urmankalar te jetiise ganar ru'sur'ar val."
{{I will be doing what a Mandalorian should be doing. Focus your soldiers, Commander Fett. You can bet the Jedi have focused theirs.}}
With that, he turned, headed from the command centre. On his way out he stopped by the station that Alena sat at, just long enough to look down at it. His helmet did a quick capture of all the data on the displays, ensuring he could patch in on the communications later, to get in touch with, at least, the Station once more. That done, he headed out. For Ossus.
And for glory.
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Post by Eliana Shan on Oct 28, 2013 16:28:50 GMT -8
There had been a sudden intake of breath when Darian had grabbed her, an intake of pain and apprehension. She had sliced into the systems for them, and Trull startling her had been bad enough, but to be physically torn away from her work? That was an unholy offense to her. She wanted to whirl on him, to tear into him verbally, but she held her tongue; she couldn't afford to piss these people off, let alone this particular priest. His sanity seemed borderline to her already.
And now he was demanding that she kill one of the prisoners. She started to search her mind for something to say in protest: she had killed before -- seven years fending for herself on Nar Shaddaa had necessitated that she end more than one life -- but only in combat. Never in cold blood. She knew the consequences of taking a life, and she cursed her Force Sensitivity.. But then Corr spoke up.
Kaych narir bah gotal'ur lenedat ti te Jetii...{She is to make contact with the Jedi...Kaysh nayc'liser vaabir ibac ti gar gaani bat kaych, ner tat.{She cannot do that with your hands upon her, my friend.}
And at that, Darian let go of her, letting her get back to what she had been doing. She would have let it all slide, but then she heard the telltale click of a gun being cocked right next to her ear.
She couldn't contain herself anymore. She rolled her eyes, turning her head to regard him out of the corner of her eye, even as she returned to the computer terminal.
"I get the point, you know. You're trying to impress me with firepower, and it just won't work." She was speaking against her better judgment; maybe it was the ne'tra gal left over in her system, or maybe it was simple annoyance at being interrupted from her work. "You might as well whip your dick out and twirl it around, and trust me, I still won't be impressed. Not my style."
She threw him a wink, aware of the fact that she may have just signed her own death warrant, and resynched her visor and virtual keyboard with the terminal.
"Now then, I'll ask again: Anyone wanna make a call to the Jedi Praxeum? 'Cause I can have them on the line like.. now."
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Bralex Ordo
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Post by Bralex Ordo on Oct 29, 2013 2:01:13 GMT -8
Bralex laughed to himself inside his buy'ce at the insane ramblings of this fanatic. He obviously had never fought, nor understood the Jedi. Bralex had seen them sacrifice themselves for others, but he also knew they thought of the greater good. They wouldn't sacrifice themselves if it didn't benefit the greater good. They were like the Mando'ade in that regard. They could deal with acceptable losses. No, this man thought they were afraid, when in actuality they were far from it. This man would most likely die at their hand for his underestimation of the Jedi. The fanatic believed himself, invincible, untouchable. He would learn quite the opposite was true, probably with his life.
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Oct 29, 2013 14:19:21 GMT -8
Corr's horned helm dipped up and down twice in a sage nod at the Rodians words, admiring the defiance in the beings retort despite the obvious fear saturating the prisoners. He could smell its fetid stink even through the air scrubbers of his helmet, a putrid undertone of rank desperation. Ignoring the immature bickering going on behind him he continued to stand with stoic resolution, his head turning this way and that with agonising slowness, right fist clenching and unclenching. Artus' words to him were received without reaction, his thoughts his own and perhaps beyond what the others were capable of understanding, his eyes firmly fixed on a longer game than what was transpiring here. There was more to this than the Yavin system. The Jedi would unite and face them, and with them perhaps more. Corr fully intended to have as many cards to play as he could in that eventuality. Pure Sabaac wouldn't be enough. He intended to hold and Idiots Array and cover every base possible before raising the stakes and to do that he must fight a war on more levels than just a military one...
His head turned to watch Artus walk away, heading to his rendezvous with the Keldabe-Class Battleship, Greko, and muttered a brief benediction as Darian once again remonstrated with the girl. He wished for a moment that he could somehow dismiss the priest, send him along with Artus before Corr was forced to put a stop to the mans zeal. While Corr didn't trust the woman he kept his opinion and distaste under wraps, willing to use her for whatever skills she possessed, Darian wore his mistrust like an open wound. The big warrior scowled at Darians words, his visor twisted with the expression. If she thought she would be killed no matter what she did then why would she bother helping them at all. No. He regretted placing her in Darians care and now shamelessly reversed his decision like a boss.
Meh gar nayc'liser taylir gar lalat bal duumir at borarir ret gar liser hokaanir bic dayn...
{If you aren't able to hold your tongue and let her work then perhaps you should cut it out...}
His gaze fell upon Darian as he turned, the flash of his visor burning with the holy light of the righteous. He stepped closer hi head turning towards Alena, his visor attempting to twist into a reassuring smile but forming a hellish visage of salacious horror.
Slanar rud gar borarir, adi'ka. Ne vaabir chabaar kaysh
{Go about your business, kid. Don't mind him}
He realised that his reassurance may fall short given Darians foolishly stated intent but he hoped it would render her compliant for a while longer. His conduct so far, while perhaps odd and somewhat frightening, wouldn't have left any doubts as to his honour, or any future honourable conduct. He wasn't very nice but perhaps wasn't a monster? It sounded a bit of a stretch even in his mind and, a he stared at Darian once again, lamented the possible loss of such an asset. Then again... She had already established comms had she not...?
He was about to speak when his comm toned inside his helmet, an alert tone from the fleet. It took him only a moment to listen first to the comm officer then to Admiral Gathos. After a pause he decided to transmit the call for all to hear, [erhaps a mistake but meh. That's how Corr rolled.
Ad'ika... He said, addressing Alena. Tenn briik bah te Ori...
{Kid... open a channel to the Ori...}
Soon the voice of Admiral Gathos, commander of the Concordian Fleet, could be heard coming out of the control rooms speakers. After a brief description of the situation, a description that drew murmered growls and snarls of anger from the Mandalorians gathered on the bridge, he patched through the message from this Dred Visla, complete with hologram image.
The mutters of anger and indignation were louder this time, the hatred for the Death Watch running deep. Still, each man and woman had to ask as to the validity of the claim. Could they risk ignoring it? Was the Oyu'baat, and therefore Mandalore, really under threat. Corr thought it likely and wondered whether to send additional forces there... Later perhaps. For now...
He glanced at Alena.
Tenn briik bah te Ashrah daab ogir bal to bic bah ibac aruetyc slanar
Open a channel to Ashrah below and link it to that traitorous fuck}
He clicked his own channel open to Gathos.
Sur'ulur te utyc a ba'slanar soluspar jii, ner tat. Nariise kaysh adol bah Ashrah jii
(Monitor the scum but leave them alone for now, my friend. Putting him through to Ashrah now}
He looked to Alena grimly, ignoring the stunned silence that had fallen over most of the Mando's in the control room. He knew what they were all thinking. Even in light of such information they would rather the Oyu'baat burn than liaise with the Death Watch. He knew what they were thinking but ignored them. This was bigger than their feud with their estranged brothers.
Tion'tur ibac aon ni vercopa jorhaa'ir bah te Jetii
{Once that is done I wish to speak to the Jedi...}
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Darian Beviin
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Post by Darian Beviin on Oct 29, 2013 16:01:34 GMT -8
Darian smirked and turned from the gathering, finally, after being cut loose from the babysitting detail. "Finally," he muttered, walking toward the exit of the room. Certainly, there was some allure to what Corr might be planning, but there was little going on in this room. While there was most definitely a reason behind the Vhett man's plotting, the Priest was getting tired of being given menial tasks like watchdogging. Not that he couldn't perform them, just that his skills were better put to use combatively.
Corr probably knew that. But he had the pragmatic former king of the mountain with Jedi dick in his mouth to make up for losing one man. "Trull, help Vhett with whatever he needs. If that entails holding the woman's hand while she plays with her computers, well, I'm sure he's got some reason for it." Looking toward the warleader with a quiet nod, Darian addressed Corr. "I'll be on my way. Ordo here has far more patience than I do, so you'll find him more useful for your plans. Whatever they are. I have pressing duties to attend."
He moved from the room without looking back, releasing Gorehound from it's place at his hip. The tomahawk dug into the wall as he turned the corner, sparks and a metal scream accompanying the impact. The nails-on-chalkboard screeching that followed echoed through the hallway even once the Priest was out of sight, and if anyone was paying attention to the Priest's expression, they would have found no amusement in it.
He was going looking for Jedi to kill.
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Bralex Ordo
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Post by Bralex Ordo on Oct 29, 2013 18:11:52 GMT -8
Bralex shook his head is disappointed amazement and disdain. He only spoke when the fanatic had left.
Utreekov. Te Jetii ven epa kaysh kar'ta.
{{Fool. The Jedi will eat his heart.}}
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Post by Eliana Shan on Nov 1, 2013 16:51:56 GMT -8
Darian was being sent away, and for that Alena was grateful. She had once thought the man intelligent, and though she could still read the spark of brainpower in him, she realized that was overpowered by his bloodlust.
Her opinion on Corr, however, was ever-changing. She could read his expression in his visor; she had programmed artificial life-forms to be able convey their emotions with an unchanging face, so it was no surprise she could read it in turn. He had sent her tormentor away, and as much as she had resisted the term "ad'ika" at the start of her captivity, it was beginning to grow on her.
More important to her than all of that, though, Corr was giving her tasks. Things to do. Things to keep her busy. And she loved a good multi-tasking.
"Sir, yes sir."
She smiled, due in no small part to the fact that the brusque man was gone, and her fingers set about in a flurry of motion.
"Channel to the Ori.. Done."
Another voice filled the comms, then; she had no idea who the "traitorous fuck" was, but the general emotional concensus seemed to be one of anger or disgruntledness, so she adopted a similar expression. She waited while he spoke, and while Corr dictated her next action.
"Link to Ashrah?..." She had patched into the comm signal between Corr and Ashrah before, while she had been onboard the Ori'gehaat'ik, so that particular comm channel was saved in her visor. "..Done as well."
Perhaps she had opened that a little too quickly, betraying the fact that she already knew how to reach Ashrah. If she had, she didn't much care. She was focused on her goals, and any means she had to use to get them done as quickly and efficiently as possible, she would do so.
"......and..."
She smiled up at Corr, adopting a devious glint in her eye.
"Link to the Jedi Praxeum is open. Go ahead."
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Trull Ordo
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Post by Trull Ordo on Nov 5, 2013 13:39:24 GMT -8
Bralex shook his head is disappointed amazement and disdain. He only spoke when the fanatic had left.Utreekov. Te Jetii ven epa kaysh kar'ta. {{Fool. The Jedi will eat his heart.}} "They're more civilized than that," Trull muttered. "If anybody's eating hearts, I'd wager it would be the High Priest." The Priest sat down on the floor next to Alena and leaned against the nearest upright surface, keeping his weapons close at hand. He hated this waiting. Trull had never been so bloodthirsty as Darian, but even he was getting eager for the coming battle... assuming there would even be a battle. But he would wait... and wait... and wait, as long as he had to. |
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Nov 5, 2013 18:35:52 GMT -8
Corr turned slowly and moved over to the station at which Alena worked. His pace was measured, a steady clump of footfalls across the ravaged deck, everything at his pace and no others. The silence over the now open comm channels was deafening as it waited his linguistic might. Looming over the slight form of Alena, the prisoners now ignored, he selected the appropriate channel, his voice uttering quietly in Mando'a to Ashrah for below on the jungle moon. The conversation was brief, to the point, and somewhat churlish from Corr's side. He was already fed up of this clown and was already intent upon turning his mind to the situation at hand. Namely the Jedi below...
This part of my narrative is purposely vague if people are wondering. There had been enough stall with this part of the story already and things must move forward at this point. Ashrah and Corr's conversation and the results of which can be seen and followed up on other thread so little more is needed to be said here. Thank you...
Corr's attention turned, with devastating intent and concentration, to the open comlink channel to the Praxeum far far below. He stared at the comm station, almost as if he could peer over the wavelengths and actually "see" the Jedi cowering in their precious temple, wrapped up in their mysticism and apathy.
Attention Jedi Temple...
His voice was diffident, almost cloying in its introspective tone and reserved connotation of the opening word. He stood straight, hands joining behind his back as his gaze drifted from the console to stare out of the viewports at the front of the bridge. The Ori floated in sight, reaffirming his resolves with its reassuring presence.
This is aliit'or Corr Vhett of the Concordian forces in orbit around your world. I bring greetings and glad tidings. No longer must you wallow and stagnate in the incestuous pit of apathetic misery in which you live your pathetic lives. You can be heroes to those that look to you for saviors. Benevolent parents to those that seek guidance. You can fulfill your goal of giving your lives for those you claim to serve...
His voice rose slightly, dramatically, rolling with thunder as he laid down the law to those on the other end of the line. Like a boss of course.
Your fleet is crushed. Your world is isolated. Your forces outnumbered. We move towards you with a fury and vengeance unmatched even by your enemies, the Sith. There is only one outcome. I offer you this one chance to spare the people who serve you, look up to you for salvation, follow you blindly in your endeavors...
He knew it unlikely any of this would be implemented or even taken seriously. The Jedi were not fools after all. His diatribe was not really an attempt to draw complicity from them, more like an attempt to annoy and distract. Even now Ashrah was advancing through the jungle, eyes locked hungrily on the Temple, while Corr sought to draw the Jedi leaders into a conversation with very little purpose.
Perhaps they would bear fruit, perhaps not. Only time would tell.
Lower your shield and surrender to our forces. Your personnel and non-Jedi combatants will be spared and allowed to leave the system. You will be taken into custody and I give you my word that you would be... "dealt with" fairly.
He couldn't say the last without his visor twisting up into a horrid parody of a smile.
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Corr
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Post by Corr on Nov 7, 2013 17:19:49 GMT -8
The line went dead and Corr turned away with a grim smile twisting his helm grotesquely. He had known the Jedi would not yield to the demands and was prepared to do what it took to burn them out of their haven. Already Ashrah and the other would be advancing over the river to the south while his ships were poised to burn the jungles to the north. The destruction would hopefully force the Jedi onto the blasters and beskads of Ashrah's team and enable them to end this quickly so they could further their plans of galactic conquest.
He marched for the turbolift, his men falling into step around him, and gave a nod to Hathor. The man flashed a quick smile and activated the huge Baradium bomb the was designed to wipe this construction from the galaxy. Corr cast one last look at the prisoners, locking eyes with the Rodian for a moment. He could see that the being knew what was coming. They would be left there to perish in the fiery destruction to come, forsaken by their vaunted protectors and left to their deaths. The holocam still depicted them, set at an angle so they could see the armoured figures walking away. The broadcast displayed the image to the galaxy, innocents left to their deaths by the Mandalorians, but also abandoned by their Jedi saviors. Let the Republic stew on that for a while...
As the Mandalorian ships began to saturate the jungles below with turbolaser fire, igniting the wet tree's with concentrated fire, Corr left the bridge and made his way to his ship. The order was given to evacuate, many leaving their own surprises for the Jedi forces still on board. It didn't matter. It wouldn't be long before the station scattered itself over the system in a fiery explosion that would forever signify the death of this Jedi world...
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Bralex Ordo
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Post by Bralex Ordo on Dec 1, 2013 15:40:16 GMT -8
Bralex followed Corr and left teh station as well.
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Corr Vhett - puts the "Laughter" in "Manslaughter"..... 
