A massive cataclysm has struck the universe, and destroyed most everything in its wake. The survivors are now trying to pick up the pieces, and figure out exactly what has befallen them. Gather together, lightsiders!! The darkness has shattered the peace and calm of the galaxy...and they will do anything to stop anyone from finding out exactly what has been done! This is our first sitewide RP plotline. Lightsiders, you are looking for the source of this massive event. Clues must be found, lackeys tracked down, and bits of memory discovered. Darksiders, you guys don't want that to happen....because of the one behind the whole thing is furthering his ultimate goal. Mandalorians, and non-force users, you guys can decide where you stand on this line....do you side with the Jedi, and try to discover the reasons behind the ruined universe, or will you side with the darkness, and protect those secrets. Will the secret of the cataclysmic reaping be kept under wraps? Or will the Jedi and their allies find out the truth? Your RP and writing will decide the outcome!
BATTLE ARENA
Welcome to The Saga Continues. We have a section called the Battle Arena. Here you can use your characters to fight other characters. Hone your skills and see what you are made of. Don't worry, anything that happens here, does not effect your characters in posts, so if your character dies, you can still use them over and over. Have fun and check it out!
The Saga Continues is the product of the mind of ADMIN ADI; all contents are copyright their original owners. All characters belong to their original creators, and may not be used or replicated without permission. All images are copyright their original owners. This skin Operation Mindcrime was made by pharaoh leap of Pixel Perfect and put together by ADMIN KRYSTAL
“And a shekemir you can remain, if that’s your wish. There’s no need for war. The old gods and new traditions can exist as one, you can have your faith and we our six acts. I think we can agree the last thing our people need is division. Not in times like this.” No, it likely wasn’t that simple, but a civil war didn’t need to be the only option. They were scattered now as a people more than they ever had been in galactic history, and she wanted to see that mended, not made worse.
The bite of his first question was hard to ignore, but Keira met his gaze with an ease she suspected was uncommon, presenting him with an inquiry in return. “Why not earn your way back?” An idea he would likely deny, but she pressed on, “Whatever the consequence, it would rest on my head, not yours. It’s my clan you’re welcomed to, no one else’s. And with no standing Mand’alor, no one to deny the decision. The aliit govern themselves, just as they always have.”
Leaning back against the wall, she gave his final statement genuine consideration. Nothing said at the table had been without purpose, and this was no different. It was a test of sorts, one where only the individual presenting it knew the right answer. Adjusting her stance, helmet tucked under her arm, she took a breath, unsure of what he wanted from her.
But then, he’d no doubt been wondering the same since she first called him over.
“Mando’ade are fighters, ‘lek? You seem to know that more than anyone. Our livelihood has long been built on conflict. If we cannot find a way, we will make one, as it has always been.” Pausing for a moment, she held his gaze steadily. “I don’t shy away from a fight, ad’ika. But I will not kill without reason.”
If anything, he was straightforward and to the point, something Keira could appreciate. But most aruetiise came to Mandalore seeking the same thing, and she saw no reason why he should be any different. Their people once held fame as warriors, mercenaries and bounty hunters, and such was the reason most came calling to their door. The opportunity to gain much needed credits could be appreciated, but they needed to be turning their attention inwards, not fighting other’s wars for them and inviting conflict to those that could hardly afford it.
In response to his bow she merely waved her hand dismissively; the vode did not abide by such formalities and found them wholly unnecessary. “We thank you for your generosity, but I’m not one to take offers without knowing to what they pertain. No one gives so freely without expecting something in return, and I won’t indebt my people to an outsider we don’t know or trust.” Contrary to how they may have been interpreted, her statements weren’t intended to be inflammatory. This was simply the nature of how Mandalorians did everything: from diplomacy to war, there was never a people more blunt.
“You seek an alliance, ‘lek? And what would my people stand to gain that we could not find elsewhere? We have enough to worry about without needing to look to the outside for potential conflicts. With all due respect, my people and I have little and less trust of outsiders, not to mention Force-sensitives, and to my understanding you and your people are both.” It rubbed her wrong that they would come seeking an agreement in times such as these, when the galaxy itself was on the brink of war, not to mention the civil disputes brewing within whatever governments were left standing.
“And you are not Mandalorian, aruetii. You do not wear our armor. It is not your place.” They were a fiercely proud people, if nothing else. Mand’alor needed to match it.
This wasn’t the first time outsiders had come to their planet, and it wouldn’t be the last.
It was, however, a rarity for anyone to make the journey to Mandalorian space these days, and even rarer so without some sort of agenda at their back. That this one requested a peaceful audience did little to quell her concern, and anything they had to say about their intentions meant little and less. Action was valued largely over any sort of talk, and none of that had changed in the time since the galaxy had last heard anything of the Mandalorians.
::Mand’alor will speak with you. You do not have permission to land at this time.:: The response was returned in short order, typed out by her own hand. Much like every other people or culture that populated the galaxy, the Mandalorians were hardly in any shape to be inviting outsiders to their planet, let alone those they hardly knew or trusted. If these ones wanted an audience, it would be done on her terms and no one else’s.
Chatter soon came through that a shuttle was en route to the planet, and she cursed, standing and pulling on her helmet as she went. “Have them escorted by bes’uliike, and set up sniping positions in the spaceport of Keldabe. I’ll meet them there.” Within minutes two iron war beasts would meet the Lambda-class in its descent to the planet, and both would escort the shuttle to the spaceport, silent in their guardianship, though the message was clear: you’re in our territory now, and there won’t be any second chances.
Once they landed Venator would be greeted by five fully armored Mandalorians, four of them being her honor guard, as they awaited his emergence from the shuttle. The others posted at the spaceport weren’t visible in the immediate area but were just as deadly all the same, having set up firing positions at key points in the instance this turned volatile.
Her lips pressed together, Keira considered the state those he led on Concord Dawn were in, knowing full well there wasn’t a perfect solution. "You’ll be given what we can spare. As far as pushing them out goes, well," She knew what needed to be done, but the very words weighed heavy on her heart, "We rally. If they’re so insistent on war, that’s what they’ll get. It’s been some time since the vode have been called upon." And it fell on her to do it.
"If you need any more, let me know and we will provide. The best option I see is an attack from without, while your men push from within the capital. They have nowhere to go, and once we close the gap, they burn." It seemed simple enough, but nothing was rarely as it easy as it seemed on paper. The first obstacle was finding which clans would follow and which would abstain, and this time around she wouldn’t blame them: a civil war was far from an ideal cause.
Finally, she sat down next to him. "I don’t want to keep you, I know your aliit must need you on Concord Dawn. I will see what I can do here, for the time being, and then we will give these priests their war. The last thing our people need is more division, we need to rebuild more than anything. Stay in touch, al’verde. This isn’t a fight you’re facing alone."
In order to avoid his second grab at her Keira dove forward, rolling around the E-Web as it immediately became a less than viable option given how quickly he was able to close the distance. Now that she knew how fast he was able to move, that changed things. She would have to plan around an enemy that could be where she was within seconds, if not less. If anything, this was certainly pushing her limits.
As soon as she hit her feet again she kept running, the three-hundred-sixty degree vision of her HUD allowing her to pinpoint the exact moment his grasp closed around the E-Web. In that same breath she drew her ripper-pistol from her hip, the automated targeting assistance in her helmet allowing her to fire off a three shots in quick succession towards its charge pack, ones that if they impacted would cause an explosion that would ideally blow off the majority of his arm - if the appendage could be called anything remotely close to that - to smithereens.
With the idea that yet another explosion would buy her time, she took off again in a run, her destination having changed yet again. This was far from the most ideal quarters to take on a being his size, but so long as she could keep some modicum of distance it wouldn’t end in disaster. Hopefully.
Keira had to admit, she was surprised she’d made it this far. According to the dossier most hunters barely managed to land a hit on the beast, let alone the few solid ones she’d accomplished so far. And she wasn’t about to let her good fortune stop now, no matter what efforts he made to the contrary. When Mandalorians fought it was to win, and one way or the other that’s what would happen here.
With her tomahawk she hacked at the tendrils of nerve and muscle that attempted to ensnare her, her goal simply to cut enough away that she could break free on her own. Assuming it successful she would jerk her way out of his grasp, unable to pull her tomahawk from the mess along the way.
As the elevator descended to her destination she rolled off the platform before it could fully touch down, taking off in a dead sprint towards the E-Web roughly ten meters away. Her next goal was simple: arm the weapon and use it to tear her enemy apart piece-by-piece. Gen’Dai may have been able to regenerate any wound, but the key was to overwhelm them to the point that was impossible.
Shit. That was her only thought as the explosive compromised the catwalk, sending her tumbling twelve feet to the hangar floor. Quick thinking was the only thing that saved her, and Keira rolled as she hit the ground, remaining prone for only a split second as she gathered her wits. As she pushed herself to her feet her shoulder screamed in protest, an injury she was forced to ignore for the present moment as she took off in a dead sprint towards the elevator - sending thanks to the powers-that-be that it was already headed down.
In order to cover distance faster she slid feet first to close those final feet, landing on the elevator platform with a metallic clang that more than startled the cargo worker now in there with her. Pushing past him she keyed the button for another hangar on the ship, one she knew where the Imperials kept their ground-assault weaponry - including heavy vehicles.
Rolling her shoulder, she winced and cursed quietly, realizing only then that she lost her rifle and greataxe both in the fall. The worker hurried out of the elevator once they reached the next bay, and she instantly thumbed the button to close the doors, anxious to reach her destination before her prey could put together the plan she had in mind.
The fact that he was still moving was a testament to both their wills, for most beings wouldn’t have been able to survive such a cataclysm, and similarly most hunters would have given up on pursuing a prey so resilient. But Keira was far from most hunters, and if she had her way this fight would end here and now.
Another six shots were unloaded on the TIE racks, dropping the final two fighters from the same vertical stack in an effort to pin the beast and keep him there. Prior dossiers had indicated some degree of Force-sensitivity, and she wasn’t on banking being able to keep him down for long before instinct kicked in and he returned the favor.
At the moment, she would take what she could get. This was just the beginning of the real fight.
In the seconds after the other two TIEs came crashing down she reached back with her left hand for her spare wrist rocket, not taking the time to reload and instead using her enhanced cybernetic strength to throw it downwards towards the Gen’Dai and all the twisted metal that surrounding him, gravity assisting in its trajectory. Just before it made impact she would fire again, and if her aim struck true the rocket would explode, in turn causing the engines of the TIEs to follow suit and release a cacophony of destruction.
Mandalorians were a fiercely headstrong, independent people, but they were far from stupid, contrary to what some of the greater galaxy liked to believe. A warrior culture didn’t survive millenia on luck alone, nor were they about to start now. Keira knew what she was up against, more than enough to be aware that for as destructive as it had been, that single explosion was far from enough to bring an end to things.
The readings of her helmet told her as much as the scanners set to work, and it seemed that for the moment they were at an impasse. Neither wanted to move and give up their advantage, both content to wait for the other to slip up so they could exploit it.
Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t going to move too far.
From her initial look around the hangar she’d taken note of the racks of TIE fighters on the left and right walls respectively, and knew from past experience that they weren’t the sturdiest of contraptions holding the ships in place, as they had to give enough for the pilot to maneuver from the hangar.
Pulling her EE-3 from her back she pressed the stock back into her shoulder, sighting down the weapon at the fragile joints of the racks holding one particular TIE Defender in place and letting loose a three-round burst of semi-automatic fire that would be enough to compromise the stability of the TIE it held in place, causing it to careen down on top of the Gen’Dai where he lay beneath the wing.
And if that wasn’t enough, she would let out one more burst of fire to the rack holding the TIE just above that, hoping that if she wasn’t able to kill him there would at least be enough damage done to level the playing field.
For a time Keira only sat there, not quite looking to him but not quite looking away either, seemingly in a limbo of sorts, as if she hadn’t heard his words. The pressure of his hand on her shoulder was the only thing keeping her grounded in the present, and for it she was mostly thankful. The muscles of her jaw worked slowly as the weight of it all sunk in, the true extent of what he asked of her.
After some moments she stood, crossing the room with a sharp exhale and not turning to face him for those first few seconds, arms crossed. When she finally did her brow was furrowed, the lines of her face sharp. "You came this far to ask me to reclaim a title I never wanted in the first place." Tentatively she took a few steps towards him, running her hands down her face with a sigh.
"It doesn’t sound like I’m being given much of a choice." She spoke in fragments, not entirely sure herself what her answer would be. There was too much here to consider, and the window of time granted wasn’t nearly large enough.
Chewing her lip, she watched him for a moment as if the answer could be found there, arms finally falling to her sides in defeat. "Okay." She rubbed her eyes, well aware of the headache that was to come. "‘Lek, fine, I’ll do it. Don’t expect to find much favor while leading the people into a civil war. What are your plans?"
"Does this prophet also have an interest in declaring himself Mand’alor?" Keira had listened to every word with the corners of her mouth drawn tight, only directly meeting his eyes as she posed her halfway rhetorical question. Sighing quietly, she ran a hand over her head, considering the dire tale he spun.There was nothing to say, and yet he expected an answer.
Nodding her head, she opened fists she hadn’t recognized as being clenched tight until that moment. "I believe I’ve met the prophet you speak of. He was at the Oyu’baat not long ago. We spoke briefly, and he enlightened me as to his crusade. Now I suppose we know what was meant by that, ‘lek?" She laughed humorlessly, the terse smile never reaching her eyes.
"You have the backing of my clan in the coming conflict. Aliit Verd stands with you." As if that had ever been a question in the first place. Her stake in the inevitable war had been present from the very beginning, and making it known was only a formality at this point.
Silence persisted for the following seconds, and again she met his gaze. "Now, what is it you’re really here to ask of me?"
Equipment listed in her bio; wrist rocket is the anti-vehicle variety. There was a lot Keira had learned to put up with in life, from being woken up in the ungodly hours of the morning to change a screaming infant, to leading a warrior people from the front lines. In forty-six years she’d seen a lot, dealt with a lot, and fought and killed all number of different beings. At this point in her life she figured nothing could surprise her.
Nine Hells, did she hate being proved wrong.
At present she was crouched on the catwalk that sat above the entrance to the hangar and granted her an overlook across the open expanse beneath her. From her vantage she had a clear view of the Lambda-class shuttle and the giant of a man that had disembarked - if he could even be called a man in any sense of the word. Squinting beneath her helmet, she let her hand fall on the greataxe that rested against the railing beside her.
This wouldn’t be easy, but nothing worth that many credits ever was. Shifting while still doing her best to remain in what little cover the railing of the catwalk provided, she activated her wrist rocket launcher with a shift of her eyes. Raising her arm, she primed the targeting systems with another blink, her target the front of the joint that connected the central wing to the rest of the shuttle.
Taking a breath, she steadied her arm, a twitch of her pupils removing the safety from the launcher.
A final exhale, and she braced herself for the recoil.
Another blink and a twitch of her eyes, and all hell broke loose.
If the anti-vehicle rocket impacted as intended, it would sent the central wing of the shuttle careening down on the cockpit, which would in turn compromise its structural integrity and cause both it and the wing to collapse on the giant that had positioned himself so near the ramp.
When he pulled away she left it at that, allowing him his space and not pressing the issue. In those seconds before he jerked back Keira knew she’d glimpsed at a side of him few had witnessed, and she would grant it the consideration it deserved later. As soon as he pulled away the mask again descended to disguise his emotions, covering them with the same coarse attitude he’d originally displayed upon his initial greeting. There was a struggle within him, that much was clear, two halves unable to reconcile themselves into a single whole.
As he moved to stand she watched him, holding his gaze as he spoke. A beat passed before she pushed herself to her feet, movements slow so as not to startle him. "I want you to consider something for me as you continue your path, ad’ika. Ask yourself why you feel the need to resort to torture and terror in order to spread your message. Why you are unable to inspire loyalty without using fear. Consider these things, and perhaps you’ll learn something before you return."
With one hand she picked up her helmet, studying his face as he stood there, apparently uncertain of his next move. "You don’t have to rush to leave, ad’ika. You have a place at my house and my table if you wish it." Not an uncharacteristic offer for her to make to most, but one he likely didn’t expect to receive given their present dialogue.
Careful not to block his exit, the corners of her mouth turned up in another slight smile. "Find me when you return, after you’ve had time to think over what I’ve asked you. I’m curious what you'll have to say."
Long had it been since any had addressed her by such a title. These days the most formality granted was the mantle of alor, but even that was reserved only for particular occasions. That he knew her immediately as a past Sole Ruler raised questions, but she would let it pass in favor of the more pressing matters he brought with him. With a glance over his shoulder to check if he brought others along she stepped aside to allow him entry, the door sliding closed behind him.
With a wave of her hand she would indicate for him to follow, leading him into the living room and taking a seat on the couch, gesturing for him to sit wherever he wished. Even in the main room there were few windows to let light in, and those that did exist were strategically placed to provide the best oversight of the property immediately surrounding her dwelling. An old warrior she may have been, but that had only served to increase her want for such precautions.
"You can rest easy, al’verde, you’re among friends here. What’s troubling you?" None of her clansmen were currently on Concord Dawn as far as she was aware, most either making their home on Mandalore or venturing elsewhere in the galaxy for the sake of adventure, credits or some combination of both. Whatever news he brought, she had a feeling it concerned the whole of their people.
That, coupled with the fact that he’d deemed it necessary to greet her as a former Mand’alor caused a pit to form in her stomach, and she was loath to make any assumptions until he confirmed or denied her suspicions. Still, she had a feeling little else would have brought him to her door with such a particular greeting.
But then, as she’d been reminded of late, there truly was nothing idle about her person.
There would be no mention of it, no outward indication of her intentions. But her own gauntleted hand would reach out to brush against his own clenched fists, a wordless gesture whose interpretation was left up to the man seated across from her. A strange gentleness accompanied it, one most didn’t understand as synonymous with her existence but learned it to be true in time. Age had softened her only a modicum at a time, but her maternal instinct shone through all the same.
"The Resol’nare has been our way since the days of the Crusaders. What you speak of is the annihilation of an entire culture and way of life in favor of a religion that is now only a fraction of our society. Mandalorians are the Resol’nare, ad’ika, it would do you well to remember that. Without it we lack a soul, we’re dar’manda." Nothing accusatory, and there was almost an offer secreted away behind those words: she would help him onto the right path again, if he so wished it.
To his final observation Keira only nodded, offering a tired - but no less genuine - smile. "'Lek, there’s not. There never has been, not for as long as I’ve known our ways." It was easier to distract herself when she was busy, whether that be with fighting in her younger days or management of a clan now. Never had she found it in herself to slow down, though age had decided to do that for her, piece-by-piece.
"Perhaps I called you over here to kill you, but that would be a waste. No, ad’ika, I only wanted to talk. To understand." She gestured, indicating all he’d said before of the lack of knowledge as to his true motivations, why he went to the lengths they both knew he did to get this far.