Ask Cold Company on Rothana

[Song Wren]

“Back!” she cried to the other Mandalorians. “Get back!”

Ignoring the sound of Renata’s laughter, the first hint of the woman’s true personality, Song reeled from the open hangar. In a whir of metal and sputtering engines, the Scorpenek annihilator droid shambled out into the open, shuddering as if it hadn’t seen daylight in years. Maybe it hadn’t. Chances were, it had been the final trick up Renata’s sleeve, her trump card and a last resort. Song should have known better than to believe the company would have fallen into their hands so easily. She should have anticipated this.

Now, she had to deal with the consequences.

A blast tore into the courtyard as the droid fired at her men. One Mandalorian was sent flying, his body crashing into a nearby series of crates. Others reacted quickly, activating wrist-mounted rocket launchers and firing at the droid in a matter of seconds. Fire and smoke engulfed the Scorpenek, but it was pointless. The droid emerged from the haze unscathed, its shield glittering in the cold sun. A shudder climbed her back. How could she possibly defeat something like that on her own?

She took to the skies, using her jetpack to gain some distance. When she tried using her flamethrower against it, the blaze slid harmlessly over the shield, as if she was dumping water instead of fire. When she tried slashing through it with the Sword of Wren, the blade of her ancestors, she was met with violent pushback, the recoil almost throwing her off-balance. None of her men’s blasters and grenades had any effect against the shield. Whatever she tried, wouldn’t work.

It was only then she remembered Renata. The switch she’d used to kick off this whole mess—perhaps it could be used to deactivate the droid. Maybe taking the woman hostage would end the battle before things spiraled out of control.

Song searched the courtyard for the woman, finding her entering the same hangar where the droid had emerged. “Keep it distracted!” she called to the rest of the Mandalorians, who’d since retreated behind cover and to the complex rooftops. Then, without another word, she dove into the hangar, intending to finish this once and for all.

 

[The Storyteller]

Veslin was no fool. While he’d been trained chiefly in melee combat, he was not so dumb as to let the Mandalorian get too close again, not after having broken his nose. So, the moment Nox parried his lightsaber and tried to close the gap between them, Veslin matched his step. He moved to the side, tilting his body to follow the momentum of his first attack. He moved around him, as if they had engaged in a dance instead of a duel.

While he knew it wouldn’t be enough to escape the Mandalorian’s next attacks, he was more than prepared.

Veslin used his already free hand to lash out as he dodged Nox. With the Force he’d been calling to him, he threw all its might against the Mandalorian’s torso, enough to send him flying. Sure, he wasn’t fast enough to escape the initial roar of fire that came from the wrist-mounted flamethrower, but Veslin was willing to stomach a split second of it if that split second meant tossing the man through the window like a rag-doll. And when he was tossed, the Dark Jedi would be quick to throw aside the burning exterior of his robes, bearing the pain of several burns.

The full force of the flamethrower, nor the raining glass from the repulsor, would hit Veslin. And with Nox out the window, he felt certain the Mandalorian would plummet to the icy courtyard below, every bone in his body shattered. Or so he believed.

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

To Nox's surprise, Veslin still acted surprisingly fast despite the shattered nose. The Jedi went with his strike, avoiding the brunt of the flames for a moment in order to pull off his counter. By the time he could process what was about to come next, the blast slammed right into his chest and lifted him off of his feet. If it weren't for the armor and his experience, he indeed would have just been sent flying through the window and to the courtyard below.

Unfortunately for the Jedi, he was quite proficient with his jetpack after months with it. Ever since acquiring it on Lothal, Nox had participated in campaigns, invasions, and even taken on more Jedi in that time. With so much time and combat experience, he knew the exact limitations of what was possible with the machine. Not only that, but being the Alor of Solus, panic rarely ever blossomed inside him, even when all seemed lost.

The moment he was struck with the force and sent toward the window, Nox acted off pure instinct. He had been thrown but as the flames still ripped from his gauntlet, he would slam his hand down on the gauntlet at once, activating the jetpack to counter-act the force throwing him. Flames would spurt out instantly and acted against the force to prevent him from being completely flung out the window.

Instead of being tossed laterally, the jetpack would elevate him and have his back slam into the wall above the window. With the relatively close space in the hallway, Veslin would still be within distance of the flamethrower and wrapped within its firey cacoon until the capsule ran out. Unfortunately for Nox, because he activated the jetpack and hastily fought against the push, he didn't have too much control and it resulted in him rocketing forward straight to the wall across from him.

Realizing what was about to happen, Nox shifted his body mid-flight, continuing the stream of flames onto the Jedi before he harshly slammed into the wall with his right shoulder. The Solus saw stars for a moment as he would drop to the ground with a grunt, the capsule running out at that point with the entire hallway scored from it. If his move had worked, the Jedi would be a charred corpse even though Nox had mostly dislocated his shoulder to pull it off.

Nox would lean against the wall for a moment, bending down to pick up his deactivated lightsaber hilt before readying himself once more despite his worsening condition.

 

[Song Wren]

Song found Renata inside the hangar, the man beside her cowering like a dog. She ignored him. Her real and only focus was on the traitorous delegate and the switch she’d used to activate the Scorpenek in the first place. Judgment could come later, for now she just needed to know how to stop the droid rampaging in the courtyard outside before more Mandalorian lives were lost. She couldn’t have that on her conscience. She would not have those deaths on her hands.

“Renata,” she called out, raising her blade to the woman. “De-activate the Scorpenek, or I’m going to start removing limbs. Parts of you that you will miss.”

In the drowsy light of the chamber, Renata didn’t even smile. She lifted her arms, leaving herself wide open, even as Song aimed the tip of her sword at the woman’s throat. She didn’t flinch. She hardly breathed. The only thing Renata did was glower at her disappointingly, like a mother would to an unruly child, and it made Song even more angry. The answer she got didn’t make things better, either.

Renata tossed her the switch, which she effortlessly caught. “It cannot be stopped. Unfortunately for you, nothing can stop it. Not even me. So, I’m afraid torturing me will amount to nothing, and all you can do is watch as one of RHE’s finest creations obliterates your forces.” Fury and disgust roiled through her. Distantly she could hear the shouting over comms, the cries and orders spilling from her own soldiers. “We can’t get past the shield!” one voice said, and another followed, “Get back! Get back!” Things were spiraling out of control. The tide was turning.

Unable to restrain her frustration further, Song lashed out. With a low swipe, she cut through the skin of Renata’s right leg, forcing her to the ground. Not even that was enough to satisfy her, because the woman didn’t even make a sound at the wound. She merely glared up at her, teeth gritting into a smile. “Attack me all you want,” she seethed, “but you lose today, Mandalorian. Justice will find you. As a matter of fact, it’s already right behind you.”

Song whirled. In the heat of the moment, she’d tuned out the warnings from her men and the sound of shifting metal at her back. And now, looking toward the hangar doors, she found the very Scorpenek she feared marching straight towards her.

 

[The Storyteller]

Veslin was surprised by the Mandalorian’s shift in position, his jetpack pushing him at an angle to avoid crashing through the window, but he didn’t hesitate. He reacted swiftly, understanding in that split moment the flames would not cease. With his already extended fist, he unfurled his fingers, expanding the Force push into something wider, like an invisible, moving wall. Whatever fire that continued to sputter from the Solus would be dispersed, reflecting back to him if he didn’t stop.

The reflection would last only a moment, however, before Veslin’s concentration shattered. The injuries he sustained from the initial flame burst had finally reached and exhausted his nerves. The only reason it hadn’t thrown him off completely was because of sheer adrenaline, and the pain he used and channeled into the Dark Side. He’d done the same with his broken nose, using his anger and torment as a tool rather than a liability, but doing that could only last so long.

He needed to breathe. He had to refocus.

Veslin backpedaled like a frightened cat as the Mandalorian slumped against the wall. He raised his lightsaber in case they came rushing at him again, but came to a stop at a comfortable distance, breathing heavily.

He’d severely underestimated him. With his reaction speed, the Solus could have passed as a Jedi himself, his reflexes easily on par with Veslin’s own. Greater, perhaps. The mere thought made him shiver with uncertainty, but whatever chill he might’ve felt, it was quickly replaced by a searing pain. His wounds. Taking the brunt of the flamethrower, even for a second, had left him seriously hurt.

Burns covered the skin from his right hand to shoulder, and the top right side of his head was a gross mess, his already thinning hair singed by the heat. “Bastard,” Veslin seethed. He sloughed off his robes, wisps of flame still clinging to the fabric. “You think this will stop me? I am a Dark Jedi. You are just a Mandalorian. A man in an iron suit—an iron coffin.” He spat, flourishing his lightsaber, ready to fight.

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

At first, the flames would be reflected back but it would stop only after a second, a small wave hitting him that quickly evaporated upon contact. While Veslin blocked a portion of it, the intensity of the heat and fire still burned and singed him, obliterating his concentration and shattering the wall. Unfortunately, the hand and his entire arm used to form the invisible protection would be scarred and burned but he would be alive.

Nox couldn't capitalize as he would still slam into the wall and feel pain jolt through his entire body. Even with the armor plates of both his beskar'gam and his actual arm, he felt his shoulder take the brunt of the impact and possibly dent underneath, able to feel the plates grind against each other. It hurt like a bitch but he was up on his feet as he would find the Jedi, or whatever the hell he was, nursing his own injuries.

As he started speaking, once more talking about how the Solus would be a dead man, the mandalorian would shake his head before he pressed his shoulder solidly on the wall. With one solid push and a grunt, he felt the plate shift back into place on his arm and the sharp pain that flooded into him from it made his eyes water. His teeth jaw would lock as he seethed through his teeth at the same time but he mended the wound. The Solus would give a shake of his head however before he pushed off the wall, the frustration and annoyance because of Veslin helped push the harsh sting that spread throughout his limb.

The question he asked would be simple, cutting off the Jedi before he finished, "You ever shut the fuck up?" His lightsaber would be sheathed and replaced by his gleaming beskad. Nox was tired of him and was ready to make him bleed.

---​

The singular red eye would snap to Song, its scanners first identifying Reneta and then the Wren. It was obvious to tell who the intruder was and the two laser cannons swung right toward her. Instead of firing directly at her, the dual cannons would elevate slightly above her before firing both into the wall above and the fixture above her. The power behind the cannons would be enough to shatter the wall, it cracking with the lights shaking above before it all fell down toward Song, pieces of debris half her size.

The Scorpenek would still continue its march toward her, the dual cannons just warmed up as it let out mechanical screeches.

 

[Song Wren]

For every retreating step Song made, Renata took three more. Meanwhile, the male delegate, Kaveh, took six. Neither shareholder seemed keen to get caught in the Scorpenek’s crossfire. Song might have thought the same, but she’d never been the particularly cowardly type, and she faced down the enormous droid with the cautious, warlike stare of a hunter. She searched for weaknesses. Something, anything, for her to capitalize upon. The shield was resistant to blaster bolts, blades, rockets, and about every weapon she could possibly think of.

How could she defeat such a godsforsaken beast?

“Think,” she hissed under her breath, like the demand would conjure up some fancy idea out of thin air, “Think.” She raised her blade. A foolish move, considering the Scorpenek’s: instead of firing directly at her, its cannons tore into the ceiling, raining chunks of stone and smoke over her position. Not wasting a moment’s hesitation, she leapt out of the way and used her jetpack to gain some distance. A good thing, too, because the droid continued to press the assault. Bolts lanced through the air. More explosions tore into the ground at her feet.

And despite it all, Song fought.

As she maneuvered around, desperately trying to dodge the Scorpenek with her jetpack, a plan began to formulate in her mind. An idea. A terribly dumb idea, but it was better than running circles around the droid until it tired out, which was very unlikely to happen. She needed to end this. She had to finish this battle before more Mandalorian lives were put at risk, even if it meant risking her own.

Song landed on the skeletal remains of an unfinished ship. The Scorpenek swiveled to face her, just in time to see her lean over and fire her jetpack rocket.

The missile soared. Not at the droid, but for the weakened pillar behind it—the last thing holding up the hangar ceiling. The Scorpenek paused, as if trying to understand her intentions, its dual cannons fixed on her position and ready to reduce her to a pile of ash. Then, came the first crack. And the next. And the next. Soon enough, the entire ceiling was groaning, the single pillar supporting it breaking under its weight. Dust and plaster fell to the ground. The Scorpenek’s shield glimmered, and suddenly confused, the droid stared up at the crumbling ceiling.

Just before the whole building came crashing down.

 

[The Storyteller]

Veslin reeled, heat and fury flashing across his features. He was tired. Sick and tired of being pummeled and reduced to such a state by a Mandalorian, a nobody. The fight should have ended minutes ago when they’d first crossed blades, and instead the Solus’alor had stubbornly resisted, breaking his nose and irreversibly scarring his arm, the pain in which he found almost unbearable. He thought the Force would protect him, but it was clear that it had done little against the many tools and weapons in the Mandalorian’s arsenal.

The fact he had more, too? It unnerved him.

Dread curled in his gut, but Veslin didn’t waver or show fear. Instead he hardened his insides, tensing his shoulders and regaining his composure while the Nox rose from the ground. Although he was given very little time to refocus, it was enough. He quelled the pain, channeling it into anger and then into power. Such was the Dark Side. Unlike his life as a Jedi Knight, he’d have never been able to harness such abilities—abilities that no amount of tricks the Solus’alor could use to stop him.

“Enough,” Veslin growled in response. “This ends now.”

He raised his other untouched arm and unfurled his fingers, pointing them at the Mandalorian as if each were a razor sharp knife. His nails were black and chipped, and small scars shaped like thunder bolts snaked around the skin. By the time his opponent would realize what was about to happen, it would likely be too late, because in a terrible rush of energy, Veslin unleashed his most powerful weapon yet: Force Lightning. Searing red light shot from his fingers, coursing towards Nox.

He was going to cook him alive.

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

The eyes of both Nox and Veslin had their short battle, their gazes filled to the brim with vitriol for each other. Hate had already festered for the sorcerers long ago but standing before this Dark Jedi, he realized it was justified. Despite being burned and scarred, the man still spoke down to him like he was nothing more than an ant. A new fury birthed inside the Solus, one that originated from him having to earn every inch he had achieved for his people while this Dark Jedi just used his power to corrupt others.

After twirling the beskad to face his opponent before he began to advance, ignoring the response as the words would simply bounce off his chest plate. But, as Nox neared and Veslin threw his hand forward, he expected another one of those damned force blasts and prepared to react. It would be too late for him when he finally saw the sparks ignite between the Dark Jedi's fingers before a burst of lightning shot forth, letting out an ear-piercing wail, the entire hallway coated in red light.

Nox tried to stop in place and either throw himself out the way but there was only so much space for him to move. It was the first time he had ever seen a move of its type, a true show of the type of majik the force-sensitives actually wielded. Both his eyes widened underneath his helmet as felt time momentarily slow down just to witness the lightning lash out before it all came rushing back in a snap and actually struck him.

The Solus was simply taken off his feet, jolts of electricity spreading through his entire body as he began to feel his plates and other machinery burn into his skin. He would tumble along the ground with a grunt, rolling over a few times before he finally came to a halt. Nox would let out a soft groan, columns of steam rising from various parts of his armor as he got to his knees, simply placing his hands on the ground to support him as he breathed heavily to collect his breath.

 

[Song Wren]

Song gasped awake. Struggling to catch her breath, she clawed her way out of the rubble of the hangar, her armor covered in a blanket of dust and ash. She couldn’t believe what she’d been thinking. Crippling the building’s foundation? Collapsing the ceiling right on top of her head? It had been a ridiculous plan. The only reason she wasn’t crushed under ten tons of concrete was because of sheer, dumb luck. At the last minute, she had launched herself for the last remaining pillar, closest to the hangar doors, as everything crumbled around her.

And because of that, somehow, she was still alive.

She crawled out of the wreckage. Light caught her visor and she recognized the feel of snow and wind on her cracked armor plates, and oddly enough, a strange silence. She gazed around the complex courtyard and found, to her surprise, that the leftover guards had either been killed, or surrendered. With her distraction of the Scorpenek droid, she and Nox’s men had managed to turn the tide of the battle. As long as that wretched annihilator stayed under the rubble, they could secure the remainder of the facility with relative ease.

Only it didn’t.

She spun around when she felt the ground at her feet shake. Once, then twice, then again. Feeling for her blade again, she wasn’t surprised when the Scorpenek burst from underneath the ruined hangar, metal parts and cogs shrieking under the weight of so much debris. A cloud of smoke rushed past her. She stood her ground despite it, even as the other Mandalorians tensed or backpedaled to find better vantage points. She had no intention of retreating. It might’ve been an ugly, hulking mass of steel, but it was scrap. And now that its shield was down, it was exposed.

As the Scorpenek shrugged off the dust and rock on its back, Song moved slowly toward it. Even as it caught her approaching, its red eye focusing on her as if she was its only target left in the world, she didn’t stop. Even as it shifted its dual cannons toward her, she kept walking. Moving. Sprinting. Forget the fact that the droid might melt her into slag if she got too close. She wanted this battle finished, so she charged right for the damn thing, shouting like a maniac.

 

[The Storyteller]

A wave of satisfaction rolled over Veslin as his opponent crumpled to the floor. Finally, some progress. He was surprised by how much of a fight the Solus’alor had put up—between shattering his nose and severely wounding his arm and shoulder—but the victor had been decided the moment Veslin had entered the picture. He was a Dark Jedi. Powerful, dangerous, and strong in the Force. There was no beating him. It was going to take far more than a few sneaky toys and clever tricks to stop him, and more than just bluster, which the Mandalorian seemed all he was.

“Doesn’t feel so good now, does it?” Veslin mocked.

He stalked closer to the fallen badger, drawing on his own pain and anger to refuel his strength. It was the only reason he hadn’t yet collapsed from exhaustion. His concentration and focus might have been wavering and he might be on the verge of death, but he still had enough energy left in him for one final strike. A finishing blow. He intended to deal it as quickly as possible, to end this threat to his future empire. “I am afraid this is where we part ways, Mandalorian.” His mouth split into a grin. “Farewell.”

Then, Veslin raised his hands again and unleashed another wave of lightning. This time, it would be enough to leave the Solus’alor on the ground for good.

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

On all fours, Nox struggled as jolts of electricity surged through him. His cybernetic spasmed, the fingers repeatedly opening and closing against his command. The same repeated for his foot as he would press it harshly against the ground to prevent his toes from moving. It was a strange sensation he had never felt before, his muscles drained and taut at the same time, his vision blurred, the only sound audible for him being his breathing.

The fight remained in the Mandalorian but his injuries were beginning to take their toll. While they weren't lethal yet, they certainly took their pieces of meat from him. If he didn't come up with a plan soon, then all the bullshit that the sorcerer had been spewing would have no longer have actually remained bullshit. Nox would rather turn in his grave than give Veslin the satisfaction of that.

Nox's lungs felt caked, his very breath cracking as he inhaled and exhaled. Despite the pain that flourished within him upon each breath, one sound battered aside everything else like a wrecking ball. It was footsteps and even in his haze, the Solus knew the only possibility was Veslin as he drew closer. With each one, he would slowly get more to his knees and be able to discern the Sith's final condolences. But, a fatal mistake had been made once the final step had been taken and Nox's head twisted up at the man in an instant, his visor locked on him with a new intensity.

Heaving himself up with a grunt, Nox launched himself at the ground and right at Veslin, his entire body thrown into it. As he did this, his left and still operable hand went to his lightsaber and activated it as it was pulled off the belt. The lightning that had been intended for defenseless Mandalorian would instead be caught by a white dazzling blade. That little fact caught Nox's attention despite what was happening as he had fully expected to be struck by the electricity once more. Propelled by his own effort and carried by his momentum and weight, the distance between the two combatants would close instantly with little to be done about it.

The lightsaber would be impaled directly through Veslin's stomach if it worked, it snapping out the other side with a hiss. Nox's right hand would slam down on the sorcerer's shoulder, holding him in place. Both of them stared into each other, breathing heavily until it was broken by the Solus, "For once, I agree with you... Farewell." Not wasting any more time, Nox would simply drag the hilt from the stomach up to his chest with a grunt of effort, melting and burning any organ in its path.


@Song

 

[Song Wren]

Bolts lashed the space where she once stood. Some landed inches from where she ran, and others just ahead, kicking up smoke and debris. She felt rock pelt her chest, but she pushed through it, ignoring the obvious danger that stared her in the face. The dust on her visor and the shrapnel digging into the cracks of her armor could wait. There were bigger things to think about—literally, the Scorpenek, raining attacks on her like an angry hurricane. It was a surprise she hadn’t been ripped to shreds already on her advance. A miracle, even.

Song chalked it up to a good odds. The droid’s targeting systems had been damaged as much as its shields had been drained when the hangar came down, and that was the sole reason she was still yet alive. Gods only knew how long that lasted, though. Not if she didn’t give this final attack her all.

As she closed the distance between her and the droid, Song ran up a pile of rubble, almost as if a staircase, and lunged directly at it. There was no time for the Scorpenek to retreat. No opportunity for it to raise its clawed feet to crush her. Instead it stared at her, cannons still firing, just before she smashed her blade into its eye and drove it through so hard she could feel her knuckles brush the plated glass. Shrieking, the droid reeled and stumbled back. She followed with it, twisting her blade around its central nervous system, until it finally collapsed to the ground.

She let out a ragged breath. Exhaustion crept in, and she casually tore out her sword from the droid’s eye, now fading to gray. “I hate droids,” she muttered, and stepped down from the metal corpse. By now, most of the smoke had cleared and a cold wind was sweeping over the ruined courtyard, enough for her to see that the battle was over. In the distance, she could already spot her and the Solus’alor’s men, rounding up the last of Renata’s men—and Renata herself, along with her little ‘pet,’ Kaveh.

Relief poured over her, but only for a moment. Instantly her mind drifted back to Nox, to the Dark Jedi he’d been facing, and dread gripped her like a vice. “Nox?” she called to him over comms, too tired and uneasy to refer to him by title. “Nox, are you there?”

@Orbit

 

[The Storyteller]

Shock hit Veslin like a ship. In the heat of the moment, he’d forgotten about the lightsaber, thinking the Mandalorian would continue to wield his toothpick of a sword. Instead, the blade lit up the drowsy corridor in white, catching the lightning in a sick crackle, and rage and disgust took hold over him. This man was no Jedi. He might have been able to absorb a blast of Force lightning, but only momentarily. In a moment, the attack would overwhelming the Solus’alor, and it would fry and melt him in his own metallic armor, finishing their duel.

Except it didn’t. And the duel? It was finished, just not in his favor.

A gasp escaped from his lips and a burning pain coursed through his whole body. One look down, and Veslin saw the lightsaber impaled in his gut. He blinked once, then twice, as if not entirely sure it was really there—but it was, and he could feel it. “You…” he grunted, and clutched the hilt of the blade now searing his insides. “You fucking…” Too late. Before he could so much as breathe another word, he watched in pure hate while the Mandalorian slashed his saber up and through to his heart.

It was over then. No more pain. No more hate. No more feeling. Just a deep, empty blackness, like dreaming of nothing. Veslin didn’t even have the chance to think on his mistakes, or how he might have done things differently. He only had time to die.

 

[Nox Solus]

The white blade seared through Veslin's flesh with ease, a hot knife that cuts through butter. Instead of completing the bisection of the sorcerer, Nox would halt the blade right when it met the heart. Both of the warriors stared into each other gazes, an unpenetrable visor meeting two unnaturally golden orbs that had revealed themselves in the last moments. The silent battle lasted only a handful of seconds before he could see the life slip away from Veslin's eyes as his head dropped.

Nox yanked the blade out and managed to take a step back as the sorcerer collapsed to the ground before him. Ironically, he could only stay on his feet for just as long. Suddenly, he would just feel a whoosh outside of his helmet before his back struck the ground as did the back of his head. A soft grunt escaped out of him, his vision, hearing, and thoughts droned out by fatigue. The lightning had done a lot of damage and he had spent the last scraps of energy in order to perform the killing blow. If it wasn't for Song's voice, he would have passed out right there, his eyes screaming louder than her for him to have them shut.

The Alor stared up at the ceiling, her question bouncing around his skull before he let out another grunt and shifted. With his good arm, Nox dragged himself to the nearby wall and sat back against it. Connecting to her comm-line, he answered with a tired voice, "Yeah... Yeah, I'm here." The entirety of his body wished that answer wasn't particularly true. Instead of letting her start to give a sit-rep, he asked her his own question, genuine concern layered within his voice, even though the exhaustion, "How are you holding up?"

What last he saw, Song had chased after the other two associates and deeper into the complexes. That meant more security but he had no idea she had been joined by the others. With his own condition, burns, and singe marks littering his armor, he hoped she wasn't in the same condition. As he waited for an answer, he could hear the clanging from the nearby door. The security forces were still trying to break through and his signal to leave. Nox spun and got onto his knees and lifted himself onto his feet with a heavy breath before saying to her, "Send me your coordinates."

 

[Song Wren]

A second wave of relief crashed over Song at the sound of Nox’s voice. He was alive. Not only that, but victorious. At least, she could tell he was by the weary irritation laced into his words, like he was about to faint from exhaustion—and with the general lack of dueling in the background, she knew the Dark Jedi had to be either dead, or fleeing halfway across the mountain range. Knowing how thorough the Solus’alor could be, she suspected it was the former.

“I’m fine. Just had to take down a whole fucking Scorpenek on my own, but I'm fine.” She rolled her left shoulder, finally realizing it had been dislocated during the building’s collapse, then firmly pushed it back into place. She groaned. “As soon we’re finished cleaning up here, I expect a hot bath to be waiting for me back on Mandalore,” she said, and punched her coordinates into her wrist controls. “Transmitting location now.” Then, without another word, Song strolled toward their remaining forces.

That bath would have to wait. There was still scum to deal with.

Upon reaching where Renata and her sniveling assistant, Kaveh, were being held, she flaunted her oil-slicked sword, as if to rub salt in the wound. The woman scowled. “Well,” Song said smugly, “it would appear the one who’s lost today is you, Renata. How does it feel, knowing both your master and your pet project are dead?” She gestured dismissively to the heap of scrap metal behind her, feeling more glib by the second. In the sky, she could hear the faraway roar of a jetpack, and she knew Nox had come.

Once he landed, Song would step aside. The other leftover Mandalorians would do the same, some bowing, others staring at him in awe, seeing the blood of a Dark Jedi spattered over his armor—a sign of strength. “Solus’alor,” said Song, nodding her chin to where Renata knelt, hands bound to her back. “What would you have us do with her?”

She let the question hang for a moment. As the acting commander of the mission, she thought it best to leave it to Nox on how they should handle a traitor like Renata. The woman was a snake, who’d sold her company out to the worst kind of enemy there was, who’d invited them into this complex and tried to trap them in gas—she deserved death three times over. Still, there was the matter of signing over Rothana Engineering, and right now, it seemed only Renata knew how it could be done.

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

Well, Nox hadn't been the only one who had a steep hill to climb. At the revelation of a Scorpenek, it put into perspective just how much resources had been dedicated to wiping them out. They had come here with diplomacy in mind but had simply been spat on by those that had hosted them. At the mention of the bath though, a smirk caught his lips, even despite the constant banging of the security forces attempting to get in.

"Good thing you know me then. That can be easily arranged and is quite deserved." Nox's voice carried a light-heartened nature to it but strain still laced within. Song was one of the first he knew and had joined him on quite a few of his crusades and because of the breakneck speed he had set, there hadn't been a chance for anyone really to just recover yet. She had never questioned him, despite even landing them in situations like these. Before his thoughts drifted anymore, there was an even louder bang at the door and he knew his time was up.

As he was about to take his dive out the window, Nox stopped by placing his boot on the window sill before turning around again, his gaze fixated on whatever the force-user was. Only a few seconds ticked by before he retrieved a souvenir and then took his exit as the guards busted in.

The flight only took a couple of minutes before Song and the rest would be able to discern his shape and hear the sound of his jetpack. Before he even landed, they would be able to tell he was carrying... something before it was dropped before them. It fell through the air like a bag of bricks, the limbs flailing lifelessly and giving the identity away before it splattered against the ground. Nox would land almost immediately after, dropping from the sky and landing in a crouched position with a slight thud from his weight.

As he stood to his full height in front of the others, specifically Renata, the extent of the damage would be revealed to his beskar'gam. Scorch and singed marks covered him, a few of the plates dented as he was also covered in the force user's blood. Nox ignored those that stared at or bowed to him, his gaze only fixated on the bound woman as his shadow was cast over her completely. At the question of what to do with her, he stepped forward, Renata for the first time trembling with fear as she tried to instinctively draw back from him but couldn't. Halting right in front of her, Nox crouched down slowly until they were face to face and she was able to see her own reflection. The stare lasted for a moment before he simply asked and a tone that indicated he wasn't in the mood, "Where are the rest of the executives?"

Renata first stared into his visor, then glanced at her former boss in a crumpled heap behind him, the sight shattering her resolve. Without saying a word, she directed her head to a nearby tower and gave it a silent nod. Nox would then glance toward Song before saying, "We go say hello to them."

 

[Song Wren]

Song was pleasantly surprised by how quickly Renata gave into Nox’s demands, no interrogation required. She guessed most would against a glare like his. He cut an imposing figure with so much blood on his armor, and the Solus’alor had forged quite a reputation for himself in the last few months of conquest and expansion. He was not the kind of man to be trifled with. Now that Renata had lost everything, including her master, she would be lucky not to lose her life, next. There was little more than she could do than give them what they wanted and hope for the best.

As Nox spun on his heels to the nearby tower, Song nodded to the men and they dragged both Renata and Kaveh off to where they wouldn’t cause any more trouble. They might prove useful in the future. Maybe not. At the end of the day, the company was no longer theirs, and as traitors, they’d get whatever punishment the Solus’alor believed they deserved.

She sighed. Song was just glad the worst was over.

Inside the tower, the executives were kept in a series of holding cells. Nothing inhumane, but nothing fancy, either—just a bed, a sink and a toilet for each individual prisoner. Some rose as she and Nox entered. Others cowered, expecting they were guards coming to torment them for information. She almost pitied them. Under the artificial light, most were still dressed in professional clothes, now rags after months of captivity, and a few had gaunt cheeks, pale and wrinkled skin, and it was obvious they hadn’t been eating like they used to.

She was amazed the Dark Jedi hadn’t simply killed them all once Rothana Engineering was under his command, but she suspected he wanted to keep hostages—someone who knew the business in case outside governments started asking questions. As a former subsidiary to Kuat, the last thing the Dark Jedi would have wanted were Republic Sector Rangers knocking on their door. Then again, Veslin had been greeted by something much worse than Rangers. Much more efficient, too.

“Mandalorians,” said a reedy voice. Song turned to find the closest executive, an older man with silky black hair, pushed up against the glass wall of his cell. His eyes had widened, and she thought he might actually start crying. “Are you with him? The Jedi? Please, whatever it is he’s paying you, I can double it. Triple it. We’ll do whatever you want, just please, get us out of here.”

Song cast Nox a long, satisfied look. “Whatever we want, huh?”

end thread.​