Ask [Concordia] Beneath the Surface

Fenyang

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Heavy, steel boots crunched on the ferrous soil of Concordia. The Mand'Alor, flanked by two Mandalorian warriors, approached an ancient mining platform nestled in the hills. He thought back to his first visit to this old mine, years ago when he was inducted into the Death Watch. Before he was Mand'Alor. Before he was even truly Mandalorian. It was a headquarters, of sorts, for his small band of terrorists and assassins. It was said that Pre Vizla had converted the masses of the planet's mines into industrial fortresses for the Death Watch. Anything from as small as blasters to as large as fighter jets were assembled within the cavernous factories. In his absence, and with the splintering of the Death Watch, these arms factories became little more than minuscule hideouts for Mandalorian squatters. A mere fraction of their true value, as the production hubs of a new war.

He unslung his assassin's rifle from his back, checking the weapon's sights as they continued their march. He zoomed in on the old factory - in all his years in the Death Watch, never did the smokestacks seem so abuzz. Someone had learned what he had - these factories were the true source of Concordia's power. He looked to his left and right, regarding the two Mandos he had brought with him. Drak of Vulfur, a known Death Watch clan. This one had challenged his authority. He would have accepted his challenge, but his supporters fell in line quick enough that it did not resort to that. This expedition would be a test of their mutual trust - an alliance that could mend the broken Death Watch cells.

The other was a stranger to him, Taz Fett. He was a bounty hunter, as so many of his people were. Enacting the wretched galaxy's wicked form of 'justice,' across the galaxy. It was a pale shadow to The Mandalorian Protectors of old, merciless law bringers who punished dissent from Mandalorian law. But, now was a time of redemption for them all. Fett was a powerful name, and an infamous one. In between the Clone template and the reported Daimyo, it was a history marred by collaborationism and crime. Such old feuds still mattered to some Mandalorians, but hardly to Fenyang. As an old Mandalorian saying went, it does not matter who your father was, only the father you become. This was Taz's opportunity to prove himself before the Mand'Alor to the whole Mandalorian people.

<Get ready. They must be heavily staffed to be this active.> He spoke in Mando'a, leaning into his rifle's scope to scan. They were still marching up the hillside into the mountain - their potential enemies had the high ground. They were likely outgunned, walking into an unknown evil, a tiger's den. But these were the days of the Mand'Alor, days of the Mandalorians' greatest fables. There was no force in the galaxy powerful enough to stop their march.


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Drak Vúlfur

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The old factories of war had been awakened once more, but unfortunately, it had not been done by their true owners. Some aruetii had taken over this territory for reasons that were unknown to them. They didn't care why they borrowed what rightfully belonged to them, the only thing that mattered was that they were about to pay back what they had owed to them for their appropiation of Mandalorian assets in blood.

Even though most of his people had decided to stand with the new Mand'alor, even though his views pretty much aligned with his, Drak Vúlfur couldn't help but still feel somewhat uneasy about an unproven Mandalore leading all of them. He had had unconventional views when it came to working alongside other factions in the fact, he believed that, as bringer of changes, Mandalorians shouldn't have to feel ashamed of fighting alongside force sensitive warriors as long as it brought purpose, even if he personally didn't like them either.

However, while Mandalorians had already fought alongside both jedi and sith in the past, rejecting the sacred tradition of trial by combat in order to become Mand'alor didn't sit right with him, only abidding because, in the end, it was what his fellow brothers and sisters chose. One of the reasons he had volunteered to join Fenyang on this mission was to see him in action, to see him fight and calm his heart. He was a member of a Death Watch clan, after all, so that would probably be the case, or so Drak hoped.

The other reason as to why he joined this mission, of course, was because, even if he was a descendant of the part of the clan that joined the deathwatch instead of opposing it, he was still Vúlfur. While not very bussiness oriented, he was still a man of the forge, an artisan and an engineer, he wanted to see the fires of the factory work for a higher purpose, already planning to ask the Mand'alor to allow him to stay at the factory and make it work for his brothers and sisters that were going to take over Lothal, he itched for a great fight such as that one, but he wanted to be near the forge just as much, and it was something certainly needed.

Carrying his flame projector, Drak walked alongside the other two warriors, making sure every single piece of his armament was ready to go before looking forward "<Not for long.>" The factory was designed in such a way that a bit of heat from his flamethrower wouldn't do much damage if it even went astray, and even then, he was skilled enough to not shoot it in the direction of anything volatile. Drak would make sure nothing but cinders remained of his victims and use the rest as fuel for the fires of the factory, this is the way.



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Taz Fett

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Taz flanked the left side of the group as they walked toward the smoke in the distance. The three of them saying very little to one another either on the ship ride over, or the march to their vantage point to overlook their target. The Fett warrior understood the value of such a facility and believed it to be once a held by the Death Watch in times past. But that was it.

His family, or rather his clan had been cast out of the warrior Houses many years ago. Denounced for the actions of few. Such dishonor had cast the Fetts to the winds. Now his family were few. However with the rise of this new leader came the opportunity. To server a purpose greater then himself, the bring honor and not just infamy back to the name Fett.

The smoke grew as the three warriors moved ever closer. The tension of the moment to come building within him, as it must with all warriors. Rather then comment on Fenyang words, Taz said a brief prayer in Mando'a <Through my pain, I grow stronger. Through passion my resolve is clear. By my spear my enemies will fall. By my sword I gain glory for my name forever. Gods of War, grant me victory or Manda.> Then clicked off the safety off his new Wolverine rifle.

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Fenyang

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Drak had offered words of valor. Taz, a prayer. These two were the right picks for the job. In response to both, there was only one word that the Sons of Mandalore would need before the butchering started. "Oya." An answer to a prayer, and a promise of a good hunt. It was what Mandalore needed.

Through his enhanced scope on his beskar helmet's visor, he saw orange light emerging from deep within the mining tunnel. He glanced down to Drak's flamethrower. Perhaps the flames of the forge were the light source of the mine. Or perhaps there was something else at play. Either way, the Mand'Alor wanted to investigate. Someone was squatting in a place that had once been a home to him. That was reason enough to deliver justice to these aruetii.

By this point, the trio was near the entrance, the massive jaws of a cave-facility, opening a portal to the ground. Inside, the path ahead looked clear - smooth, metallic floors and ceilings embraced the rocky caverns beneath. These metal floors reflected the orange glow from deeper within the cave, he realized; they formed almost a perfect mirror.

Fenyang When he looked again, there was a being. A sentient. He could tell this one was little more than a boy - malnourished, dragging a crate ineffectively behind him to the surface. <Hold your fire only if you see Mandalorian colors.> His single command. Already, he was forced to kill more of his people than he had wanted. He would do it, happily, to secure the fate of his people. But, if there were Mandalorians in this cave, perhaps they could be reasoned with.


This boy was no Mandalorian, though. From outside the entrance of the cave, he lined up his targets on the teenager's face. It was wretched - starved, bruised, sullen. He had no hope. This boy was a prisoner or slave, a demeaned laborer at best. Not a threat.

But not a Mandalorian. Fenyang lined up his Assassin's Rifle, cooly, as he found the right angle to fire. It had to be his weapon. From this range, the interlopers deeper in the cave would not be able to hear it. And the boy could not go running back to his kidnappers, his masters. He would save his comrades from staining their honor with the kill of an unarmed prisoner. This was his justification, he realized, this dual purpose. The boy's death would serve Mandalore.

He fired his first shot, and a yellow blaster bolt appeared with the yelp of his rifle. The bolt traced his trajectory, landing right on the boys' neck. He fell without a word, his crate of goods toppling and spilling to his feet. The bolt smoldered where it landed, trails of smoke billowing from the blaster.

Out of the crate below the group fell weapons. Knives, blasters, swords, slugthrowers appeared by the dozens. Surely, there would be countless more beneath. They just needed to go deeper in. As the group entered, they would begin to hear the loud sounds of industry clamoring beneath their feet. Hammers hammering, flames roaring, people yelling. There were two paths ahead, both lit by the orange glow of the cave: One was the cave's natural path, cramped and dark. The other was an excavated tunnel's turbolift, sleek and new, that would seemingly take them to the heart of the mine.

Two paths but one destiny. He gestured to the paths ahead. The group had decisions to make, and he would hear their counsel first.


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"Oya." Drak said in return after the prayer as well, following along as they got closer and closer to the mine. Nodding in response to the Mand'alor's command, watching silently as Fenyang executed a young boy in cold blood. Drak was no stranger to that kind of ruthlessness, he had burned innocent men and women in fights before, always justifying it as the way of war and the fact that they had certainly made their choice when they decided to stay at a planet that was their target, but when it came to slaves, it was really a worthless death...and a worthless kill.

<"It has been a Mandalorian tradition to adopt into our tribes slaves, prisoners and similar in the past. We could come out of this fight not only with weapons and more assets, but growing numbers that will be needed for the upcoming crusades, should we act carefully."> Drak whispered, while they were more united than ever, they still lacked numbers, especially since a number of Mandalorians had decided to oppose them "<But it's your choice to make, to decide if pulling our punches to take this chance is worth it, Mand'alor>" His reasons behind proposing such an idea didn't come from empathy, but mostly a balance of pragmatism and tradition, but whatever Fenyang said, Drak would follow.

Not long after they had another choice ahead of them, and Drak thought the answer to it was simple, pointing towards the one that had light coming from it. The dark one was either unused or only a place for workers to sleep, there was a higher chance they would find more opposition in that one, and so it was better to decide to take them by surprise before they were definitely spotted.


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Taz Fett

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"Oya." He replied in his husky voice. The prayer was one that Tora had thought him when he was very young. As this was perhaps the very first time he joined other Mandos in battle he felt it appropriate for the moment. It appeared the two humans agreed with the sentiment.

Taz had seen the same glow in the mines that Fenyang had seen. Taking the scope attachment from a pouch on his belt he watch the very same thing as the Mand'alor. The order to not hold their fire puzzled the Yautkan. <You will, be done. Mand'alor. But I see as the Vulfur. Taking the lives of innocents, only to save color and sigil?> There was no honor in killing a child, especially one without a weapon. However, this mission was the Mand'alor's to judge. And the words of the two warriors would be answered with the boy's death.

With the "threat" dealt with, they continued to move into the facility. Which seemed to be working to it's peak intention. The noise of which would nearly deafening to the reptilian humanoid. Taz could hardly hear the two other Mandalorians but he understood the implied question. Taz would smile, though neither of the other men could see it. And it was frightening to most that had. Taking the shaft of his collapsed staff weapon in hand, Taz pointed to the shadowed path. <Let us hunt from the shadows.>

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Fenyang

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The Mand'Alor paused as the two beside him implicitly challenged his command. They were bold to do so. He would reward their honesty with conversation, more than they had received on the trip out there. If he could convince his brothers of the enormity of the task ahead, he could convince them that some traditions will have to be shed to free their world. <Brothers, the adoptions stand. You are welcome to claim any you find worthy as a foundling.> As long as the burden of care fell on him and his clan willingly, there was no reason to avoid that practice. <This one...weak, broken. Would you've nursed him back to health, Fett? In the middle of a war, raised the child into a warrior? Would you take on every poor, sickly, and destitute orphan in the galaxy? Turn our armies into an orphanage?>

Fenyang looked down at the paths ahead. The darker tunnel, the brighter turbolift. He waited for his brothers' words before speaking again. <We are the Children of Mandalore. Do you know what that means? Our Mandalorian brothers and sisters are our family. And for family, we must be ready to sacrifice anything. We are in hungry times, lean times. We, the fathers of Mandalore, must steal to provide for the rest of our children. >

<Mandalorians, you will sacrifice much under my rule. Not just your lives. Those are so easy for us to give. No, to save Mandalore, we must be ready to kill. We have neither the resources nor the manpower to waste on 'mercy' anymore. And in return for this small sacrifice, you will create the greatest Mandalore that the galaxy has ever seen.>

He frowned under his helm, reaching an unsatisfying conclusion to himself. If the Mandalorians were willing to be merciless, they had a chance at power. If they were able to make decisions that made them uneasy, make diplomatic choices for the good of their people, they would be ready to lead. But if they would continue to put their own honor ahead of Mandalore's redemption, their great crusade would be for nothing. He pointed a gloved finger down the dark tunnel. <If you can't trust in me, trust in your brothers. They'll steady your hand when it fumbles. You two, down the cave path. Report what you see. Remember my orders.> He moved himself to the Turbolift. A show of courage was needed - a chance for him to seem vulnerable amongst his peers. His group near-execution of the Rytt Alor had not convinced any of his valor.

Perhaps now would be a better chance. He slung his sniper rifle over his shoulder and pulled a Galeer-15 from a thigh holster. He pushed the button for the Turbolift to rise, and he heard it groan to life and begin its creep upstairs. He would soon see the face of these defilers.


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Drak Vúlfur

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Drak listened intently to what his Mand'alor had to say, he made good points as to why they shouldn't bring the prisoners under their care, and so, once he finished talking, the Mandalorian of clan Vúlfur simply nodded in response, acknowledging his orders, ruthless would be their tactics until the mine belonged to the true children of Mandalore once more, many would die to achieve that goal and Drak would pray to Kad Ha'rangir to grant him the insight to recognize potential future champions of Mandalore before killing them alongside the rest of the rabble, should there be any worthy of their time and effort.

Splitting in two groups seemed like both a reasonable idea and a way for Mandalore to prove that he could handle things himself, so Drak didn't oppose to it. <"Have a good hunt, Mand'alor."> Drak stated before he headed to the turbolift, gesturing to the Yautkan to move towards the other side before doing so himself. Flame projector in his hands, Drak didn't care that the cave was dark. The moment a fight broke out, his flames would show him the way and burn his enemies to a crisp. Drak just hoped this route didn't lead them to nothing but slaves, his fire had a better purpose when it ended the lives of worthy enemies, after all.


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Taz would stand and face the human as he explained his reasoning for saving some, and cull others. The Mand'alor's words fell flat. Not for lack of conviction, but rather, a lack of understanding. How were they both the children and the parents to the same people? Perhaps there was something lost in the translation.

At some point he simply repeated the other human's sentiment, <Good hunting, Brother.> Taz would then move toward the darkened tunnel. However as they got closer to the tunnel's opening, the Yautkan let the human go first. He would not be foolish enough to be between the Vulfur clansmen's flame projector and who ever else was in front of it. If he was to die this day it would not be by burning to death from friendly fire.

The hunter kept his spear hilt in hand, preferring to take a more stealthy approach if possible. Rather then unleash chaos. The two of them were few and even without the count of the slaves, the enemy were many.

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Spear and flame in hand, the pair would begin to stalk the dark tunnels of Concordia. The farther they walked, the more distant the din and chatter of the forges would become, replaced by the echoing sounds of water dripping as the trail spun round the expanse of the cave. As they walked, the pair would approach a glowing, orange source of light - an opening, chipped open into the floor of their path. From this small opening, they would be able to see and hear the bustle of the mines below them. Child laborers of many species worked in tandem with droid and machine, and if one strained themselves they could just see the blaster of an armed guard from the corner of their eye. If the pair wanted to see more, they would risk being seen themselves.

Were they to move forward from here, the cave path would suddenly slope down, steeply, forcing the two Mandalorians to slide down it. As it curved and twirled in the darkness, the slide would abruptly stop, dropping them into the center of a wide, dark room, unless they found a way to stop themselves.

When the pair got their bearings, they would see countless nooks carved out of the stone walls of the cave. They could hear the chorus of snores, a deep slumber having taken hold of the room. They could smell unwashed fur and sweat, the stink so potent that it could only have one cause. Wookiees. There were 9 of them in this room, as far as they could tell, slumbering next to heavy arms and armors. They would have to be quiet to avoid waking them. Or, they could...take a more direct approach.

Fenyang, meanwhile, waited for the turbo lift to rise. From the bottom of the mine, he could hear it - slowly shaking, cracking, and roaring to life. It was an industrial lift, slow and potent; surely the aruetti downstairs would hear it. He looked once more to the corpse of the boy he murdered. Whoever was here would likely think that he was just that boy, returning after successfully completing his task.

He heard a low snarl as the turbo lift continued to rise. Meanwhile, the Mandalore took cover, sweeping into the small dark crevasse that Taz and Drak. He readied his blaster carbine, peeking out the barrel to face whoever would soon rise. Two voices, the Mando heard, as the lift rose. Two. Two he could handle.


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Taz Fett

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Taz would fall in step with Drak. Allowing the human to lead for the moment as they continued. As they walked deeper, the noise of the facility quickly fell away. The sounds of the dripping water and soft echos were far more pleasing on the ears then that of hammering metal on metal. While he respected the craftsmanship men, Taz's path would not be the way of the Beskar.

Soon a glow would draw his attention. Peering into the opening the Yautken took notice of the children first. The order of Mand'alor were to leave no one alive to could not serve. Taz thought on this a moment as he reached for a grenade. As it would have been so easy. But the Fett Vod still could not bring himself to do it. Not yet.

Instead they would continue to move down the mine's tunnel. Taz suddenly leading now, and perhaps more distracted by the thought of killing unarmed children. Because he didn't stop short or even notice the sudden slope. Suddenly he would be shooting down the twist and turns of the shaft until he was in free fall. The Yautken tried to recover in mid air, but landed hard on his shoulder instead. Tumbling to his hands and knees. The spear in his hand, skidding away.

Taz looked up from the center of the cave, and activated the vision mode on his helmet. Suddenly his vision was filled with the warm white glows of large figures suddenly taking shape. *Fuck*, he cursed in Yautkanian. A skilled Wookiee could be a formidable challenge, but a squad of them could be a quick death. Thankful the walking carpets alone turned and tossed at the sound of his weapon hitting the ground. Taz would reach of the Python at his hip as he started to look for spear hilt.

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Drak Vúlfur

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Drak stared at Taz after the glow reach their attention, noticing the children and the armed guards as well...The Yautkan had objected to taking the lifes of innocent workers before, while Drak understood the reasoning behind it, it was the Mandalore's decree that they had to send them to the afterlife, however... "<This encounter is not worth dropping the surprise factor, we'll come back after dealing with what's deeper inside>" ...He would give the warrior of clan Fett some time to wrap his head around the idea, his resolve was still wavering, Taz had to draw blood from something more worthy first beforehand, and so Drak would give him some time to do so.

Walking closely behind Taz, Drak would fall down as well, positioning himself a bit better if only because he had a bit of time to react to Taz going down. the Vúlfur Mandalorian would land on his legs, feet wide apart as he put his hand on the ground to support himself better, grabbing the flame projector with the other one. He had landed better than Taz, feeling just a bit of a strain on his legs, but he was otherwise all right.

That being said, he was carrying heavy armor and so, when Drak landed, a heavy thud resounded throughout that part of the cave. This, combined with the own sound Taz made, would actually wake up two of the wookiees, slowly incorporating themselves as they let out a growl, not understanding what was going on yet but making sure to wake up the rest.

After hearing the growls of a species he knew about, Drak turned his head towards Taz as he cursed in a foreign language
"<Ready yourself, we fight now.>" Nothing else would Taz receive as a warning besides Drak making sure he wasn't in the line of sight before letting out a torrent of flame from his weapon of choice. The flames engulfing four of the wookiees that didn't sleep too far away from each other. A fire now illuminating the room, their flesh burning and their soft parts melting off as they left out excruciating howls of pain, the other wookiees getting up in response, clearly distressed by this and ready to kill the two mandalorians that threatened their lifes. Drak was ready to make more of them scream, he just hoped his partner was as ready as he was.

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The Wookies sprung to action as they were attacked. Feral roars emitted from their jaws, they leapt to face their foes. One immediately spring for his bowcaster from his carved-out top bunk in the cave. He flipped over, kneeling, to fire a shot from it at Drak's flame projector, hoping to ignite the Mando in his own wretched flames.

Another two, meanwhile, swung for Taz Fett. Unarmed but still brutal, they surrounded him, one going for his legs from behind while another swung a fist at his face. They were giants, their fur matted, dirty, and covered in blood; overall, they had a rather vulgar look to them. These were hardly the noble and gentle warriors of Kashyyyk - no, these were something far more wicked. An inversion of their beautiful spirit. A glimpse of what quiet strength becomes when turned to crude power.

The Mand'Alor had a fight on his hands, as well. As the Wookiee duo appeared at the top of the lift, Mand'alor fired his carbine. Despite its stopping power, it couldn't put the Wookiee down, who retaliated against the surprise attack at the cave. Mand'alor sprung from the cave into the clearing once more as a bowcaster blast hit the small entrance of the path Dark and Taz walked down.

The cave shuddered and rumbled, and rubble exploded to the close the path behind him. Mand'Alor couldn't join the group if he tried. Now, just to finish the two other Wookiees. It would be difficult.


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Drak's weapon puked fire to engulf the wookiees, the sudden burst filling Taz's t-visor with bright while light from the heat. Blinding the Fett warrior for a split second. Forcing the human to switch off the vision mode. But, as his eyes re-focused he took notice of movement.

Seeing the furry shooter, Taz quick drew the heavy blaster from his hip. Fired. The bold grazing just off the supporting shoulder of the Wookiee. Then before he could adjust and take another shot, a fist the size of his head was about to connect.

Slightly shorter then the walking pelts, Taz easily ducked the the blow just before being hit by the speeder that was the other alien hitting him from behind. As both man and beast hit the rock floor, the armored human managed to side on his right side, his left exposed. He cocked his arm back to put the barrel of the Python at the Wookiee's head, and fired again. Blasting a beer bottle sized hole from the top of the fur man's head and out his jaw. Killing the Wookiee instantly, but trapping the mando under the beast a moment.

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And so, the Wookie hit his target, there were many parts of Drak's flamethrower that he could have hit which wouldn't have had made the flame projector explode...Unfortunately, the Wookie hit the canister with pre-mixed fuel and oxidizer, and so, a column of fire erupted, engulfing the Mandalorian in flames, the floor on fire and smoke rising, a situation that would have meant death to most warriors.

...However, before the Wookiee could aim at Taz and finish the fight as he was stuck under a big corpse, a blaster bolt hit him in the arm, forcing him to drop his weapon. And out of the smoke and fire came out a Mandalorian: beskar still pristine save for the paint job, turning black as it was the original color of it's armor, fuel on fire still covering him slightly as the flames died out, his thermal undersuit rendered useless now, but it had saved him from dying right there and then.

On his hand was his trusty blaster pistol, not as powerful as the flame projector, but it would suffice "You fool." Drak said in common, his tone of voice being one of anger, this wookiee had dared to break his favorite weapon, his favorite tool...and so he would pay dearly for it "I'm the fire of the forge, the flames will not kill me...But they'll consume your bodies after I turn them into a funeral pyre!" Five more shots would hit that wookiee after that, all of them aimed at the torso as he made darn sure the resilient furball died.

After that, another one charged at him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling it away before Drak could shoot at him as well. However, for this wookiee he grabbed his beskad with the other hand and stabbed him in the side of the body, the Wookiee let out a pained growl before punching Drak in the head, making him let go of the sword still embedded in him and then trying to end him by biting at his neck...But the Mandalorian warrior instead shoved his fist into the creature's mouth, flames erupting from his wrist as he burned the wookiee from the inside before he could bite his hand off.

After that gruesome display of violence, Drak pulled his beskad away once more before taking a look at the remaining wookiees...Just two left.


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The remaining two Wookies...surrenedered. Caught completely off guard, and unprepared for such tremendous violence in the first place, they were unwilling to die for whatever strange cause they found themselves in. Each of them roared in their language, as they raised their hands up and got to their knees to indicate they were no threat. Perhaps the opportunity that Drak had spoken of earlier had just arrived - perhaps there would be two new Mandalorian foundlings who left Concordia today.

Regardless, the pair was free to handle the Wookiees however they felt and move on to the larger chamber. From their vantage point, in the barracks room, they could not see hear or see the active forge. But should they follow the winding path out of the makeshift barracks, they would open themselves to a truly massive cavern, where they could feel the heat of the forge on their face.

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It was massive. Bigger than they had prepared for. Repulsorlifts and elevators shot to even deeper caverns within the planet's core, while massive foundries and machines churned out arms by the boatload. It was mostly manned by weak-looking laborers and droids, while Wookiee security patrolled.

Fenyang, on the other hand, was still upstairs. Both Wookiees still stood, forcing Fenyang to improvise. He fired a shot at the gate winch for the repulsorlift's door, and the emergency shutter slammed shut on a Wookiee's arm, slicing it clean off and keeping him from the battle. The other Wookiee, still startled, fired a bowcaster blast at Fenyang, who narrowly avoided taking the brunt of the shot. Still, even a glancing blow from a bowcaster was painful. The fight raged on.


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Taz Fett

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Taz would slowly pull himself free of the Wookiee's body. The lifeless hairy corps proved to be difficult. As the shag fur seemed to tangle with the Fett warrior's iron skin.

To the human's fortune, the other Mandalorian was making quick and rather gruesome work of the others. By the time Taz managed to free himself, there were but two giants remaining. To the warrior's surprise they would kneel and surrender to the him and his companion.

Sizing the opportunity, Taz would quickly recover the weapon he had dropped on the way down. Rifle now in hand, he turned on the two remaining Wookiees. Where he might have had trouble putting down child slaves, he had no mercy left for these two. Taking aim with the Wolverine, he would execute the two. One after other in the head for a quick death.

Giving Drak a nod. Taz then turned to find the way out. The further he went, the hotter it seemed to get. Soon the path would open just above their perceived objective. The main facility was massive, like nothing Taz had ever seen except perhaps a ship yard.

<There> He said toward Drak. Pointing at a pair of Wookiees on the catwalk just above one of the assembly lines. <There are two more over there> Pointing his time two a patrol walking the edge just below their vantage point. <We need a plan.>

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Drak Vúlfur

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There were many things those two Wookies could have done to earn the Mandalorian's mercy, surrendering so fast without trying to put a worthy fight was not one of them. Drak simply nodded at the other Mandalorian after they were executed and followed along, for such big, usually proud creatures, those two were cowards, perhaps the worthy ones were killed among the first ones...A shame.

Even without a working thermal undersuit, Drak felt comfortable as things got hotter and hotter, the glowing heat bringing a smile under his face as he admired the beauty of the facility left behind by their ancestors. Truth is Drak could not wait to get to work, so many weapons and armor could be created in here for their brothers and sisters, providing in times of war such as these...But first they had to deal with everyone in there.

Drak stared as Taz pointed at the different patrols, they had the surprise factor going for them once more, however, chances are reinforcements would come in here eventually, it wasn't the four wookies what made Drak wary, but rather what would come after they were dealt with...But he had a plan.

<"We attack as usual...But we shall rally the laborers as well."> Drak said, pointing at the many workers, people that were obviously not happy, there was a reason there was a need for so many Wookiee guards after all <"The people that we have also been ordered to kill will take the brunt of the attack, thinking we have come to free them from their masters."> There were many more laborers that there were Wookiees, if they rallied them the furballs wouldn't even have enough bolts to kill them all...Until they start using their bare hands, at least.

<"...More importantly, we shall have a chance to identify wolves among the sheep. If there's anyone worthy of becoming a Mandalorian, we may find them among the survivors that fight alongside us.>" Drak turned his heard towards the man of clan Fett, knowing that these tactics could be dishonorable in his eyes <"...If you want to have a chance to at least spare one of them, this is the way.">



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