Hadrian Augustus

The spiteful strength of this Mandalore drove him in a flurry of admiration. She was so young but already had brought together more warbands and clans then he ever had. It filled his heart with joy to see this Mandalore and as he approached he knucked his grey helmet and inclined his head. His warband of four hundred men and women knelt behind him, their standard of a red lion on black tartar lowered in honour, every Clan Augustus’s soldier had both arms clasped over their chests. “House Augustus pledges its loyalty to you Mandalore.” It was not an easy thing for this prideful man to say. For his heart yearned to find the Arasuum leader of the pitiful farmers and rip his heart still beating from his chest in revenge for all that he had done to neuter his own people. But that would come later, and the Augustines would fight for her. Hundreds of generations of Mandalorians flipped sides with his standard. And they would now be damned forever under the eyes of the Arasuum, but not a single of the four hundred cared, for there were tears of joy in their eyes.

The blaster rifle bucked in his gloved hands as he pumped off a half dozen rounds into a protector who rounded the corner, her chest piece absorbed the first two rounds but the following four bored through the jumpsuit that covered the openings in her armour cooking her internal organs in the fiery heat of spun tibanna gas and energy. She collapsed with a gasp and died twitching in the dirt roadway. A brown sticky mix of burned blood and organs seeped out her and spread in a tacky pool around her white armoured form. Hadrian winced as a turret bolt reflected off his shoulder and spun him to the ground beside the dead woman. Crawling, he retrieved two thermal detonators, triggered them to 3 second discharge and tossed them in two second intervals at the turret. The first one missed, going off in a white static discharge but the second found its mark evaporating the turret in a beautiful pure white explosion. He stumbled to his feet as the protectors ran back around the next corner. They were almost to their ships. He extended a slightly shaking hand to Cythera and helped her to her feet. He held out the last thermal detonator he had scavenged and tossed it around the corner He heard it go off and a scream of someone, hopefully not a civilian, that had lost their lower extremities in the blast. He retrieved his last grenade from his belt, a G20 Glop and tossed it. He winked at the girl beside him and rushed around the corner.

Hadrian dropped into a crouch as blaster fire started tracing their position, he fired two rounds of blue energy through a female protector's visor and chest armour and knocked her lifeless corpse into a stack of crates that fell with a crash. He traced his blaster rifle to the nearly destroyed LAV and put a few rounds through its fuel tank, the resulting explosion knocked him a dozen feet into a parked landspeeder and he could hear nothing but painful ringing in his ears. He coughed hollowly and retrieved his pistol from its backup holster on his left thigh. Pain ran through his back and it brought him fully into the battle. The protectors had mostly recovered from the shock of the explosion and were busy feeding blaster fire his and Cythera's way. Little bits of permacrete were still raining down on top of Hadrian's helmet as he began to return fire. The LAV was down but there were still about five protectors left, and there was still a very long distance to go before they reached their ships. It wouldn't be easy, but these were men and women used to peace. And that was their disadvantage.

Hadrian cursed roughly as he ducked below the blaster bolt, smiling her strode up carrying the extra set of armour he pulled off the dead Protector. “No Cythera, I am trying to avoid getting you killed. Though I must say it is good to see your face again.” He whispered as they crouched beside the wall of the towering industrial complex. He gestured to a small thin wire stretched across the pathway they would have run straight into. “Some kind of tripwire I think. If you notice the suspicious lack of civvies in this area, I would say we are due for a quick shootout if you are ready to take some of these Mando Cabure to the dirt where they belong.” He spat out the title of the protectors like it sickened him. Mandalorians weren’t some kindly police force, they were made to conquer, not serve. He quickly put the dead man’s armour on himself and withdrew his blaster again. In the distance, a Chariot LAV and five protectors were covering the entrance to the spaceport. He cursed again “Bic ni skana'din!” He leveled the blaster at the gunner of the LAV and let loose a blue bolt that burned through the women's visor and splattered her memories on the back of the her helmet. He laughed and the fight was on.

A Comm message arrive for the hunter Terra.

A red fiery blaster bolt caught a Journeyman Protector under the chin of his buy’ce and dropped the man as he pursued Cythera. The man gurgled out his lifeblood as Hadrian took his place stalking after the running ex member of his old faction. Hadrian shouldered his E-11 and fired three more rounds into the back of another protectors neckplate. Eating away at the thin metal and blowing through his windpipe in a gorging white hot blast. He dropped, his red and white armour crashing into the blood stained dust with a loud clatter. Hadrian picked up his pace as he dodged through the mass of screaming and running civvies as he paced his running friend. They were headed towards her ship, where he had parked his own ship, The Elysium's Guard beside. When they rounded the corner he called out with his helmet projected voice, “Hey wait up Clan Pantheon, don’t want to trip up in the trap they left for you in the spaceport.” He held up his hand in greeting should she see him. He wore a familiar grin, and was busy stripping a dead protector of his arms and armour. It had been several years since they had been in the rebellion together. Perhaps she would recognize him, perhaps not. He wouldn't blame her if she chose to ignore him. His actions had caused them all a lot of grief.

Hadrian accepted the note with a degree of apprehension. It had been a long time since he had seen his mentor Vihk, though it brought him a degree of happiness to see him well and in his own shop, there was melancholy as well. No Mando, especially a once venerated Mand'alor, should see his dwindling days slaving away in a shop. Hadrian knew that the man should have preferred a honourable death, instead of this. But Hadrian knew he could not change the man. He was a tragic figure, and Hadrian thought that perhaps he would live to fight once again. To die as any once Al'Ori'Ramikade should, blasters firing until the iron armour cracked and lifeblood was spilled on the remains of piles of enemies. Hadrian resisted the desire to spit on the floor at the man's feet, shameful. But he could not hold all mandalorians to his own creed. Instead he let a grin fall across his face. He himself had learned to embrace dar'manda. "I would love a new suit of beskar'gam, as mine was taken from me from he who calls himself Mand'alor. I will be on Serreno, if you wish to deliver it, or to return from your self imposed exile. I will seek this lady out, and see if she wishes to join us in the Kyr'tsad." He lingered for a moment touching the mantle of the door on his way out.

Hadrian strolled into the Ahzinger Armor shoppe, dressed in a grey plain tunic with his clan sigil emblazoned on his chest. He smiled as he ran his hand over some of the old armour displayed in the shop before looking at the shopkeeper. His voice was gruff and low as he asked, "Is Mand'alor here?"

Hadrian sighed long and deep, running his fingers through his graying hair. His thoughts were grim as he strode through the halls, Vihk and the clan leaders at his sides. There was a brawl in this house, and he would not let it scatter to the winds of anger. This dark presence had come here to do battle, but why? Hadrian came within sight of the Dark Lord and sat upon a weather beaten chair, beaten and stained by the salt from the roaring sea. Hadrian's brown robes whisking about his shins in the ocean's stiff breeze. He adjusted his armour and pulled off his helm. He gestured to one of the guards who brought him an old model bolt action rifle. He smiled and leveled it at the duel. His words were bitter sweet. "If he kills her we strike. If not, then we speak in earnest. There are many things we must arrange, and a death of my clan sister is not one of them!"

“Of course I remember the wrath of the house Allard, you are welcome at my side, with me you shall bring glory to your house. Land and realms shall belong to you, faithful friends and allies. Rise friends, and feast. For there is much that we need to discuss.” Hadrian and his faithful friends took seat at the table as his knights ushered an old face into the room. VIHK entered the halls, as he was bid and allowed. One of the bannermen was dispatched to find truth to the rumours of other clanless mandalorians returning to Mandalore. Hadrian stood as Vihk entered the hall of the house of Greyjoy. “Welcome friend, are you here to partake in our war?” (Sorry for the shortness of this post, traveling sucks)

He who was named Mandalore, Hadrian of the House Augustus, lord and master over realms valiant. Defender of: the Iron Islands, of fallen Castamere and Harrenhal, and the cities and houses sworn loyal to the House of Augustus. Their rightful leader, Mandalore, the one sworn to lead his bannermen to victory in the great expanse of space. To lay low the stubborn Galactic Alliance, and once again cause the galaxy to fear the might of the Deathwatch. Hadrian stood, and walking to the door, bid forth his knights and bannersmen, for the lords of Pyke had called for his attendance. They were an elder clan, much feared in the far western lands for their barbaric practices, but theirs were the customs of the ancient mandalorians, that once crusaded into the starry veil. There was much in Pyke that Hadrian would learn from. He walked the length of the hall and gazed to the helmets of his sworn men. Their black visors giving no expression of doubt in his new leadership. The men and women of house Karstark in their deep black armour, adorned in pearl and white trim. From them he selected a strong fierce knight, Ser Rayn, called ‘The Dark’ for his dour expression and sour mood. Neither which were matched with his skill with a rifle or his skill with the great axe that was slung across his black armour. From house Sirben he chose Lord Gregory’s Son, Nathan, whom was large in stature and fair skinned, he carried with him two pistols and a two handed sword. These two Rayn and Nathan, he kept in his personal guard, But took with him also bannersmen and soldiers from every house that had sworn its loyalty. They departed for dreaded Pyke in a large convoy. The bannersmen, and Hadrian himself in the van of his forces. When they entered the hall of the Greyjoys, the silence was instant and dank. Their halls were old and the air itself tasted of the sea. The Herald shouted, “Lord high Mandalore Hadrian of the house of Augustus, and his honoured men!”

The Mandalorians had been shattered ever since the old ruler, ShadowFett had dispersed the clans. A once proud and robust people left to ruin by a man who simply did not have the time or will to properly govern the great clans of Mandalorians. And as such, had been replaced in a bloodless coup, and Hadrian of the clan Augustus had taken his place. In the process of several months, the clans had been re unified under Augustus, and he had begun the process of preparing Mandalore for WAR. He built their structure much as he could remember from the days of youth and lore. A triangular approach, two lieutenants beneath him, Calvin and Blackwraith, then two sergeants below them. It would look altogether military In appearance. Crusaders they would be, mighty as their ancestors in Reven's time. Preferably this crusade would not end with the complete and utter end of the Mandalorian fleets, but even then, the last crusades had taught the galaxy to fear the wrath of the crusaders. The sacking of Cathar and Serreno were even talked about to this day...five thousand years afterwards. So, it was his destiny to show the Mandalorians weren't a weak people as they were under the incompetent ShadowFett. The few buildings destroyed by the Black Sun Expeditionary force were quickly rebuilt, the fighters and heavy ships were assembled, and the defensive satellites reactivated. The Mandalorian homeworld was firmly under Hadrian's control. Completely unopposed, the Death Watch ideal had taken over Mandalore. Whatever Mandalorians followed the old and deposed Mandalore were now to be shunned and exiled. It was time for the Crusades to begin anew.

The trip to the capitol was a short one. Hadrian and the rest of his clan were closed followed by Cythrea and Calvin's clans. They were not here for war however, they were here to collect recruits for their cause, citizen soldiers, and awaken them to the coming crusades. Hadrian stood before a gathering of the clans and spoke in high mandoa. "Mandalorians have fallen from their once high grace, we have remained trapped on this world, serving the wishes of others, I tell you this, We must rise again!" A few scattered claps and shouts. "We suffered under the wrath of too many for too long! A new crusade will begin in short, come forward clans that call themselves warriors! We have a mighty task before us! Let the war chants come forth again, and light the fires of forges long dark, for we soon march to !" Hadrian drew his sword as the shouts and chants began to fill meeting place. Mandalorians had been awakened. And there would be no end to their ire. "I Hadrian of Clan Augustus, Declare as unopposed Mand'alor of these clans, the amnesty of the exiles, and the return of our mighty empire!" The applause was akin to thunder.

Hadrian smiled and nodded to the leader of the great clan of Ironborn. "We have a task for you, there is a bounty currently placed upon senatorial heads of state. As Calvin and I begin work upon solidifying our holdings here, travel to the planet Coruscant, and meet our brother Hallas there. He will know more. Be wary, for we are still a secret movement, do not spill our identities." He turned to Calvin next. "Good friend, will you come with me to the Capitol? WE have work to do...." He smiled at the lady Cythera.

Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum ner Sarah For I am still alive, and thou art gone. I shalt remember thee, so thou art eternal my Sarah. Hadrian smiled and nodded his greeting as he shook her hand, "It is always a pleasure to meet one of Clan Pantheon." For great they had been in the ancient days, and so they would be again. The weapons were spectacular, wondrous bits of technology, perfect for her stature and hands. If only they could grasp weapons in death. He smiled briefly and dug into his belt. He withdrew a large denomination credit chip and placed it into her hands. "This should cover the weapons and armour with a bit to spare Cythera. Vor entye" Then there were shouts of rage and malice at the doors, and Hadrian knew that some had answered the call. The call for justice, for a new ruler free of ties to an outside authority. So it would be, or nightfall would claim them all. And the immortal lands would bow to agony. The clans would unite against the foul king, and he would be cast down, his blood would flow into the Rubicon. And how swift his throne would be torn asunder. Such was the path of Mand'alore. And now, He Hadrian of the Clan Augustus. Would lead a scattered group to oppose the most wretched of enemies. Their brothers and sisters. They would rise in a war of independence. And they would be forsaken by many. Kyr'tsad they would become. The forsaken. He opened the door of the shop, with Calvin and Cythera at his back, and faced the mass of the Iron Borne. He raised his hand in greeting. "Hail and well met men and women of the Iron Islands. Clan Greyjoy. You come declaring rebellion against the unseen king." He lowered his hands, and placed his right hand upon the pommel of the sword slung upon his side. He bid the rapist that they had brought the swift justice of the sword, for the man's head separated from his body with a gush of bright red blood. A crime punished with death. JUSTICE that had been abandoned long ago. "I ask you all here, representatives of Clans broken, without glory and honour that so many enjoy. Would you risk further death for glory and honour? Will you risk the chance to overthrow the unseen king? I tell you this. The sword rose into the air pointing towards the fading sun. Darkening blood dripping from the honed blade. Hadrian's voice rose in anger. "Here I will raise my standards and shall abandon peace and this desecrated law, fortune and death I will follow, from now on war is my judge. Until at last JUSTICE is brought to to wretched unseen king. Join me in this fight and we will restore the honour and glory of the old ways. We will venture to the stars of a thousand systems, and the galaxy will tremble in fear at the sound of our war horns." The splendour and madness of the Iron Born's roar would be written of for a thousand years.