saberforce

Kot'dral stood at the large war planning table in the main hall Dralaloriya. Kami stood next to him observing the holodisplay of the preparations taking place at the spaceport of Forard. Another, Atola stood opposite of them finishing up the report. "The Tyrant Adventure has now been loaded with the requested items from our Alor. Kage and Wuka are both preparing the armor for those less prepared. Without and beskar, the smiths have utilized a mix of duraplast, polyfibe and ciridium. Not the strongest, but I believe that the smiths are saving the Neuranium and Sarrassian for more special projects." Kot'dral lifted his hand to dismiss the audience and simultaneously looked over at Kami. "While you're slightly looped in with them, it's hard to teach these new tal'din the ways of being Mando." Kami did not have her own buy'ce on, so her expression was more obvious and open. With the eyes that widened and brows that lifted up, it gave a lot away. "Grurt has taken more time to learn the ways. Tros has been focused on his war and starting things fresh that my own time has been devoted to training decent warriors up,- Yes, I am aware that there is more to being a Mandalorian then being a warrior." Kot'dral looked her over, as he almost did jump in to say what she anticipated from him. He paused for about ten seconds before looking down at the holodisplay before them. "Strength is life. It's apart of our creed here in House Solus. You are doing your part. And you've been with us for a while now. You have honor in fulfilling your current task of training the Huntsmen. Honor is life." Taking a moment to fix his kama, as he was now enforcing all of the Zealots to wear, Kami put her buy'ce back on. "Loyalty is life Kot'dral. You are the most loyal person I know, especially when it comes to Alor. You and your zealots will always fulfill your missions." She gave a slight nod and then turned and walked out of the room, leaving Kot'dral to his thoughts. He looked at the holodisplay, taking a mental picture to lock it within his own mind before turning it off. Gron Lerr walked in and stood within the doorframe to the main audience hall. "They're ready for you." Kot'dral let out a long heavy breath before walking towards the door to speak to his zealots. As he walked in, there before him stood fourteen others, Gron included. All of them with beskar'gam similar to his in design alone. All with kama's and all with the t-shape visors on their buy'ces cut off in some fashion before the base. He looked them over longer than what he was expecting, as he wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't one to normally give words. But somehow, the situation required it. "We're being tasked with a special assignment from Alor, Tros. House Solus stakes are big. When we get to the battlefield, it's expected to have us over Nal Hutta. Our objective is to get to the surface of Nar Shaddaa at all costs. We've been tasked with a prize to bring back. Let me make this clear, as Zealots for House Solus, we do not fail. Death or victory are the only options we have. We are zealots, Jatnese be te jatnese. We will not fail House Solus. The galaxy will know of House Solus after this battle. And while we bring the fear of Mandalorians back to the galaxy, they will also learn something else... Ke nu'jurkadir sha Zealots!" As he finished, all fourteen Zealot's lifted a vibrodager into the air in agreement. It was something else that marked zealots apart. We all know our weapons and how to use them. Alor : Leader tal'din : Bloodline Mando : Mandalorian (noun) buy'ce : Helmet beskar'gam ; Mandalorian armor Jatnese be te jatnese : The best of the best Ke nu'jurkadir sha : Don't mess with

Tros stood within the main hold of Swift Justice looking at a few others gathered at the holoconfrence with him. Avao Skol, Kami Larkin and Kot’dral Duvul all stood and listened to the general report from Naboo. Tros finished up his own final thoughts to them before opening up the table for discussion. “In short, we need to be prepared for a ori’osik amount of resistance. I’m also going to put credits that Terra will be in the opposition. She’s been spotted working with these people over and over again. We’re going to need a few other things to make a good showing at Nar Shaddaa.” He tilted his head towards Kot’dral to see how he was doing. Kami broke the small gap. “Formation wise, Clan Larkin would better serve the overall purpose either through ground assault and ship boarding. But I have a feeling that the majority of them are going to attempt to flee. They won’t stay if mass destruction becomes imminent. And if they catch word or a hint that the strike is coming, they’ll evacuate the civilians along with attempting to control the battlefield. Nal Hutta may be the place where they dictate terms…” Behind his buy’ce, Tros let out a sigh. Ship to ship fighting wouldn’t be ideal in any sense if they wished to make a hard hit. Avao cut through finally. “With the huntsman of Clan Larkin, Clan Vuuku will provide our supercommandos to be deployed in any way you see fit Alor. I’m going to keep our weaponsmiths behind to finish up production… speaking of which…” Avao pulled up a schematic for everyone to see. “We have finished at Qat Chrystac with the production of 36 Fang Fighters that can be deployed. They will be a shock to see, as many in the battlefield have not seen them before. If one of our allied ships can bring them, we can man and deploy them. I will also send with them a new batch of Westar Assault Rifles we just finished crafting. They’ll be a new weapon of choice that could give any jetiise fits. But the main reason why I’m holding our smiths back is this…” A new diagram came to life. When Avao spoke, she held a pride and joy within her voice. “ I present to you, the Keldabe-class Battleship. The main outline and fitting has begun on this bad boy. It won’t be ready for any form of deployment for another 6 weeks, longer if I have to keep surrendering personnel to other avenues, but I feel like this will be something you’ll enjoy surprising people with Alor…” Tros knew that his own eyes held the excitement of seeing such a thing, and he wanted his fellow vod to share in his own excitement, so he took off his buy’ce for everyone to see his face. “That is a thing of beauty Avao. Keep working on it. When it’s ready, I want to give it a test run.” Setting his buy’ce aside, he looked now directly at Kot’dral. “I want all of Clan Ardell summoned. Zealots and Pathfinders alike. This is a House Solus objective, and I want the galaxy to know that when it involves House Solus, they get everyone. I’ll be sending everyone the rendezvous point shortly. I just need to connect with a final piece before I lock everything into place. Be ready to move at my word. Dismissed.” As the transmission was cut by Tros, Sutu appeared in the main frame that led to the cockpit. “We’ve cleared any disastrous zones from Theed… awaiting orders.” He looked for a moment at his own buy’ce and then picked it up and placed it under his arm. “Blow it and signal Raven’s Bane. We have request to make of them…” ori’osik : Big shit Buy'ce : Helmet Alor : Leader Jetiise : Jedi (Plural)

Tros kept a close eye on the apprentice upon hearing that the feat would solely be up to him. He wondered what sort of warriors put such feats on weapons. For his own kin, such a task being ushered to someone would mark the final element before them being ready for war and to be on their own. So the Sith, while very mysterious and tied to the Force, were not so much off from what he was brought up, with a few more extremes. But are they too dependent upon the Force? It was a question he always wondered about those connected to the Force, including his own step-sister. It was a foolish question to sit and ponder, as he was a warrior and truly cared not to devote too much time to thinking upon it. But then again, his own code for those under House Solus followed a creed, to die as one lived. If they were so bound to the Force, they would die by it. His buy'ce suddenly beeped at him, a strong signal from Almas. The war council was ready to connect. He gave a quick response back that he would be ready to talk within an hour and then gave a slight nod to Akheron. "Unfortunately this is where my observations must end. War planning is needed. Hopefully we can fight alongside each other on the battlefield soon." The Mandalorian gave another half bow before turning and heading back to the Palace at Theed. He was grateful for the opportunity to learn from the Sith, and hopefully the partnership between them lasted long enough for both to share secrets to build each other up stronger. For only the strong have the right to rule. Upon arriving back at Theed, he quickly gathered the remaining of those still hanging around the planet. Sutu Skoss stood giving a report to him. "There have been a total of 19 children that have been loaded upon The Trident and taken back to Almas for processing. Bloodlust and Swift Justice are ready for departure upon your word." Tros let out a sigh and looked towards the sky. "Get us in the air. We need a signal to talk to the War Council on Almas. Once we finish with them, we can decide where we're headed." "Upon boarding, we're good to lift. But there is the matter of the explosives..." Tros looked directly at Sutu. "... They're still active and around the palace of Theed..." Tros looked back at the palace for a second and then began to walk towards his own ship, Swift Justice, speaking rather loudly as he walked. "Once we hit a good range, blow it."

Tros listened to Akheron carefully. The words spoken to him seemed somewhat distant and untouched by the physical world, yet everything was tied to it. His own face was hidden by his buy'ce, but he was sure that the Sith could read him anyways. His own experience with them told him that such things happened rather frequently. He remained quiet before he spoke. "You say a beast to be tamed. Is it literal or metaphorical?" He truly didn't understand the Force, nor did he had any true desire to learn of it's deep mysteries. He was okay with his own beliefs, which had slowly changed and evolved over time. He doubted any others of his kin shared similar thoughts. His own eyes darted towards Solus as he returned.

Tros listened carefully to the words being spoken from both Sith. There was something about this Akheron that had him intrigued. But whatever it was, it was not forward and obvious even to him. Letting out a sigh to himself, he looked at the apprentice called Shard and then back at Akheron. "I think it would be worth my time to see such a thing." He placed his beskad back within it's sheath. Perhaps the connection lay within the last time he was somewhat close to a Force user. Either way, he felt like time would tell. And until then, he had to get to know the Sith well enough to begin a better ground work for working with them, and even utilizing them within battle scheme and plans. Seeing something that they do away from outsiders would be a perfect start for that.

Tros offered up a nod in the direction of Akheron. "Akheron, I do believe that this is fully acceptable to me. A gift for a gift." Indeed the exchange of what both offered to each other was worth the small distraction and break within the grand scheme of battle planning. Standing up now to fully prepare for this exchange of gifts, he called up his comms within his buy'ce and connected with Sutu. "Sutu, belay the holoconfrence with the clan leaders. Instead have them rally and assemble. We will need them as we head to war." After he sent the message, he picked up his beskad and looked at Akheron's apprentice for a slight moment before responding to both. "It shows me that you are indeed strong and willing to do what it takes. But skillswise, it does not show what you may think it does. The heat of battle is far different from training. Even as I prepare to learn melee, it will not show you anything other then potential. Skill can be lost if the mind is not strong enough for the onslaught that is presented before." Tros slowly tilted his head to his left. "But do not think that my words are to put you down. Training is something that is a worthy cause and well worth the effort put into it. And today within your training match that you had indeed showed skill. I hope that when the heat of battle is upon you that such skills become stronger and more refined." He now looked at Akheron. "I am ready to begin such training upon your word." Buy'ce : Helmet Beskad : Sword

Tros offered up a smile, which was a lost gesture as he already had put his buy'ce back on. He turned his head ever so slightly to see the one who called himself Shard/Solus. The duel or sparring match seemed rather irrelevant to him, up until he let his hand drop and feel the baskad at his side. He had never had any formal training with such melee weapons. If he was to engage with someone who did, he would lose whatever advantages he normally carried into battle. Maybe this Akheron could indeed be a benefit to this. He then turned his head to look at Akheron. "I guess there is a lot I could learn, especially when it comes to melee combat." Tros took his beskad out of the sheath and displayed it before the Sith. "I was recently gifted this by a fallen mentor. I must admit, while I know what it is, I have no idea on how to use it, outside of my natural instincts of course." He then placed the blade on the table. "If you are willing to teach me, I shall teach you what you think you could gain from me and the Mandalorian ways." Beskad : Mandalorian sword Buy'ce : Helmet

Tros watched slowly as most of those who gathered around him now slowly faded off into whatever seemed to please them. His own eyes watched from the corner for a moment longer on the one called Shard. The veteran warrior wondered if he was worth marking for the future, but decided against it. Instead, he turned to focus on the sole person remaining before him, Akheron. Without giving any notice, he put his buy'ce back on. "So, what do you guys do around here to keep sharp?" Tros slowly let his own hand fumble down next to his blasters, letting his own finger run over the weapon as he wondered what sort of skill set he would need to have sharpened for this coming battle.

Tros observed for a moment Delta's own posture as he explained his ties to the old yet sturdy crime syndicate. Whether the ties he still had were strong or not, they would be useful to fill the needs of weapons on the front lines. But his own head turned towards Akheron as he spoke. His words rang a bit within his mind, as they were both true and heavily deceptive. Although there was no way that the Sith would understand why. His padawan, the Shard spoke in a way that echoed what his own master said. He took a second before he responded to them. "Terra will indeed be a problem. And you are right in saying that she will need to be drawn into something else to keep her busy and I think I already know how to do that. However, do not get over confident in the idea of battling the Rebellion, Jedi and Imperial Knights. This will not be like any other battle we have ventured onto. Cornering a wild animal and fighting it is one thing. Cornering a few wild animals within their own home and territory requires far more skill and tact. I suspect heavy losses on both sides." The Mandalorian turned towards Shard for a moment, but letting the words hang for everyone else. "There are also secondary objectives. A flat out massacre would be pointless. If we are to be pushed back even the slightest, having a few small victories would still be worth our time. You are all veterans of war... We will be a storm rolling in. To shut down or take things they are not expecting... and believe me, there are things to take from them."

Tros focused for a moment upon this Darth Akheron. He voiced quickly the support of Delta, to which he didn't think was necessary, yet he found it welcoming. His focus and pride upon being a warrior was something more along the lines of what he had always thought Sith would be. War hungry. It made the excitement of the upcoming battle seem even more pleasing knowing that such a Sith was both excited and eager to join in the fray without any questions. He went to respond, when the apprentice he assumed of this Akheron joined them, speaking up. The brief pause between the two is when he heard Oni once again utter Mando'a. He wondered what sort of life he must live to assume that others would blindy respect him, or that ignoring what others said, or ignoring them outright was something to be valued. Such actions always reaped negative results, much it did for Oni today. The sword of battle would find him sooner rather than later, he was sure. He did not have much time to dwell upon Oni, as the apprentice, or rather Shard spoke. His choice of words to him were rather hollow. But there was no way of it knowing such a thing. He decided to address this Shard first over Akheron. "There are a few things you should know moving forward. Everyone has a place in battle- or rather, everything. You will find yourself in combat more often than not. Pride yourself on the victories of what others praise you for, never your own praises. I will call you Shard for now, as you have much to learn and earn still. You're master has trained in combat, but such training is never over. I myself who has lived long enough and fought in many wars will still learn and train within combat. Earn your spot amongst me at Nar Shaddaa and I will be honored to call you Solus." Tros now turned towards Akheron and gave a very slight head bow to him. "From one warrior to another, I have great need for those eager to fight in this upcoming battle. I assume that you know war and a little bit of what to expect. You seem seasoned enough for me." Tros paused for a very slight second before he sat down, inviting for all those present to join him at the table. "Strategy is the name of the game heading in. I have no doubt that the Republic will be prepared for us. Nar Shaddaa is heavily populated and has a strong focus of civilians throughout the planet. They most likely will not want us engaging directly over the planet or even on it. Nal Hutta is so close, it may become the main battle ground. We can not let them dictate terms of this engagement." Another pause as he looked everyone in the eye. "Plus, they will most likely have Jedi there to help defend, along with Terra and her loyal followers.... This will be far from an easy battle."

There was no hesitation, no warning, no nothing but the pure quick action. Tros pulled his beskad out and within a flash lashed out at the Sith named Oni's face. The single goal, to leave a permanent mark and reminder that when he said he wouldn't allow something, he meant it. He had already told him that he wanted no such words uttered to him, as he had not earned that. Yet this one Sith, one whom had already pissed him off earlier of refusing to acknowledge him personally was now on the the wrong side of the Mandalorian again. But this time, he knew he had the permission to act, as the dark Lady had already said it outloud to him and everyone else. After making the strike, he put his beskad away and turned towards Delta. He didn't bother to address why he did it, or to even give the Oni anymore chances on the matter. To know that he was on thin ice with the Mandalorian was enough. If Oni didn't like it, the two could easily duke it out in a duel. He was lucky Tros didn't go for more, as he needed more bodies alive then dead for the strike at Nar Shaddaa. He focused in on Delta's eyes, responding directly to his words. "Assassination and commando tactics are two skills sets that are very useful within the main parameters of a strike at Nar Shaddaa. Yet, espionage is an even more deadlier skill set for the aftermath. Doubtful it'll be needed from the overall goal." He narrowed his eyes and looked past him at some of the gathering Sith. After a quick second, he looked back at Delta. "Do you still have any ties with Black Sun? Illegal weapons of sorts? Might be useful." Beskad : A Mandalorian saber

Tros openly squinted his eyes at the approach of the Sith whom the Mandalorian had given the finger to earlier now stood next to him, speaking the language of mando'a. His words tripped slightly over themselves, but mainly due an overreaching attempt to keep a bridge intact. He understood why the Sith would wish such a thing, but much like the other one, they simply maybe misunderstood the nature and stance he took. "Copaani mirshmure'cye? Perhaps a lesson first and foremost is needed. I do not call anyone vod- unless I know their name. I do not know either of your names. It is important to know the name of those who you will be working close with. Or would you rather I wear my buy'ce so that you can always distance yourselves from me?" Tros now let his buy'ce drop to the ground, making a rather loud bang as it hit. "I will not speak my native tongue to you, nor will I have it utter from anyone here until a mutual respect is earned." Without warning, he climbed upon a table and began to shout to the entire room. "My name is Tros Ardell, leader of House Solus. The only thing that matters to me is honor and going above and beyond on the battlefield. Give me your names, your talents and skills and I will forge a path as directed by the Dark Lady without any questions, hesitations or doubts of success." He looked around the room for a moment before climbing off the table. He picked his buy'ce back up and looked at both Sith still before him. "So, give me your name and your skills." Tros narrowed his eyes as he stared down the two Sith. The politics of the Sith had shown up early, and still lingered. He wanted to make sure that all Sith knew he was not about that. He was a warrior and one that would let the battlefield decide who deserved his respect or not. Who would gain honor amongst him and those whom he would rather shoot in the face. Copaani mirshmure'cye - "Are you looking for a smack in the face? vod - brother/friend Buy'ce - Helmet

Tros kept his movement, even while he heard footsteps behind him, clearly in attempt to catch up to him. He was hungry and there was nothing that was going to stop him from reaching his goal. He figured amongst the Sith, there was likely a high demand to see him after what the Dark Lady declared before them all. It was when he finally stopped in the hall to observe the food and entertainment is when the gangly looking Sith approached him. His opening words of "Master Mandalorian" took his off guard for a slightly moment, and had him turn to observe the black clothed creature leaning upon a walking stick and catching his breath from attempting to reach him first before any of the other Sith. Tros plainly looked at the Sith, still with his buy'ce under his right arm. Once he knew the Sith was finished, he pondered upon his words for a moment. He signaled for him to stand up and not to kneel before him. He turned and picked up some piece of food and ate it quickly before responding. "Antiquity isn't an expertise. Knowledge of antiquity is, and that serves no one except those who need to learn. And even then, do not lean upon such a thing as a cowardly act. You do not wish to fight and die- you are better of being plain with me in these terms. But I think I could easily push such a notion even further. If such knowledge of the antiquity you claim to be an expert with was threatened enough to perish, you would be a fool worthy of only death if you choose to stand by and let it perish. So the real problem you are presenting is you are unwilling to die over this cause." Tros lifted a finger as a way to hold the Sith for a moment. He then reached and grabbed a drink on a tray that was nearby, took a full swig of it to empty the glass, and then tossed it aside when he was done. "And your better arrangement comes at a high price. The terms of which I lead everyone into battle was left rather unclear. So let me clarify for you my expectations moving forward. Failure is always met with punishment. Those who lead from afar are expected to be best at changing and altering tactics to maintain an edge and keep clear and constant communication with those on the front. I judge the failings of those who lead from afar tenfold more than those who make mistakes in the midst of battle. The less risk to someone, the higher the standards upon which they will be judged by." Tros put his buy'ce down on a table to have both arms free as he was sure others would undoubtedly seek out conversation with him and bring up similar points. "You offer up distraction upon the battlefield, little more than that. If that is indeed your skill set, let it be known that as the plans begin to formulate, I will indeed put them to use. I will use every skill set available to me." Tros now leaned in closer to the Sith, to keep his words between the two. "You have the Force. I do not understand it, nor do I seek to posses it. But I have seen it do strange and powerful things. No matter who you are, death comes for us all. Death is life. One should die as they have lived. Do not expect to be killed like an ailing pet. Meet it head on when it comes." Tros now pulled himself away from the Sith. His eyes darted to find something else to eat, as whatever it was that he put in his mouth when he arrived tasted like kyr'am. Buy'ce - Helmet Kry'am - Death.

Whatever transpired between all of the Sith came to a halt with the Dark Lady speaking. Her words were something that he focused on, up until two very important details that came his way. Nar Shaddaa as the main target and Darth Mavanger. It was the first time he heard directly that the final assault was planned to be at the heart of the former Imperial Remnant. His mind didn’t focus on the other words she spoke afterwards, as the many ideas and strategies began to formulate on how to break down the once go to place to hide. His mind was quickly broken in the train of thought however. Tros eyed the one called Darth Mavanger. He had been addressed by multiple people, clearly as someone who made a name for himself. He understood a bit now of how important he may have been, as the Dark Lady had singled him out as someone that was not open to his command. His eyes looked over the man, his blue eyes were piercing, amplified by his dark black hair that covered the rest of his face. He wondered for a moment what sort of skills he possessed that would make him a target of others and a favorite of the Dark Lady. Wait- everyone besides him is under my command? The thought made him suddenly more aware of the rest of the room. He glanced around and began to take in who was present. Several of them caught his eyes and people he’d like to figure out their skill sets and how such skills could become a potential strength or weakness while attempting to take Nar Shaddaa from the Rebellion. As he finished his initial sweep of eyeing those that he most certainly wanted to talk to, he pulled out his comlink. “Sutu, finish up and have those on Almas prepare for a holoconfrence. We have much to discuss.” Finishing up, he put his comlink away without much discussion for Sutu. By the time the clan heads were ready on Almas for beginning battle plans, he would hopefully have time to scout out the Sith for who could be utilized best within the battle plans. Seeing as the offer from the Dark Lady was to move to the feast hall for a chance to eat and have some entertainment as they discovered skills. Figuring that's what the majority would do, he began to move that way to get some food, which would be satisfying even more so since he hasn’t eaten since leaving Almas. And battle always made him hungry.

Tros watched and observed the majority of what he would describe as a circus freak show take place for a moment. He cared not for the display before him, so much as he wanted to begin his part of the journey, as many eyes were now fully focused on him outside of this lone planet. He understood that the weight of his actions and decisions from here on out would hold great shifting within the Mandalorians. He kept his head focused on those of whom he thought were of great importance in the room, but no so much of their words. It wasn't until a few others spoke that drew his attention. The first was a Sith, one who addressed the one known as Lord Mavanger. He didn't quite catch his name, but his words for the most part were irrelevant. The part the irked him was that he referred to Tros as the Mandalorian without even acknowledging him directly, despite him being within the very same room. He referred to him to the one called Mavanger as 'the Mandalorian.' Subtly with his middle finger, he lifted it alone outside of anyone's visible sight as he shuffled to hold his buy'ce differently and uttered the word "Hut'uun" just above a whisper. Luckily, his voice wouldn't have drawn any-if much attention due to Delta speaking up. Tros knew him as the infamous clone who had a long term tender with Black Sun until Zalis Krales took them underground after the Dark Sun Station incident. While he had no personal workings with the clone, he did know his reputation, which was worth its salt. As he finished, Tros assumed that meant he would now get some formal introductions to those that he would be working with, and would also get the chance to begin to plan and fully bring the rest of his House into the fold. Hut'uun : coward (worst possible insult for a Mandalorian to give) buy'ce ; Helmet

Tros gave a smile to himself and anyone who may have been watching. So, the bloodbath war that was promised to my House still stands. The Mandalorian tilted his head ever so slightly towards the location of where this new Dark lady stood. She offered up something to him that Exodus did not. Whether she realized it or not was not something he would spend time worrying about. While he stood, he was almost certain that he did not fully understand exactly what she meant by 'fresh resources' outside of bodies. If that was all she wanted him to do, that would be easy through the expansion of his House. If she wanted something more, to which he was almost positive she did, it would indeed require a sit down discussion between the two. But now th ebigger question for Tros was this- who the hell was a necromancers and what could they even possibly to do help them in the effort. A question that lingered within his mind, bu the was sure would be answered soon enough. Without any hesitation, he moved to place his buy'ce down upon a table and make himself more comfortable. He was certain by this point, the need to earn any spot amongst the top tier Sith was almost out the door. He had earned a spot amongst them as a fellow warrior through whatever small actions he was able to provide thus far. While a fight or two would still need to be had, like within any other Mandalorian house or group, this was no different. He would still need to earn respect from a few others, but the need to hide his face was not needed. The base line of trust had now been established. As he moved more towards the inner area of the palace, he eyed a few of the Sith, taking mental notes and observations of those whom seemed to be potential threat or eyed him as a threat. He also looked upon those that maybe would be able to some day soon give him some much needed lessons in melee combat, as his beskad that he received from his mentor was sure to be something new he'd have to get used to if he wanted to fully wield it against and jetiise.

Tros listened and watched very carefully all of the movements of the Sith around him and within the room. What this new Dark Lord proposed was something his gut and heart told him was wrong, even more so since he wanted to burn and purge the Jetiise from the galaxy. But within his mind, he knew and understood the reasoning behind it. As of now, if the Sith remained aligned and helped back his House, the numbers to complete such a feat as the one he wanted to do was in no position to even be remotely successful. Word from his own had only just reached him that the fleet only just started construction and would not be ready for another two weeks. The hodge podge of weapons and crafting was not yet perfected either, so no strong front could be deployed until such feats were mastered by his own. There was no need for words from him, as it seemed to be more of a Sith gathering and speaking time. More for them to voice their own concerns or to challenge for the spot that this Dark lady held. Tros held zero interest in challenging for a rule of the Sith. His only concern was weather or not his House would still be allied and aligned with these Sith. Until the Sith amongst themselves figured out where they stood, his own ground held no voice. He understood this position well. So until that time presented itself, he would wait. Deciding that such matters where not important to push, he put his buy'ce back on and awaited to either be addressed or to have an opening that was a better time to bring up the alliance given to him by Exodus to see if this Dark Lady would still honor it.

Tros walked up into the palace after getting to halt order not to blow up the place. His buy'ce was on, and his walk carried a heavy limp, even more so amplified by the beskad on his side since the passing of one of his good friends at the hand of the jetii. Blood was dripping from his ear still from when he fired at close range at the female jetii and it slowly added it's own coloration to his already massively stained and worn beskar'gam. He could see several Sith around him, but not as many as he knew for a fact were on the planet. He was told to conduct Delta towards the main throne room, yet he was already ahead of him. While he didn't believe him and the old clone had ever met face to face, he knew his reputation. He stood outside, refusing to enter, as Delta and the Sith known to him as Nyrys seemed to be in a very intense conversation. Keeping his wits about him, he eyed the others within his eyesight, taking inventory on whom could be a bigger threat if one felt threatened by him and his vod that were present ont he planet's surface. A message ran across his HUD- ::All children are able. Their protector and one of the kids are protesting. Orders?:: Tros thought for a moment before he sent a fast reply back. ::I have no interest in maintaining prisoners. If they will not join us and become Mando'ade, execute them.:: Tros pulled off his buy'ce upon sending the order. He felt that if this new Dark Lord needed something from him, he would make sure that she understood exactly who he was and what he was pledging. And since his initial pledge, the stakes for House Solus has risen. They were in it to purge the Jetiise. They were indeed at war with them now.

Tros stood and watched as Sutu carried out his orders without any questions. The death of a mentor to him was still ringing loud and true within his ears. He kept his own hand upon the beskad as the city of Theed burned down around him. Sutu appeared again before him suddenly out of nowhere. "Alor, the fallen's gear has been collected. A few leftover explosives could still be used. A group of our spotted some attempting to get children out..." The words bounced around within his head for a moment as he ponder them and their meaning. Or rather, the direction that he indeed wanted to move towards. After a moment passed, he withdrew the beskad. "Setup the explosives on the far side of the palace. It will stand in this city no more. Bring me to the children and their caretakers. They will become Mandalorians, or they will perish with this city."

Upon the impact of the blast, Tros cut the power to his jetpack and landed on the ground in a very wobbly way. He stood for a moment, observing and taking in the full scene of carnage of the small battlefield. Vulios dead on one end. A knocked out jetii on the other. Letting out a sigh, he walked towards the jetii, picking up her lightsaber as he did. Each step sent pain throughout his leg from the place of where the lightsaber struck on his thigh. The pain now very evident since adrenaline of the fight was wearing off, and since it was the first time since taking the blow that he even put weight upon it. As he got to the jetii, he leaned down on his good knee, activating the lightsaber in his left hand to avoid the potential pain within his right arm where the jetii also struck. He was a bit disappointed that the blast didn't kill her, only knocked her out. "I would love to kill you today jetii. You killed my mentor. You deserve it." Tros lowered the blade to rest upon the right shoulder of the jetii. Not enough to do anything other than burn through her arm slightly. After he knew that it caused as much damage as he took, he leaned in to whisper into her ear. "And I know that somewhere within your head, you can hear me. So I'm saying this as a warning. You are going to be my messenger for all of the Jetiise." He then moved the blade to rest upon her right thigh where she also struck. Again, only letting the blade sit long enough to burn and cause as much damage as he received from her. "Twice now in the past few days I have had a jetii become a problem to me. Doing damage beyond what they should, and ignorantly thinking that they are gods of some sort. You are no more than a being how bleeds and dies like everyone else. And because of your ignorance, my clans... my House... We are now fully at war with you jetiise. We will burn, destroy and kill your kind everywhere we can." Tros now stood up and held the blade over her stomach. She would be the message to the entire jetiise. "Let's see your precious 'force' save you from this." With his final word, Tros slammed the blade into her lower abdomen. He let it sit for a moment before he deactivated the blade. "Congratulations jetii, you are now at war with the Mandalorians." Without taking another look, he began to walk towards the location of where Vulios's body lay. He knew that she would survive her wounds, far better than what Vulios did. As he came to his body, he kneeled down and placed his buy'ce upon his mentor's buy'ce. "Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la." After he spoke his words, he picked up his mentor's beskad and placed it upon his own weapon armament. At that moment, Sutu arrived and looked at the field of carnage. "Alor, most of the city is now burning... did the jeti do this?" He pointed at Vulios's body. Tros simply looked at the sky for a moment, watching it burn. "Yes. From this point on, we are at war with the jetiise. Collect the gear of the fallen. We have much to prepare."

Tros could feel his rage and anger getting stronger as the flames and spread all around. His HUD was now tracking the jetii, but with some strain, as the flames around caused the body heat to blend in slightly. Her outline and a small trace of health stats were the main things he was able to track, and only barely. She began to move and the Mandalorian knew within an instant that he had to stop pouring into the flames and get ready for a more defensive action, or an offensive action. As he stopped pouring the flames, he realized his time frame was shorter than expected, as the jetii was moving quicker then he was prepared for. With little time to think, Tros picked up both vambraces in cross like fashion and bent himself low in protection against the oncoming lightsaber's blade. The swing felt wild and chaotic, his vambraces catching some of it and slowing down a majority of deadly swing. Him bending low had the blade catch his upper right shoulder, cutting through his right pauldron, but not fully. His arm burned as the blade took out the tech equipment on both vambraces, but did not cut through the vambraces due to the pure beskar. Tros knew he was vulnerable, so he quickly blasted himself into the air with his jetpack to avoid letting the jetii make anymore attempts at him. Upon getting into the air, he looked down and his HUD showed a chaotic scene of heat and a now very blurry outline with health stats that blended into the entire scene below. While he knew that at his current height and distance away from the jetii, using his rocket on his jetpack would also cause for him to get caught in the blast slightly. He decided within less than a millisecond that it was better to use it and end the jetii versus letting this entire fight drag on. Simultaneously he curled himself into a ball to better protect against the blast that would follow as he launched the rocket on his jetpack in the general direction of where the jetii was last at. ((3)) Tros took the blade against his right shoulder, putting a massive cut into his upper arm and lost all of his tech on both vambraces. Fired a rocket at Alcmene at a close-ish range.

Tros watched from afar as his shots moved at the jetii, holding ground to what she had attempted, two shots she deflected back towards him, but at such a distance he was able to move himself from one, taking another to his upper right pauldron. It stung and he didn't even have to look to know it would leave a mark there. The blast however from his third round rapidfire shot found it's mark, lighting up a small firework show for him to observe from his high vantage over her. His enjoyment was short lived, as he could tell almost immediately that the jetii was not slowing down. She intended to take away the two on one. From his distance, he already knew his aid to Vulios wouldn't be much, but he had to try. Rushing downward and quick, he swung his rifle back to rest upon his back and before he could even make a move towards his blasters, he realized what Vulios was doing. He was drawing the jetii in, letting her expose herself to an attack from Tros at his own sacrifice. Tros cut his jetpack off and dropped to the ground quickly and took aim with his right vambrace. The first shot of his electro-dart fired off before her blade moved through him, Vulios still firing to keep her body turned at him as to avoid being able defend against the one coming from behind. Tros quickly let his other two darts fly out as the blade cut through Vulios' upper chest to lower neck region. Another dart being another electro-dart while the other was a poison dart. Without another breath to take, Tros screamed angrily at the jetii as he pushed his flamethrower down. The heat and intensity of it matched the anger and hate that seemed to be venomously pouring out of him and being replaced with even more rage. The fire began to burn the grass around the area of which he targeted,causing what tress and grass that were not on fire to join in on the glorious surrounding buildings that were already ablaze. She would die, and he would make her feel every bit of her own death. ((2)) Took a deflected bolt into his right pauldron. Vulios took the blade knowing it would end him to draw Alcmene in. Tros fired off all three of his darts. 2 electro, 1 poison. Flamethrower was activated in general direction and began to burn the ground.

Tros watched as Vulios suddenly took blaster fire that the jetii reflected back towards him from his own blasters. The shots panged here and there off of the older vet, one even struck his jetpack, forcing the Mandalorian to the ground. At first glance, it didn’t look like any part of his armor took much damage, with the exception of maybe his jetpack. Tros would check in a second on the full outcome of that, for now, his focus had to remain on the jetii. She moved herself along a wall in some weird movement, but not foreign to Tros. He immediately wondered if she was attempting to escape, and went to prepare his rocket launcher, but then she pushed off the wall and moved rapidly towards him. He kicked in his jetpack and attempted to rise above her to maintain the higher ground, but he did not move quick enough, nor was his jetpack able to handle such a quick climb. He caught her blade on his upper left thigh. The blade cut through the armor plate and flesh. Part of the thigh armor fell off almost immediately. The burning sensation was present, but his own rage seemed to take over. He was pissed at her for getting the upper hand so quickly. Without any hesitation, Tros activated his flamethrower and gave a quick short blast towards the back of the head of the jetii until she fell out of it’s range, which was only about a second long. Anger and rage filled him, and his HUD had words run across warning him to move. Putting both blasters away, he moved to his right, favoring his left thigh as Vulios began to use his SHUKUR-05 light repeater and held the trigger down making a very strong pour of fire towards the jetii. Tros took advantage of the sudden change of concentration and put his WESTAR’s away and instead swung his modified MK VI Paladin blaster rifle up and took aim at the jetii. He chose to target her wrist where she was using a shield and pulled the trigger, letting three rounds attempt to take both her wrist and shield down for the rest of the engagement. ((1)) Vulios took the reflected blasters across his armor and had his jetpack disabled from one of the shots. Tros took the lightsaber strike to his upper left thigh, losing part of his armor. Vulios used his light repeater and opened a steady stream of blaster fire, while Tros took quick scoped shots at Alcmene’s wrist/shield.

Tros watched for a moment as Vulios and his team opened fire on the spaceport below the main city. Fire and explosions erupted quicker than ewoks tossed into a volcano's active lava. His HUD lit up with all sorts of information as text rolled across his screen from Vulios letting him know that the royal hangar had a few taking off. Quickly turning towards Sutu. "Go, blow that damn hangar to the ground. I want it off this cliff." As soon as he finished, Sutu blasted off and moved rapidly towards the royal hangar. Vulios quickly replaced him as the one standing next to the Alor of House Solus. "Tro'solus, there is movement from the royal hangar... foot traffic. My sensors are showing a single life form." The younger of the two turned and looked in the general direction. Without uttering a word, a lone thought was in his mind. Jetii. "Lets go. No survivors here if we can help it." There wasn't a need for words, both Mando'ade used their jetpacks and moved rapidly towards the direction of the royal hangar. Tros had never been to Naboo before, but the scenery provided plenty of green from both the rooftops of the buildings and from the trees that surrounded them. The beige color of the buildings and walkways, along with the rivers running throughout the city provided a perfect reflection of the fire and explosions that threatens to engulf the entire city. As the two moved through the air, a few life signs here and there popped up on their HUDs, so they took a few shots in the general direction of where they saw and encountered them. As they moved over towards a river after they past by what looks like the main plaza, there was movement detected moving very secretively from what their HUD showed. Using the link and not words, Tros gave orders to Vulios. :: Flush them out.:: Vulios took his orders without question and quickly took his SHUKUR-05 light repeater and began to fire aimlessly everywhere near and around where the lifeform was at. @Alcmène Whatever Vulios did, it was being backed up slightly by Sutu, who had hit the main royal hangar with a rocket and was starting to set it on fire. Tros took his own 2 WESTAR-35 blaster pistols and began to take a few shots in the general direction of the lifeform. They were here to make one thing clear, House Solus is a force to be reckoned with.

3 light freighters blasted out of hyperspace over the planet of Naboo, hurling themselves at high speed towards the surface. Swift Justice, The Trident, and Bloodlust all moving at top speeds, Tros stood in the back of his own ship, Swift Justice with six others. His gaze rested on the holoprojector that was displaying the two other ship squads. Every single Mandalorian had their buy'ces on and weapons for the most part at the ready for entry. Only Tros stood without any weapons drawn or at the ready. "This is our mission, to support the Sith Empire as best we can. We're here to make a name for ourselves amongst the Empire. If you are unable to do so, cause as much chaos and damage as possible. Update each other through your HUDs and link up. I want to have our ears and eyes everywhere." Tros then pulled out his WESTAR-35 blaster pistols and held them at the ready. "For Kote. Darasuum Kote." Tros then cut the holoprojector and turned towards the landing ramp and awaited the signal within his HUD for entry. It flashed for him, yellow, yellow, yellow, green! At the green, he opened the door and walked about halfway out and then turned himself and let the air take him off the landing ramp of his own ship. He began to free fall towards the surface of the planet. It took him about four seconds before he passed through a few clouds and before him loomed the city of Theed. He refused to activate his jetpack until he reached a good midpoint between being too close to activate them and too far away from running out of enough power to get him to the surface safely. As he came down into a good area, there was some soft movement towards his right where about three or four royal guards were attempting to escort people out of the city. They were not headed towards the main palace area where he would have assumed would be the transports. They were quick to open fire on him and the other six Mandalorians. A few shots went off his right shoulder and side armor before him and the others opened fire on the guards, dropping them rather quickly. One of the other Mandalorians walked up alongside him. "Alor, there are about 7 unarmed lifesigns hiding in the building that guards were defending. Orders?" Tros looked for a second at the door and then towards the other explosions he heard in the distance. "No survivors. Sutu Skoss, you're with me. We advance." Tros and Sutu activated their jetpacks and moved rapidly towards the cliff side of the city near one of the waterfall locations. As they left, three of the Mandalorians quickly fire their rockets on their jetpacks towards the building that held the civilians, while the other two used their flamethrowers to begin lighting up other buildings. Tros and Sutu arrived near the edge of the upper city nearest to the waterfall. Arriving, the two quickly opened fire on anything that moved that was clearly not apart of the Sith Empire. As they finished their own handiwork, Tros pulled up his comlink to Vulios. "Vulios, the spaceport. Strike it hard with as much firepower as you can. Let nothing escape."