Log:Mandalorians: Bair Oyuh's Battle Doctrines
Mandalorian Archaeology: Bair Oyuh's Battle Doctrins
OOC Date: February 25, 2020 (Optional)
Location: Keldabe Cruiser Nau'ur'Zanbar'a - Batorine System
Participants: Tara Sur, Ca'tra Kora, Evie Leven, Kirioth Kora, Sumi Kora and Hadrix Kora (GM) Clan Kora
Batorine Sytem - Interplanetary Space
Aboard the Laar'Kote, resting parallel to the form of a massive, drifting, Keldabe cruiser that looks ready to come apart at the right application of gravitational forces. Hadrix in the command seat of the cockpit and so appears holographically to discuss the findings,
"Between 942 and 899 BBY Clan Oyuh had claimed two systems of the Corporate Sector and several along the Hydian Way Their Alor, Bair was a tactical genius in space and on land. He is reputed to have worn a belt with over a dozen lightsabers hanging from it. Dozens of campaigns were successful and it was not until one of his Sergeants was corrupted by Republic spies could he be stopped. Turned by promises of glory and weapons for him to forge his own Aliit once Bair was stopped Jopu Nuhgk assassinated Bair during early stages of a defense against Republic forces on Kipid III a system near Mirial. An explosive designed to be conventional but actually containing a Proton Torpedo warhead was detonated." Hadrix pauses, checks his notes, assumedly by how his helmet moves, and continues.
"The resulting explosion vaporized most of Bair?s. Jopu fled with the written forms of Bair's battle doctrines and fled on Bair's Keldabe. The ship, Nau'ur'Zanbar'a, Jopu and those who followed him continued a form of Bair's campaign for two decades before the ship and all hands disappeared and had been thought destroyed."
The display shows several readouts on scanners, the comparably tiny Clearwater craft, the massive cruiser and several points on the hologram are highlighted.
"Can access via docking ring at several locations, or you can go EVA and board through the hull. Your choice. Just let me know and I'll prep the ship for it.."
<<"I'd say it depends on what we want to take with us. Most astromechs don't have maneuvering thrusters, so if we want any of them to help bring systems back online we'd need to either very carefully float them over, or use a docking port. Hull breaching also takes some care to avoid explosivee decompression.">> This isn't Tara's first space op, and she's examining the holo intently. <<"Any records of internal modifications or customizations that might differ from manufacturer schematics? We don't want to get lost or walk into traps."
<"I'll lead a crew inside."> Sumi says after propping her booted foot up on a bench to slap the strap to her shin guard in place. Normally, she'd have a smoke hanging from her lips, but she was on someone else's ship. She drops her foot back down, tightens the sling of her DP-23, then the 38CT. A brief moment is paid to the G8 rifle across her back before she endearingly pats the holstered DL-44 on her thigh. Everything was where it needed to be.
<"I'll lead a crew inside."> Sumi says after propping her booted foot up on a bench to slap the strap to her shin guard in place. Normally, she'd have a smoke hanging from her lips, but she was on someone else's ship. She drops her foot back down, tightens the sling of her DP-23, then the 38CT. A brief moment is paid to the G8 rifle across her back before she endearingly pats the holstered DL-44 on her thigh. Everything was where it needed to be.
Evie's accustomed to sitting in the cockpit when there's a cockpit to sit in; but it doesn't mean that she's not otherwise capable. In fact, her time in the Vanguard forced her to become otherwise capable or die trying. The Kuati woman still breathes, so clearly, she did as she had to.
<< "If we're not expecting trouble, I tend to learn towards docking." >> Evie chimes in, motioning slightly to Tara to back up her comment as eyes beneath the helmet are focused on the holo. << "I'm no stranger to repairs, but my work has typically been... smaller scale, so the more hands the merrier." >> Starfighters are her normal scale, obviously. Evie's life has revolved around them for ages. Either way, however, she's ready. Her posture says as much -- not too stiff, but not too relaxed, either.
Roth is here, helmet on and sword sheathed like she normally is. She's quiet per the usual as well. She gives a nod to the others when plans are rolled out and there's a breath taken to center herself before she straightens to follow people out when needed.
The freighter rolls and Leven's training regimens clearly having paid off with the smoothness of the transition and the soft bump of the ship magnetically locking so that the docking ring can begin connecting.
"The ship has been gone for hundreds of years... and was controlled by Mandalorians, Tara..." Hadrix's hologram notes with a rough chuckle in the vocalizered tone. "If it had records, it was on Mandalore - which is a blasted wasteland."
The locking of the docking clamps echoes and a green light turns on over the hatchway.
"When you're ready."
<<"Doesn't mean the plans for the ship class aren't on file /somewhere/ Vod.">> Tara grins inside her helmet, taking her position in the airlock. Internal rebreather activated, magboots on, enviroseals good. <<"Jenth, bring up the rear with Kate, keep us covered. Moving in when you're all green.">> Pistols up, the hunter stands ready.
Sumi rotates the G8 rifle from her back, chicken-winging her arm over the buttstock as casually as a veteran soldier might. She activates a helmet light, waits for the airlock to seal, then looks at the readings BEFORE she opens the rekking hatch.
IF they were good, and reasonably within the realm of liveable breathing, Sumi opened the hatch and stepped through the threshold. <"Heads on a swivel. Ain't no telling what's had time to grow in this piece of drek. Might be the cure for bloodburn for all we know."> Sumi's voice is naturally raspy, the indicator she was far more used to yelling over gunfire than talking quietly. <"Five meter spread. If we got motion trackers, bring them online."> Talking about the droids, but Sumi is old school.
The atmosphere shows viable, thin, but sensors show sections of the ship are reporting 0 atmosphere, and the entire ship is frigid, whatever power that is on is barely keeping the ship at a toasty twenty below in most areas. Some parts are a downright tropical five below.
<< "Nice flyin', Hadrix." >> Evie comments as the freighter docks smoothly with its target -- it's said in a prideful tone, as she's well aware she had influence in that regard. That said, she draws her S5 from its holster and holds it at the ready in her right hand; Sumi was right, anything could be inside waiting for them. Her left? Reaches to ensure that the enemy tracking is active in her AR system. One can never be too careful.
Preparations made, she moves to follow Sumi into the ship, easily following the more experienced woman's lead. Blue eyes are wide under the helmet and keeping an eye out -- not so much for enemies, she trusts her allies to watch for them -- as other things of interest. Signs of power, systems that could potentially *boost* that power if repaired. Tara wanted schematics, a working terminal would potentially have a reasonably up-to-date copy.
Roth's not one for much talking, but she gives a soft nod to the rest. The Arkanian steps behind the rest of the group once it's time to head off. She gives a moment to acclimate to the atmosphere and then gives a look around.
Like others in the clan, Ca'tra isn't prepared for EVA, so docking is the answer for her. Medical bag with its green X marking her as medical personnel slung across her shoulder, she goes through last-minute verifications - checking the HUD for everyone's vitals, exterior temps and CO levels. Gun reloaded and drawn; she gives a thumbs up. Last in line, she examines the seals between the ships before walking with her gun at the ready.
<<"Looks like we weren't the only boarding action... Hell of a battle here.">> Tara watches her doors and corners as she moves through, taking a knee to examine some of the dead. <<"I've got a bad feeling about this. Jenth, keep an eye out. Kate, see if you can find a scomp port. we can see if the main computer's still active.">>
The high-pitched whine of Sumi's G8 blaster rifle clicked on as they came to the scene of a battle. It didn't take some fancy-pants scientist or holo-detective to tell her that someone got their rekking asses kicked. Still, her weapon comes to the alert, muzzle angled down as the beam of her light cuts across the dusty expanse.
<"I hate the smell of the decaying dead on an old tub like this. Smells like sweaty socks and moldy chow."> She steps into the chest cavity of one dead body noisily, then crushes the skull of another with a slight chuckle. <"You ladies see any beskar, you snatch that drek up. Bunch of dead Mandos ain't gonna mind if they're mined by other Mandos."> She snorts out loud, casually pausing and angling her weapon up a bit. <"This is the way.">
Evie... is transfixed with wonder at the sights to be seen on board the derelict ship. It's the only problem with taking a starship-obsessed woman, especially one who's a bit of a daydreamer to begin with, aboard a vessel that she's never seen before. She's quiet on the outside and scanning from left to right... but the details she notices? Are the structure of the hallways. The small design choices in positioning of lighting. /Exactly/ where the Ancient Fresher will be located. Inside her head, these thoughts rage, and the fact that they remain /inside/ is what preserves her reputation to those who don't already know about her obsessions.
...someone get the girl a factory already.
Sumi's orders bring her back to reality, if only for a moment. << "Roger that. If anything, it might bring them some peace." >> ...and so eyes get to scanning corpses, instead. Oh, look at those interesting deck plating patterns!
<<Gross.>> Roth hisses across the comms. Apparently the mercenary hadn't smelled death in awhile. Now she was reintroduced to it and she decided she still hated it. She moves to unsheathe her sword. Just in case one of these corpses decided to pop up and spook them!
Sumi crunching through the stink like it was trash makes Ca'tra shake her head sardonically. There is a reason that Ca'tra didn't study pathology. She went through the mandatory training with cadavers, learning surgical techniques, anatomy. Far from squeamish, in most cases, dead, rotten bodies don't do it for her.
Ever.
Still, she makes herself look hoping to glean something in the macabre debris.
<"Yes. Boarding action. I wonder who caught up to who here? "> Rising from the body she crouched over, she takes a careful step over the head detached from its suit. <"What the drek is vibrating on the deck?">
Among all the bodies present, there are only Mandalorians. No other people, culture, markings. The weapons, the firing patterns... All Mandalorian.
On the opposite side of the docking color of this atrium become abattoir there is a wheezing sound. HUDs reporting pressure variances. From the atrium there are corridors marked in Mando'a to indicate the way towards the Bridge, galley and forward crew berths. After is indicated to be secondary crew berths, medical, engineering and armory.
Tara winces at Sumi's disregard for the past, not searching any bodies. Ideally, the armor should go to their families. If they're still alive. Probably best not to say that, though. <"Good thing I'm on full seal. All I can smell in here is my shampoo."> Kate meanwhile, rolls her way over to an access terminal and plugs in. Cue angry grumblin in Binary as the astromech argues with the ship's computer. <"Don't slice angry, Kate. I think we should head to the bridge. Tactical data's going to be in the CIC-"> It's about now when a flickering lighting strip overloads, the glare momentarily whiting out Tara's HUD. A corroded deckplate gives way with a shriek of metal, and the hunter drops with a startled yelp to the deck below. <<"Watch your footing, This place is unstable! Kate, If you ever finish arguing with the computer, get a good scan of the decking for weakspots."> There's a muffled whoosh from below, followed by a thud and a grunt. <<"Shab. Landed on my right thruster. Needs to be re-aligned.">>
Sumi doesn't care about the past. It's dead, nearly as dead as Mandalore. Mandalorians of this age are scavengers. Scavengers of the past, clinging to trinkets and ideals that long ago died during the brief, glory charging crusaders of those who, likely, have absolutely no blood relation to the people stepping among the dead. Sumi steps through more of the mess, moving casually and making all of the noise. One might think she hates the silence; it hurt.. all the ringing in her ears.
<"Hey.. this sign says there's a rekking armory."> She points, before wiping the sign with her hand to rid it of dusts. Sumi CAN read. <"This way.. I wonder if they got any big rekking guns still stored in there. Gods, that would make all this sweaty sock smelling worth it. I can quantify a big rekking gun.">
She shoulders her weapon and moves forward, inherently tripping a trip wire that has Sumi falling over in a clatter and landing in all the corpse mess. Simultaneously, four bowcasters discharge and MISS the ancient warrior.
When Sumi sits back up and shakes her head, a skeletal hand is upon her bosom. She brushes it off, chuckling. <"Not in life.. not in death... hahaha."> She rises back up covered in dust and bits of the dead now. Sumi doesn't care. She looks to the sign, and starts walking again.
Tara's moving to the bridge (and then away from it), Sumi's off to find weapons. Evie? Well, Evie's more interested in taking the whole rekking ship home if she can. So it's time to find out if there's any reason beyond neglect and age that the bird stopped flying. << "I'm gonna see if I can give the power a boost, bring this bird /properly/ online. Might make it easier to complete our mission." >> she suggests, moving more by the feel of a woman who's spent her entire (young) life on board one starship or another than any knowledge of what the signs are saying.
Of course, she's also looking for more bodies, so her eyes are cast downwards as she moves... and it's a good thing, too. She stops just shy of walking into a trip wire. << "Hold, ladies! Looks like the last folks that were here left some surprises behind. Trip wires and cheap explosives, so make sure you keep your eyes wide going forward." >> Evie warns over the group's comms, hoping to get to the others before someone gets skewered.
Stepping carefully /over/ said wire, she starts progressing again. A little slower and more deliberately, now. The first one, theorhetically, is always the hardest to see.
Roth follows after Sumi, because that's what she was doing usually in normal situations. She gives a look over her shoulder towards the door and then back around to the entrance to the armory. Checking to see what they might find in here. Or what might be getting ready to hit her in the face!
Roth sees something that gives her pause and there's a moment taken to move over to it, <<Alor.>> she states to Sumi. <<Looks like this was another trap here.>> she states as she kneels down by it. <<Looks pretty nasty.>> she muses.
Whatever killed. She rephrases that to herself. Whoever killed this group survived. Uncomfortable is the least of her feelings as she follows their Alor towards the armory. Simultaneous with the trap that sends bow casters at Sumi, Ca'tra slips in unidentifiable gush. It saves her life. A panel opens and an arm swinging, no, it can't be, but yes: vibro-swords spring into action. Supine, Ca'tra checks the HUD for everyone's vitals while she watches her own heart rate spike over 130. She recovers quickly enough.
<"Traps. Who had time to booby trap this place? Whatever for?"> And any reverence she might have had for the dead dissipates a she considers the deadly trap that just missed the Alor and herself.
Time. Long, drawn out - boring if not for the fact that the ship is ancient, derelict, and dying. Like the rotting tooth in the broken sun bleached jaw that is the planet of Mandalore itself.
Perhaps Sumi is right... at least in degrees. Scavenging off of a glorious past. But with numbers so few, so many soldiers unready what else can one do while a culture slowly rebuilds? Prepare for war.
It could be what Hadrix has had in mind for all of the plumbing the depths of Mandalorian history, to recover this. Remember the glory he's studied in history.
What if the Mandalorians were inspired to arise and take their stand again? Relics, old battle doctrines, they may be the first step.
The armory is a shambled wreck. That's the first thing noticed. That and it's immense. Were it in pristine condition it would weaken the knees of any Mandalorian. Where there were racks and shelves of ordinance and weapons there is a massive section of bulkhead, ceiling and floor missing the edges long cooled into stalactites of superheated metal. Thermal detonation traces that killed those above and below. There is clear sign of where coolant flash froze sentients, causing them to crumble or parts of those above to fall.
Shelves are blown over and the skeleton of a humanoid with their armor melted to them is fused to a back wall. Carbon scoring is rampant. If there is anything to find it's buried.
Engineering is a mass of bare wiring, cables, blown out capacitor banks. The hyperdrive is a mess, having detonated centuries ago. The main power banks are flickering and a warning indicator is flashing on the primary drive units. A warning. Reactor leaks building. Cooling systems failing. The slow stumbling spiral.
Tara's long walk leads to a broken lift, a destroyed stairwell, and a lucky find of an access hatch leading back up to command deck levels. The vacuum blast doors to the Bridge are shut, spotted by Jenth before Tara inadvertently blasts herself into space and causes catastrophic decompression on various levels of the ship.
But she does see, the hatch to the commander's quarters. Carbon scored down the opening seams. But no melt. Sealed from the inside?
<<"Looks like the bridge got hit, there's no air. Commander's quarters doesn't seem like it's vented, though. Should be able to cut through a standard door with my force pike. Kate, still no luck on getting this hulk to talk to us?">> Cue exceptionally inventive swearing in binary, and Tara sighing. <<"Great. She's learned some new words too. I'm going to make a small test hole.">> Tara breaks out the force pike, flips it to maximum power, and touches the vibro head gently to the door. The tip goes through with a metallic screech, but there's no telltale shriek of escaping air. <<'Pressure confirmed. Breaching now.">> Pulling the head back, she starts to cut the doors out of their frame.
<<"Tara, are you well?">> Sumi asks, turning back to see that Tara was no longer an IFF she could see with the rest of the squad. Roth's use of Sumi's honorific earns a T-visored 'gaze' which adjusts to look at another angle to see what she pointed at. <"These traps are juvenile. Intended to buy time from a boarding team so they could be shot while avoiding them.">
<<"Roger, Evie. Mark your way. Corridors like these can suddenly blend together and become a maze.">>
<"Ca'tra, you okay?"> Sumi looks to the young Doctor now before raising her rifle to be held by both hands. <"Let us reach the armory without being blasted or sliced apart. I prefer all of you whole so let's keep it that way."> Without much reverence, just as before, Sumi marches on to find the armory and look around. Her light pans from one travesty to the next. <"Sucks to be these guys. This was a big rekking blast.">
Roth gives a grimace to the others behind her helm when she looks to the trap. She moves away from it. Not wanting to accidentally fall in. She wasn't up for getting a hip replacement at forty. Neither was she wanting her blood poisoned. She moves along and finds a few blasters and a blade or two in the wreckage, <<Maybe we'll see if we can get these servicable.>> she states as she gathers them.
<< "Can do, boss-lady. Will report on anything I find." >> Evie chirps back over the comms, doing her best to make marks along the walls en route to Engineering -- even if it's just scratching a faint 'E' into the walls before getting to work. She's at home in a place like this -- some grew up warriors, she grew up /on/ a ship. Doing repairs, maintenance, that's all in her wheelhouse.
<< "Systems are pretty rekked down here, gonna see what I can do to make life easier though..." >> Evie comments, starting to dig in, diagnose... and repair. Fortunately, the girl's in her element here. It's not too long that she scores her first success in her efforts. << "Shouldn't have to worry about depressurization anymore, mag-shields are back online." >> Pulling back for /just/ a moment... she takes a look around the room. The bridge was sealed shut, but it's not uncommon for an engineer to have remote access to controlos...
<< "Jackpot! Shout out if you get stuck up there, I found the engineer's backups... should be able to offer some remote-control assistance if you need it." >> Evie's feeling pretty good about herself right now.
"Alor, I'm fine. Thanks. And these traps are insane. They knew someone was going to be boarding them, right?" Alert for tripwires and more traps, Ca'tra shuffles keeping an eye out for the elusive beskar in the armor pieces strewn about the floor. She stops in the doorway of the armory trying to see through the destruction that rained down on it.
The final cut made and the hatchway to the commander's quarters tumble down and hit with a sound like an ordinance blast in the otherwise silent atmosphere of the ship. Dust explodes and shelves shake. It's spartan, a desk, a bed. A body of male proportions curled on the floor, gutshot. The slow death. A coward hidden in his quarters, his strength spent in welding himself in rather than fight to the last. A coward wearing antiquated armor with his equipment all around him.
In the armory it feels like a tomb, a grave to glory gone. Preparedness did nothing though, death from within. All of their gathering of material for war for naught. Now the dead hold guardianship over their demesne.
Throughout the ship there is a sound like a ICE motor guttering and backfiring, a sensation of the ship starting to turn while in Engineering Evie bares witness to the smoke, sparks, and flames of a primary thrust nozzle of the main engines breaking loose as it flares and then tumbles away into the ether.
"Tara, I'm picking up some power signatures in the desk." The B1 clanks its way over to the desk, opening a drawer to reveal a set of dataslates. Tara moves over, and carefully picks them up. <<"Jackpot. I've got a set of dataslates with the Clan Oyuh sigil. ...We've also got the commander. Not sure if his armor belongs in a museum, or to the surviving members of his clan.>> It's about now when the ship shakes, Jenth wobbling and catching himself on the desk. <<"Do I want to know what's going on down there?">>
<<"Grab what you will, Mando'ade. It's time we hike it back to our ride before this whole goddamn fossil breaks apart with us inside.">> Sumi hoists her rifle up and steps back to the threshold of the armory door to peer down the corridor. <"Let's get the rekk outta here, ladies. Grab what you can, and leave the dead to the void. They had their glory. Let us live to see ours.">
As the others search, Evie's busily trying to keep the ship together. Hopping from system to system, tightening this, binding that together. Anything she can do to buy her allies the time they need to carry out their mission. It's a job made tougher as the ship is rocked by the minor explosion, and she has to grab onto the knife stuck in the previously discovered control panel to keep from being knocked off her feet. She might not be the best fighter in the group... almost certainly isn't the strongest, but she can hold a ship together with positivity and determination, if it boils down io it... and it might just boil down to it.
<< "We lost a thrust nozzle. I'm doin' everything I can down here to buy us more time, but this bird isn't long for the void." >> Evie reports up in response to Tara's question, and then it's back to work.... until Sumi gives the order the pull out. There's one last fix applied, and a soft, slightly sorrowful pat of her hand on the ship that she couldn't do more for... before she decides to try and yank the knife out of the auxiliary controls (hey, it's what she /can/ grab!) and make her way back towards where they entered. Careful to try and avoid the tripwire she saw the first time around. << "Roger that, Alor. Good call." >> Evie chirps -- her pronounciation isn't perfect, but it's still a learning process for her.
The box is heavy. Ca'tra alternates between dragging it and bending over to push it in front of her through the filth on the floor. The vibrations through the ship's floor egg her on. <Keep us on course and get down here fast, Evie.> Breathing hard she follows Sumi back to the ship with their duranium prize.
Too old for this. Ha. Older by far. The ancient warrior has known her fair share of explosive exits. Hard exits if you will. Buildings detonating in her ware. Battlefields erupting in geysers of soil, blood, and the remains of those caught in the blast. The Alor of Clan Kora has issued the egress order and is carried like a firebird on the jets of the equally ancient jetpack mounted to her armor, her cape blowing back like wings in her wake.
Bursting through corridors, angling and even kicking off of bulkheads to steer before the clearing of the atrium is before her. The exit - the path to the doorway from dead past to hopeful future. And she the bridge between the two. Older than the conflict of the ongoing galactic civil war. A foot in past and future until Sumi is aboard the Clearwater again, ready to break the seal and call for launch while the Keldabe shudders in her death throes.
Tara tucks the dataslates into her satchel, carefully removing the commander's helmet and belt knife as well and clipping them to her belt. Every clan deserves a chance to redeem itself, and who is she to deny Oyuh theirs? <<"Let's go, Jenth. Kate, get your shebs in gear, get one last insult off, and let's go. The ship's about to fall apart around us.">> Tara heads back to the wider corridors and gives her jetpack a precise percussive thump to the thruster from earlier. Engaging flight mode, the unit whines into life. Grinning inside her helmet, she jets down the halls towards their entry, battle droid clanking after her, arms pumping. <<"Jenth! Get Evie, make sure she gets out of there okay.">> Not to insult the pilot, but Tara guesses that she's not quite as familiar with jetpacks as the rest. And if the engines are blowing, engineering would logically go first.
Ca'tra watches the clan's vitals. Sumi, the old lady of war at the top of the list. This box is not worth their lives but the doctor is stubborn and wants it. Booty from an old derelict of a ship from the forgotten glory of Mandalorians. No one will sing their passing in clan Kora. The doctor can hear her own labored breathing as she drags it across the threshold into their ship. She won't leave the docking area till they are safe.
Evie knew that the ship wasn't long for this world, and the youngest woman had that on her mind as she ran through the corridor. Her first obstacle is a power conduit that goes, the wiring snapping in front of her and whipping against her armor, sparking with power. << "Whoa! Live wires!" >> she yelps. It's a surprise that slows her as she has to duck and weave through the doom, but she keeps going. She's almost made it to the last turn before the exit when the ship's primary power reactor coil blows, rocking the ship hard and sending the little pilot flying from her feet. << "Oomph!" >> is the verbal noise that accompanies the clang of armor on deck-plating
Fortunately, Tara had the foresight to keep her in mind and it's just when she's working to get up that the Kuati spies the increasingly familiar form of the B1 -- the Empress of the Void won't be meeting it space-to-helmet today, as Jenth hefts her back up to her feet and helps her run the rest of the way -- definitely a spike in heartrate and breathing as this all happens, but any fears Ca'tra has should be eased as the pair of Kuati and Hero Droid(!) are the last ones through the docking area.
Once all are board, the hatch is sealed from the bridge and docking clamps release. The Laar'Kote separates and surges forward at full thrust, shields raising and focused double back as the ancient cruiser bulges in points, cracks to bleed flame into the void, old bodies, dust, bones. Then becomes a star that lives and dies in moments, spraying rapidly melting and freezing metal into space. Another chapter of a dead age burnt and gone.
