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+--- Thread: Tales of the Mandalorians (/showthread.php?tid=4468)
Tales of the Mandalorians - Dieter Schprokets - 10-17-2009
![[Image: Msite_logo.jpg]](http://i703.photobucket.com/albums/ww39/MalexaMalte/Msite_logo.jpg){kind=logo}
William Bishop led Diane Blane, Dha Piruna, and Kal Vergebuir to a hanger on the Barrier Gate Station. Consul Kandosii, as usual, was likely womanising somewhere.
Billy had a surprise.
Dha Piruna thought back to when the former Mandalore, John Cabot, led his men to a hanger. He hoped this one was not full of Arrows.
Billy pushed the button in front of a large overhead door, and it swung up slowly to reveal...
Many shiny new Outcast ships.
Several Sabres and Falcatas, and in the corner...
Two Outcast "Tridente" gunships in mint condition.
The Consuls were speechless.
"Um.." Diane started. Dha broke in.
"Since when can we afford to carry an inventory like this?" Still the banker..
"You are looking", began Billy with a wave of his arm, "at an advance payment for a new contract."
"What new contract?", asked Diana. She was unused to not being consulted, and there was a touch of annoyance in her voice.
"I'll get to that.", said Billy dismissively. Diane's eyes narrowed. You'd bloody better, she thought.
"The restrictions on the use of these ships are rather obvious; Don't shoot Outcast allies. Any Mandalorian may use one of these Sabres, or ones shipped in the future, and anyone with five Corsair heads on their record may use a Falcata. The Gunships, I have not yet assigned. But Consuls get first dibs. Myself, I don't really want one. More of a Mafic jockey, myself."
Diane nodded. "So avoid using them in Liberty space against unlawfuls who are Outcast allied. Got it. They can still be used in Kusari, Rheinland, or Corsair space.."
"Or Gallia." Billy piped up, grinning.
Dha Piruna looked up, surprised. "Gallia? We have no work there!"
"On the contrary, Consul Piruna, we do. That's the new contract, and the possession of these ships is part of that."
Dha nodded slowly. He preferred fighting Gallians to Rheinlanders. "Intel gathering?"
Billy answered. "Yes. Including how well they fight and how effective their weapons are. And there is only one way we can find THAT out, right?"
The Consuls got the drift. Certain parties were very interested in the military capabilities of the Council and Gallic Royal Navies, and the Mandalorians were now tasked with finding out, in a very ungentle way.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Billy looked at the screen in the dark room. Communications were being achieved, but there were distance, interference, and comm protocol problems. But the link, in time, sorted itself out.
The recipient was answering the hail.
"Colonel Dubreton.. Qu'est-ce que tu veux? Je dormais. Y a-t-il un probl?me?"
Billy smiled. "Salut, mon ami. Ca va bien?"
There was a pause as the other man reacted to the sound of Billy's (poor) French.
"William, my friend, how are you? Are you fools done spying on us for the Outcasts?"
William laughed. When he first travelled to Gallia, looking for contracts, he had strayed too closely to a minefield and nearly paid for the mistake with his life. The Council Officer he was now speaking to saved him, and kept him accomodated on Planet Quillan for a few weeks. Billy had learned French, and had a acquired a taste for Gallian red wine that had not diminished at all over time, and which hobby he had maintained in spite of the Mandalorians changing their role to that of Outcast spies. Clearly that other role had not remained a secret to Colonel Dubreton for long.
Sadly that was not to continue. Billy spoke to his opposite number.
"Henri, did you get the Lager?" Bretonian beer for Gallian wine, that was the deal, and it had suited both men.
"Oui. Yes, I did. Time to arrange another shipment, peut-etre??"
Billy paused.
"No, Henri. That will not be possible." The tone of his voice was revealing, and Dubreton asked anxiously, "Why? What is the matter?"
Billy smiled a rueful smile. "The Mandalorians are returning to Gallia, Henri. And we won't just be taking pictures this time."
The Gallian Colonel understood. He exhaled deeply. "I see. That is.. regrettable."
Billy continued. "I owe you my life, Henri. That is why I am warning you now. If it is any consolation, our first sortie will focus on the Gallic Royal Navy." The Colonel shrugged.
Billy reached for the monitor. "Henri, I am sorry. Business."
He switched off the monitor, picked up a wineglass. Cabernet Sauvignon. His favourite.
He looked at it and swirled it slowly, and took a very long time to drink it.
Tales of the Mandalorians - Dieter Schprokets - 11-03-2009
Mandalorian Warrior Aruetycate E'tad jumped into Omega 5 in his Eagle.
Then things went awry.
His nav computer and targetting computer responded badly to the jump completion, back into normal space. And by "responding badly", it is meant "combusting".
Hacking and coughing, he activated the fire suppression system, then began breathing through his oxygen mask, lest he suffocate on the smoke from the burning plastic and insulation. In time, the air cleared, and he was able to gather his thoughts.
Which were "Damndamndamndamndamndamndamn...."
Then he realized his sensors could still detect jumpholes, even though he had no nav computer to tell him which ones they were. Not a particular problem, since he felt he could dead reckon his way to the Cambridge jump hole, and after a few minutes of cruising, and skirting the Corsair defenses, he smiled as he saw the Cambridge jumphole ahead of him, and he jumped into Cambridge.
Big Problem.
Not Cambridge.
So very, very, very not Cambridge.
Missile platforms opened up in front of him and to his left and right. Three ships appeared in front of him, and their predatory appearance, and the red star on their hulls, let him know quite precisely how much trouble he was in.
"Oh. God. Coalition."
He spun his Eagle around and flew back into the jumphole which he had just emerged from. His receiver crackled with demands in Russian which he had no way of comprehending, and no interest in heeding in any case.
One fighter followed him.
In Omega 5, he dodged his pursuer like a fiend, but the unfamiliar Coalition weapons stripped his shield, then seared his hull.
![[Image: scrafightin.jpg]](http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc267/dietersmeep/scrafightin.jpg)
With no targetting computer, and only substandard weapons and armour, the outcome of the fight was inevitable:
![[Image: scrakillin.jpg]](http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc267/dietersmeep/scrakillin.jpg)
Warrior Aruetycate E'tad sat in his pod, wishing he could stand Vodka. He expected he would have to get used to it.
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Dha Piruna strode into the Mandalore's new office on board Barrier Gate Station. The Mandalorians were renting quite a chunk of the station, including, he had just learned, the entire 3rd Floor of 'A' Pod.
Which is why he had come.
"Who the hell is David Starkey, and why are we paying him an annual salary of 400,000 Credits, and why does he have the run of the 3rd Floor facilities, and why did we take those facilities over, anyway?"
"Wind tunnel. Engine Lab.", the Mandalore answered obliquely.
"What?!?" Dha was used to this sort of thing. John Cabot was also like this. Liked surprises. Had to be a Bretonian thing.
Mandalore Bishop gestured at Dha to sit. He did.
"It's quite simple, Dha. We need our own ships. I'm tired of crawling to the Bounty Hunters Guild, the Zoners, or the Bretonians to buy ships and guns."
"We need our own. And other Mercenaries will buy them too. It can be a profitable business in its own right. Mr Starkey is designing a line of ships for us. A fighter, a bomber, and a gunship. It won't be an exclusively Mandalorian shipline. Open market. Well, mostly open."
Dha Piruna nodded. This he could tolerate. Mercenaries buying Mandalorian ships would help the money situation in two ways; no more buying them from others, and it would add an income stream to the organisation.
The deliberations of Mandalore and Consul were interrupted by Diane Blane, who walked into the room, face pale.
She had in her hands a box.
There was blood on that box.
Billy stood upright in alarm, as did Dha. Diane spoke in a quiet voice, heavy with suppressed rage.
"Some.. people.. thought I was still Mandalore. They don't emerge from their hole often, I guess... They sent me this..."
She peeled back the box lid, to reveal the severed head of Aruetycate E'tad, complete with a branded hammer and sickle, and words carved into his skin. Cyrillic : "Mercenary" in Russian.
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Comrade Lt Commander Norman Bethune stood rigidly in front of Pilot Pavel Medvedov. He spoke in heavily accented Russian, which accent betrayed his Bretonian roots.
"Let me see if I've got this straight..", he began.
"You gave the prisoner to the Mongolian for interrogation.."
Pavel nodded slowly, his old grey eyes flickering with emotion.
Norman sighed and rubbed his eyes with his hands.
"And as usual, all we have learned from this interrogation is that men scream as they are dismembered. I assume he sent his usual package?"
Pavel nodded again. He was still shocked at what he had witnessed. He'd seen many things in his long span of years, and much cruelty, but... the Mongolian was something else entirely.
There was no questioning the Mongolian's enthusiasm, but his effectiveness....
Bethune looked out a portal at the planet below.
"They will hunt us now. Pointless, really."
And far away in Coronado, grim faced men and women were preparing to do just that.
Tales of the Mandalorians - Dieter Schprokets - 11-06-2009
Mandalore Bishop stood before most of the Alpha Sector active duty pilots in the Briefing Room, "A" Pod, Barrier Gate Station.
"Gentlemen, Ladies"
"One of our warriors, Jorhaair Dar, has gone to face Mon'star."
The room got loud, fast. Bishop gestured for silence, and got it after a time.
"He was last seen here, and it is believed he is attempting to intercept Mon'star here." Billy showed the locations on the starchart projector at the end of the room.
"He does this out of a desire for revenge. But he cannot succeed alone."
"We will save him, out of loyalty."
"Saddle up, immediately. Mhi'Trasen formations. Three bombers minimum per squad. The Necrosis is not small prey."
The pilots obeyed.
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Tales of the Mandalorians - Dieter Schprokets - 11-14-2009
Mandalore Bishop and his consuls stood before his assembled pilots.
The parade formation was unusual; The Alor'ads stood before the warriors, who formed diagonal lines on the square, pointing directly to the Mandalore and his consuls.
He spoke.
"Warriors, several of you have distinguished yourself in battle, demonstrating both raw skill, and the ability to lead others in combat."
"These are the criteria by which we decide who is to become Alor'ad : Honour, Skill, Leadership."
"Seven of you shall make this leap today:"
"Lilian Isadora, Goran Beviin, Samuel Hennessey, Sagitarii, Joe Mizerk, Dan White, and Vau Bendak"
"Do not misunderstand me when I say we do you great honour in this promotion, but do you no favours. There is another requirement. A very thick skin. Men will die under your command. Get used to it."
Each new Alor'ad recieved his rank from one of the Consuls. They then took their positions ahead of the warriors. The Mandalore's voice raised several octaves:
"Prepare to march past, Kidos' Kyrar, RIGHT.. TURN!"
More orders, and the men marched past their Mandalore and Consuls.
And headed for the hangers. To perform inglorious but necessary maintenance on their birds.
Solar anomalies had kept them grounded, but that did not mean their was no work to be done.
Even for the new Alor'ads.
Tales of the Mandalorians - Dieter Schprokets - 11-22-2009
Ge'tel Gratua and Briikase Uj'Alayi entered the darkened hanger. They had been summoned by the Mandalore.
He was not here. The whine of HVAC equipment and other devices made a constant background noise. No voices though. The mechanics had finished early, and had gone home.
"Sa racir, vode?", Briikase asked his companion. Roughly translated, "Where the hell are the lights?"
Ge'tel just shrugged.
Briikase switched to English; "Do you know why he brought us here?"
Ge'tel, never one for words, shrugged again and murmured "Va'kion." Meaning all the Mandalore had told him was that he had information for them.
A spotlight lit up the far end of the hanger. Two spotlights. Centred on two ships.
Tridentes. Outcast Gunships. In beautiful condition.
The Mandalore stepped out of the shadows between the men and the ships and beckoned them forward.
"They are almost new.", he said. "And we got a good deal on them. We do good work for their makers, after all."
"This one", he pointed left, "I have christened Mandokar. She is yours, Ge'tel."
"And the other is yours, Briikase. Her name is Aay'han."
The two men were speechless for a time. Briikase spoke up first.
"Mandalore, it is my understanding that only Consuls may use the Tridente."
Billy frowned for second. "Oh, right. I'd forgotten."
He smiled. "Guess I just have to promote you both. LIGHTS!". The last word was shouted.
The hanger lit up, revealing men who had hidden in the shadows; Mandalorian pilots who now applauded and cheered, grinning."
Mandalore Bishop stepped forward to the men and held out in each hand a signet ring, with the ancient emblem of the Mandalorian Consuls, inscribed in it. The two men took their rings. They both looked amazed.
Billy gestured at them, and told them to put the rings on.
"You have any idea how hard it is to keep something like this secret?"
The men walked as a group to the hanger door. The other Consuls, Diana Blane, Dha Piruna, Kandosii, and Kal Vergebuir joined them.
The Barrier Gate bar was busy that night.
Tales of the Mandalorians - Sassafras - 11-22-2009
I staggered into the bathroom and headed for the sink. Turning on the faucet I stuck my head in the sink and let the shock of the cold water clear my head. Looking up I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Eyes bloodshot, jagged black scars covered my head. My face hardened with resolve.
That damn Bishop, took him long enough to make me Consul. I've worked for him, shed a lot of blood. Seen a lot of good men go down. Tonight is my night, Bishop's time is over. I dug out two blue stimulant pills and swallowed them. The alcohol fog vanished, my senses heightened. I walked back through the door into the Barrier Gate bar.
Mandalore Billy Bishop was sitting at the bar laughing with the bartender. A 12 inch titanium knife strapped across his chest. His bodyguard was passed out at a table across the bar. No help for him now.
His eyes met mine as he glanced at me in the mirror behind the bartender. His smile faded a fraction as he kept talking to the bartender.
I could feel my stomach tighten, a bitter taste in my mouth. It was now or never. Time to take out the boss.
In my right hand was an ion pistol set at full power. Bishop told me several times, you gotta kill someone, do it quick. Look like you couldn’t wait to do it. I could hear his voice as I looked at him in the mirror.
I made my move and raised the pistol, but it was slow, I hit the bartender in the face with an Ion pulse at full strength. His body was carried six feet in the air and slammed into the bar mirror. Glass shards flew through the air striking everyone. His head wasn’t blown clean off, but it was an awful mess.
Bishop came out of a roll from the floor throwing the knife, before I could bring the Ion around, his knife imbedded into my right shoulder severing the tendons to my arm. I fell to the floor as my pistol slid harmlessly away.
The bar echoed in silence, the way it usually does after a scene of carnage. The Mandalore stood up and strolled over and stood above me. Small cuts covered his face from the flying remains of the bar mirror.
"Well Briikase, nice try," he said. "Though I expected something a bit more creative from you."
"Yes Mandalore," I grunted through clinched teeth. The knife still buried in my shoulder.
He glanced toward the bar then looked down at me.
"Looks like we need another bar tender. Not much left of that one."
"Yes Mandalore," I mumbled.
"And Briikase, next time you want to be Mandalore, try a little harder," he said with a smile.
Raising his boot in the air, Mandalore Billy Bishop slammed it into my face. The room went dark.
Tales of the Mandalorians - Dieter Schprokets - 11-22-2009
Mandalore Bishop sat next to the hospital bed, and waited for the man in it to come to.
When he did, he spoke tersely.
"Little soon for your next promotion, don't you think?"
Briikase winced. Billy continued.
"I don't take it personally. That's how we do things. Consuls are within their rights to challenge the authority of the Mandalore, and deadly force is usually the method. Reason is tedious and boring."
"I tried to challenge Ranov'la once. He put his blade into my thigh. Still hurts when it gets rainy."
He stood to leave. "Your shoulder has been repaired, but it will be sore as hell for about a month. Light duties for you. Lots of paperwork being a Consul, you will find."
He winked as he left the room. "Better luck next time, eh? And wound me, don't kill me. I'd like to retire to Curacao, or maybe Gran Canaria."
Briikase lapsed into a fitful sleep.
As he walked down the corridor, Billy reflected that the Mandaorians should figure out a less bloody way of succession planning.
Tales of the Mandalorians - Malexa - 12-04-2009
New Worlds - A combined fate
- This story is about Consul Diana Blane and the Rheinland Fleet Admiral,
closing the gap between both their disappearance and today. -
Tales of the Mandalorians - Dieter Schprokets - 12-21-2009
Bishop looked at the Mandalorian hanger bay. It was a mess. Coalition Marines had raided the bay, and had done millions of credits in damage, and killed and wounded scores of defenders.
The Joker and his thugs had also suffered damage to their pod, though none of them were currently to be seen there.
Joker got betrayed by the commies. Heh. Never trust a Red. Or a grown man in a clown suit for that matter.
The damage had not come at no cost to the Reds; William grimaced at the sight of a Coalition marine with a large blaster hole in his chest. His eyes were open wide in surprise. He had died instantly.
The young lady who had made the blaster hole limped towards the Mandalore. She glanced at her leg and shrugged.
"Sprained my ankle in the fight. Others did worse."
Diane had not participated in the battle in space near the planet. Still recovering from her ordeal in the hands of the Coalition, she had instead led the defence of the hanger bay.
Billy nodded. "We could have fared far worse. Except for the superhuman efforts those two over there." Billy gestured to where Lilian Isadora and Sagitarii sat slumped against the wall, their faces drawn and haggard from hours of combat. Combat that they, at least, had returned from in one piece.
Billy walked alone over to the two pilots, and kneeled in front of them. They nodded at their leader and started to stand.
"Relax, guys, and stay seated. You have done enough for me today. For all of us."
"The Coalition found my office. They raided my bar. Understandable. Diane says their vodka is foul stuff. Who in their right mind would make a drink by fermenting potatoes?"
"They, however, were unable to open the safe. There I keep some ancient artifacts of our tribe. Including these."
Billy handed two ancient metal insignia to the two pilots.
"They are meant to be worn over the heart. They are the "Inya'Motir". That translates (loosely) as 'To Stand in Flame'. They were awarded, usually posthumously, to those who had fought a reaguard action, thereby saving their brothers. Thankfully, I get to give these to you, instead of thanking your corpses."
![[Image: Crest_of_the_Mandalorian_Mercs_by_CorranFett.png]](http://www.deviantart.com/download/98466182/Crest_of_the_Mandalorian_Mercs_by_CorranFett.png)
The pilots took their medals and pinned them to their chests. Their thanks were muted by a mixture of surprise, exhaustion, and embarassment.
Billy sat next to the wall, and sighed.
"One of my predecessors, John Cabot, seized the chair from his predecessor, Luc McLeod. John and his followers were incensed that Mandalore McLeod was frittering away men and resources on pointless vendettas and wars of pride. They were beaten, badly, by Mollys. It was a humiliating time, and precipitated our civil war."
Billy looked around the room. "All this is because of my pride, and a foolish vendetta against the Reds and the clowns. Am I any better than McLeod?"
The two pilots had not seen their leader so unsure of himself before. Sagitarii was quick to reassure him.
"Sir, you are not Luc McLeod."
Lilian finished the thought.
"And I don't know about anyone else, but I can't think of any good reason to stop killing the bastards now."
Billy laughed aloud. "Thank you. I was kind of hoping you would say that."
Tales of the Mandalorians - Dieter Schprokets - 12-23-2009
The Warriors, Alor'ads, and Consuls were in formation on the parade square in the (recently repaired) hanger.
The formations had a similarity to a Bretonian squadron on parade, in that the Consuls were in front, their "Wings" behind, and the Alor'ads before their respective squadrons. But the similarity was lost in one regard; the Mandalorians were in diagonal formations. It looked good, but marchpasts were hell, and usually not even attempted.
William took his place at the Dias, and called Mandalorian drill commands. At a certain point the Mandalorian equivalent of "Stand at Ease" was given, and the pilots all relaxed somewhat.
"Warriors", William began, "I have called you here for two solemn tasks, one which gives me pleasure, the other great pain."
"Firstly, we are here to honour an Alor'ad who is being elevated to Consul; Sagitarii."
The new Consul marched smartly up to the dias, and received his signet ring; the only mark of the Consul. His new medal, the "Inya'Motir", actually looked far more impressive, but conveyed none of the authority that the signet ring did.
This was popular with the men. Sagitarii had distinguished himself in battle, and had frankly made the Mandalorians more money than most. Good pilots kept the organisation in the black; the more money, the more (and better) ships, the more kills, and the more money.. etc.
God help the balance sheet if peace were to reign..
William continued.
"Secondly, I regret to report that Consul Kandosii is missing in action; he is feared lost, in Kusari."
The crowd stirred with a murmur of alarm.
"He cannot function as a Consul in absentia, if , rather WHEN he returns, he shall have the rank of Alor'ad."
The Mandalore smiled.
"Do not lose hope, warriors. Bear in mind, not all those who are lost to us stay that way. Right, Aden Jango?"
A grim looking man currently commanding a forward squadron nodded. His gunboat was a welcome addition to the fleet.
William dismissed the pilots, who then crowded around to congratulate the new Consul.