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Author	Topic: When Few Stood Against Many [NJO action/thriller; OCs, Mandos, Vong] --- Some Updates --- 9/19
VIII Registered: Aug '05	Date Posted: 2/4/07 5:05am Subject: RE: When Few Stood Against Many [sequel to Honor Guard; OCs, NJO, Mandos] 02/03 \| Chapter II, Pt.2
	Good chapter. Not that much really happened. By the way, what kind of ballgame would Mandalorians play, I imagine that they would be pretty descent American Fotball players... -----signature----- Lord of Numbers. Follower of Waru -----signature----- High Inquisitor of the Disciples of Lumiya I see that your Schwartz is as big as mine.
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Corran_Fett Registered: Jan '05	Date Posted: 2/4/07 5:34am Subject: RE: When Few Stood Against Many [sequel to Honor Guard; OCs, NJO, Mandos] 02/03 \| Chapter II, Pt.2
	Antilles2001 posted: What did I say about posting chapters in pieces, Dave? You must see the greater scheme of things. In the finished story, the two parts make one chapter, but in the ongoing story, the parts can stand alone. Antilles2001 posted: Ronan wondered how the people would behave if he and the others were walking around without their armor, in plain clothesâ€”he figured that only Gladus with his massive size and scarred face might catch some attention. Ah, reminds me of an old Batman Beyond episode where Terry ponders as to whether "Batman" is the man inside the suit, or the suit itself. Heh. Antilles2001 posted: Oh, and banter about sniping. Foreshadowing. How should I know? Antilles2001 posted: By far my favorite customized detail: a tiny mark of a son. That would have spoken volumes about Jango's and Boba's relationship of Jango had a similar mark on his. Aye... although Ram Zerimar isn't an OC... he's a canon character, this very detail already was in Bloodlines. Antilles2001 posted: Boba's braids >>> Vong scalps. How has braids of Boba's hair?! sdhfs posted: good psot, can't wait for the next. . . . RK_Striker_JK_5 posted: I too wonder what Gladus did, there... Nice little mystery. RK_Striker_JK_5 posted: Like Macos there, scoping out the Mandos. Smart guy, there. And ouch on them not regarding him as a threat. Although good reasons, there. RK_Striker_JK_5 posted: And sounds like some action's coming up. Great! You bet... t'was about time Glad you liked it, Striker, thanks for your comment. VIII posted: Good chapter. Not that much really happened. Thanks. You gotta get used to that... not all stories are driven by action. VIII posted: By the way, what kind of ballgame would Mandalorians play, I imagine that they would be pretty descent American Fotball players... I dunno... Rugby, maybe, like the New Zealandian All Blacks with their wardance Haka. Oh, and don't get me wrong, the youngsters Fenix watches aren't Mandos. The only Mandos on Contruum are in the room. -----signature----- The other side of the NJO, featuring Mandalorians, Vong, and Peace Brigaders in a thrillride full of betrayal and intrigue... When Few Stood Against Many \| http://boards.theforce.net/b/b10477/25253415/ - http://corranfett.deviantart.com -
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Darth_Garak Registered: Jul '05	Date Posted: 2/4/07 10:27am Subject: RE: When Few Stood Against Many [sequel to Honor Guard; OCs, NJO, Mandos] 02/03 \| Chapter II, Pt.2
	Good one, can't wait for more....maybe a little sooner? -----signature----- Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur. Holding the Line http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=25728489&brd=10475&start=27377934 Breakthrough http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=27044667&brd=10475&start=27377928
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VaderLVR64 Title: Fan Fic Manager in Combat Boots Registered: Feb '04	Date Posted: 2/5/07 6:15am Subject: RE: When Few Stood Against Many [sequel to Honor Guard; OCs, NJO, Mandos] 02/03 \| Chapter II, Pt.2
	Superb post! "They took the bait." "Very well," Tzekon Lian replied on the report and cut the connection over the villip off. "Now we will crush them, both on Contruum and Gyndine." With a satisfied smile he left the villip chamber. -----signature----- If you have to choose between tears and laughter, remember that laughter burns more calories. Proud New Army Mom - off to bootcamp!
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Corran_Fett Registered: Jan '05	Date Posted: 2/13/07 8:18am Subject: RE: When Few Stood Against Many [sequel to Honor Guard; OCs, NJO, Mandos] 02/03 \| Chapter II, Pt.2
	Darth_Garak posted: Good one, can't wait for more....maybe a little sooner? Thanks. Maybe a bit more feedback, then I can work on getting "a little sooner". VaderLVR64 posted: Superb post! Vor'e! VaderLVR64 posted: "They took the bait." "Very well," Tzekon Lian replied on the report and cut the connection over the villip off. "Now we will crush them, both on Contruum and Gyndine." With a satisfied smile he left the villip chamber. -----signature----- The other side of the NJO, featuring Mandalorians, Vong, and Peace Brigaders in a thrillride full of betrayal and intrigue... When Few Stood Against Many \| http://boards.theforce.net/b/b10477/25253415/ - http://corranfett.deviantart.com -
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Antilles2001 Registered: Oct '01	Date Posted: 2/14/07 3:17pm Subject: RE: When Few Stood Against Many [sequel to Honor Guard; OCs, NJO, Mandos] 02/03 \| Chapter II, Pt.2
	"This rat wouldn't have talked, anyway," Gladus rabidly responded to Beviin's confrontation. Rats in Star Wars? "What is it with you and Gladus?!" Ronan replied huffishly. Me loves conflict, but the Sev vs. Atin thing from Triple Zero... Eh... Those Mandalorians are skilled in pretty much everything, so why not at the concealment of their true feelings, either? Now that is a fine question that probably caught my eye because it sparked a Halo plot bunny: if someone gets so used to having people not see their faces because of a helmet, would they accidentally let things "slip through armor" via facial expression? Barec laughed. "You need us to the dirty work for you?! Can you even afford us?" The dark side of the fan-loved Mandos: as cool as they are with their mythos of honor and brotherhood, what it all comes down to is that their mercenaries, guns for hire. With a few notable exceptions by Boba Fett (As far as I can tell, anyway) they won't do much without pay, will they? Makes it a little hard to root for the fellas. Anyway, keep it up, Dave. -----signature----- I have defied gods and demons. I am your shield. I am your sword. I know you. Your past; your future. This is the way the world ends. Oly Oly Oxen Free - 2007
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Darth_Garak Registered: Jul '05	Date Posted: 3/1/07 10:57pm Subject: RE: When Few Stood Against Many [sequel to Honor Guard; OCs, NJO, Mandos] 02/03 \| Chapter II, Pt.2
	So are we getting an update or what? -----signature----- Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur. Holding the Line http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=25728489&brd=10475&start=27377934 Breakthrough http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=27044667&brd=10475&start=27377928
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Corran_Fett Registered: Jan '05	Date Posted: 3/14/07 7:38am Subject: RE: When Few Stood Against Many [sequel to Honor Guard; OCs, NJO, Mandos] 02/03 \| Chapter II, Pt.2
	I haven't been able to come up with anything, lately. I think I'm stuck in a writer's block, and due to the lack of real feedback I can work with (like criticism and things that suck in my stuff), I'm also lacking motivation. Don't worry, this story doesn't die, but it will take a while before I can really get back to it. I'm currently having other things on my mind, like an idea for a One Poster, halfly as an entry for the Mando Challenge... Sorry everyone, but looks like you gotta wait a bit. -----signature----- The other side of the NJO, featuring Mandalorians, Vong, and Peace Brigaders in a thrillride full of betrayal and intrigue... When Few Stood Against Many \| http://boards.theforce.net/b/b10477/25253415/ - http://corranfett.deviantart.com -
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Corran_Fett Registered: Jan '05	Date Posted: 5/1/07 7:55am Subject: When Few Stood Against Many [sequel to Honor Guard; OCs, NJO, Mandos] 05/01 \| Artworks!
	I actually have the new chapter already finished, I just need some heads up from a beta-reader and... someone else. You should expect it within the next few weeks. And meanwhile, here's a new artwork, the insignia of Ronan's commando unit in ShenCresh Ops, the Shogun police special forces department he had been working in up to the start of the Vong invasion. More on ShenCresh Ops (yes, I made that up) here: http://swfanon.wikia.com/wiki/ShenCresh_Ops Also, big kudos to CucumberBoy for this artwork of Ronan's sidearm, an P-7 'Offshoot' special: I made that pistol up as well, together with this little article: http://swfanon.wikia.com/wiki/P-7_%22Offshoot%22_special Expect more and more artworks on Ronan in the future. -----signature----- The other side of the NJO, featuring Mandalorians, Vong, and Peace Brigaders in a thrillride full of betrayal and intrigue... When Few Stood Against Many \| http://boards.theforce.net/b/b10477/25253415/ - http://corranfett.deviantart.com -
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Corran_Fett Registered: Jan '05	Date Posted: 7/1/07 6:15am Subject: When Few Stood Against Many [NJO thriller; OCs, Mandalorians, Vong] - UPDATED, Chapter 3--July 1st!! - Date Edited: 4/7 8:15am (2 edits total) Edited By: Corran_Fett
	It's been so long, and I have no excuses. This is my longest chapter ever, and I hope it will make up the long delay. Big kudos to Kenobi_Kid and Quiet_Mandalorian for letting me use some of their OCs, and even more thanks to QM for the collaboration on the parts with his characters. Also, a thanks to CeiranHarmony for the idea of a little plot element in this chapter. Chapter III - Trials and Errors Zo'Kalo Plaza, Contruum - two hours later When he had been here three hours earlier, Ronan hadn't expected to be to Zo'Kalo Plaza so soon again. The sun had already begun its descent to make place for the night, but the activity on the plaza hadn't ceased yet. Once more, that feeling of the calm before the storm struck Ronan, it seemed to be hovering everywhere: on the catwalks, over the streets, under the flickering neon-lights of shops and buildings, more and more of which were beginning to open up the later the evening grew. The people here had to know that they would not stay untouched by the war forever, but did their best to ignore it. The storm's coming sooner than you'd think... This time, however, they merged into the crowd without drawing any looks at all, even when the rancor of a man Gladus Tite was had still been with them. The team was disguised in loose-fitting casual clothing, most were still wearing their armor underneath, and bags with helmets and gauntlets swung over their shoulders. Unconcealed weapons like blasters and vibroswords were holstered to thighs and under shoulders, or in their owner's hands. About half an hour ago, the group of Mandalorians, plus Fenix and Rios, had split up to follow different leads. "Rumor has it," the GA lieutenant had announced, "there's a bunch of Peace Brigaders hiding right under our noses. We've been searching for their lair for the past few weeks, but they managed to keep a low profile. We already feared they had grown smart, but when word spread of a handful of Mandalorians in town and a Vong spy dead—" Rios had shot a glance at Gladus walking behind him, "—they jittered like a herd of nek dogs thrown into a cage with a krayt dragon. Sheesh, it's amazing they even reacted that soon, but all the better for us." He had turned and motioned the group to stop before continuing. "We had a lot of leads and potential spots, but our boys managed to narrow it down to two locations: the Open Palm, a dubious cantina—at least as dubious as its name, I'd guess—in the western suburbs, and a storehouse not far from here in the southwest. We'd best split up and check them out." And so they had. After Rios had transferred the coordinates to their datapads, Ara, Sareth, Gladus and Fenix had left for the warehouse, with Rios, Jiriad, Skira and Ronan left heading to the pub. Communication was provided by nearly invisible beads in the ear as comlinks, so one group could catch up with the other once a discovery was made. Striding next to Ronan, Altair Jiriad was now groaning. "Hmpf... my new armor will never see a Vong taking to his heels and making a run for it if it goes on like that." Ronan suppressed a snigger. Armorer of both Ronan, Gladus, and of course his own armor, Jiriad was now the only one who couldn't disguise his armor under the clothes—the spikes would have pierced the fabric and stood out like abnormal skin mutations. He was going in pretty much unprotected now. "I've told you to bring your old one," Ronan said. "But your pride wouldn't listen to me...." "Pride...? No. If I wanted my armor to be an object to show off, I would've forged a shiny, blinding sample that would have exceeded everything ever seen before. Now I forged a dull, ugly and vongyc one that even scares the osik out of me every now and then when I open my locker to put it on. Shab, it's supposed to make a Vong jump out of his scarred and deformed skin, not me! And now it looks like it's gonna end up as an exhibit, after all." He growled sullenly, shaking the long dreadlocks out of his tanned face. "Once we have 'em," Ronan reassured him with a mocking glance, "you can sprint back to the hotel and grab your armor. You'll probably be missing the fight then, though...." Jiriad mumbled something inaudible and quickened his pace. Ronan wondered if he was working on a reply, but was interrupted by Rios, who had been chatting with Skira. "We're close," the Feeorin announced, and his gaze lingered over the three Mandalorians. "You probably won't like this, but you better stay here until I've observed the situation inside." "You hit the mark," Ronan retorted harshly. "We don't like this. We haven't come here to lob about uselessly." They had long left the plaza and entered one of the murkier and filthier parts of the city, where the kind of pedestrians had changed from businessmen, traders, and officers to smugglers, drunkards, homeless people, and the all other usual kind of scum. As they turned the corner of a run-down barber shop, which grew into a wide alley, they were welcomed by the sight of what looked like a stray garbage dump in front of an abandoned industrial building, with a small doorway and a flickering white neon-logo above it, barely visible through the thick green dust. The logo showed an outstretched human hand that looked like it had been taken from the Peace Brigade symbol, only that the scarred counterpart of a Yuuzhan Vong hand was lacking. Below it ran outlined, unlit Huttese letters that read OPEN PALM INN. Ronan assessed that the alley was a dead end, although the pub had to have a back door. Skira was the first to halt in front of a pile of trash over a manhole cover that reeked of death, vermin, urine and various dung, all in a nauseating mixture. Ronan grimaced and wrinkled his nose—he would give anything for his helmet's airfilters now. Jiriad's son lifted his collar over the nose, but the others didn't bother. The young man with coarse, curly blond hair and a short, bristly goatee was carrying a pair of darkened goggles, which he put on, shifting his view over the whole expanse of the building front. "Don't have to do either," Skira said as he lifted the goggles to rest on his forehead again. "I can make out at least a handful of Vong signatures, and more so about a dozen of other species that probably are our sought Peace Brigaders." Now it was Rios who grimaced as he stared to Skira. The teenager's special goggles were fitted with the same electronic visor mode that Gladus had used to spot the disguised Vong shortly before; the same visor mode utilized by Yuuzhan Vong Hunter droids of the Galactic Alliance. Extremely interested and skilled in computers and tech, Skira had been working with Gladus on implementing that visual sensor in his tech-laden goggles ever since Rios's departure from the hotel. The Intelligence officer hadn't exactly been delighted when the "big secret of detecting cloaked crab-boys" had turned out to be nothing new at all—it actually was a technology the GA already had at their disposal for a long time. "Tell the others to get their butts over here ASAP, then," Rios demanded. "I'm going in anyway." And before anyone could intervene, the Feeorin had vanished through the smog. Ronan still didn't like it, but the lieutenant was probably doing the right thing. Numbers could deceive, and when the Feeorin agent was inside, he could at least assess the condition and armament of their opponents, what would only be of advantage for the group. Many of them were probably drunk or high on drugs, anyway. Meanwhile, Jiriad had called the other half of the group, which would be arrive in half an hour. The dreadlocked Kiffar took his son aside and moved out of Ronan's earshot. It was a thing between father and son, something that didn't concern him. From the way the two were conversing, however, he could tell that it was of utmost importance to Jiriad. After a few minutes, Rios returned from the cantina. He stood silently next to Ronan, waiting for the two to finish their conversation. Shortly, they did and approached Ronan and Rios, after Jiriad had reassuringly patted his son on the back. He nodded to Rios to report. "Alright," the black-complected Feeorin said. His comlink was active, so the other group got the report as well. "I counted a total of thirteen individuals in the pub, probably a handful more are in adjoining rooms that are restricted for the normal patrons. Four humans, two of them unusually tall, a Wookiee, two Klatooinians—I'll bet my officer license those latter five are scarheads—an Elomin, three Nikto, an Aqualish and a Twi'lek. All males, and save for the suspected Vong, they aren't exactly sober. Their weaponry looks rather modest, nothing bigger than a heavy blaster pistol, but there could be larger arms under the counter or in other rooms. Mobilizing a police force to seize them is probably out of question, they'll surely notice, so I say we wait for the other bunch of you to get here and go in. Nobody will mourn a pack of Vong spies and kriffing collaborators take a trip below the ground, but we should try to leave at least one or two alive for interrogation." Ronan nodded silently. The group would be here any minute, and they all had the possibility to use non-lethal means of taking out the chakaar'e. Nevertheless, he noticed that Rios chose his words carefully, not to upset the Mandalorians. Ronan doubted Galactic Alliance Intelligence approved of a pile of corpses—instead of living suspects full of information—under normal conditions, but going in with a party of Mandos was not commonly taken as normal condition. Rios looked around as nobody replied, but then Jiriad motioned him to cut the comm-connection. "That's not how we do it," Altair said after Rios complied. "There's only one of us going in, and he's going in now." He gestured to his son. "Skira still hasn't gone through the one final trial to become a man and a warrior, and now the time's ripe for his verd'goten. Six Mando'ade is overkill for only a heap of osik'la drunkards, anyway." The tone in his voice implied a finality that made clear he could not be convinced otherwise. It didn't exactly surprise Ronan, he had been expecting something along those lines after the private conversation between father and son. He gave Skira an approving pat on the shoulder. The young man was two years over the standard age when the verd'goten, the trials for the rite of passage, was usually celebrated, returning a boy or a girl a grown man or woman and true Mando'ad, Son or Daughter of Mandalore. Although Skira had already passed the majority of tests, Jiriad had kept one final task for his boy before he would recognize him as an adult. And now the time was ripe, like Jiriad had put it, for the boy to undergo the final trial, a test that was under real field conditions and not to be taken lightly. It was a lethal task, one that even a grown Mando warrior shouldn't underestimate, but the fact that the hostiles were only halfway conscious and battle-ready, as well as the advantage of surprise on Skira's side, made it an assignment that was not impossible to accomplish. And if Skira thought it too hard, he could easily refuse, after all. Rios obviously thought otherwise as he frowned disapprovingly. But how could an aruetii, and outsider, ever understand? "This time it's me who doesn't like it," the Feeorin said with an ever-so-slight tone of desperation in his guttural voice, "but it's too late for me to stop you from it, anyway, isn't it?" He swallowed hard. Jiriad ignored him and rested his hands on Skira's shoulders, looking his son in the eye with a caring, fatherly glance to encourage him. After what seemed like hours, the boy gave a slight nod and turned to the cantina. All what needed to be said had been said, there was no need for further words. Jiriad turned to Ronan with glittering wet eyes while his son disappeared through the dense smoke, just like Rios had a couple of minutes before. "He will make your clan proud," Ronan said to his friend as they heard the dull hiss of the opening door in the distance. "Kaysh ven piruni sur'haaise." He will make their eyes water. Ronan gave him a comradely pat on the back as another hiss indicated the door had slid shut. The young man was on his own now. Now that he contemplated about it again, Ronan thought that maybe it wasn't such a good idea at all. He had a bad feeling about this. Things were going too smoothly, too easily, too obvious that it could be wholesome. And then there was the fact that the whole location literally smelled of an ambush, being a dead end, easy to observe, and all. But it was Skira's and Jiriad's decision, nobody else had a word in their choices. Silently, the three of them approached the cantina and went into a corner a few meters away from the door, trying to avoid the reeking garbage. There was nothing to do but wait for the door to open again. Who came out, however, was another question entirely. If Skira was in danger, he'd call for help over their shared comm frequency. Or at least that was what Ronan hoped Jiriad had told his son. ***** The nauseating stink already reached Macos Fenix's nose before he and the other three—Ara, her husband and Gladus—even turned the corner to the alley in which the cantina lay. Salem Rios's statement that this was a dubious place was a sheer understatement, and what the ex-bounty hunter saw could not in any way be called a "cantina." Trying to ignore the reek as best as he could, he caught up with the other three through the green, gloomy smog, while avoiding to step into heaps of garbage and dung. What in the Nine Hells of Corellia is this place? He figured that the answer was as simple as his question: what else could you expect from a bar swarming with Peace Brigaders? He could make out three figures leaning against a wall in a corner several meters away from the door. Three figures? Wait. Shouldn't that be four figures? The only ones he saw were Ronan Barec, Altair Jiriad and Salem Rios. But... "Where's Skira?" Sareth Karr, Ara's husband, finished his thought. "Isn't he supposed to be with you?" Nobody said a word. Barec flashed a thumb at the door. Oh, you've got to be kidding me! Macos looked at Sareth, Ara and Gladus, but found nothing in their expressions that conveyed his own feelings. They seemed to approve on the boy going into a lair crawling with enemies, all on his own. Kark it, those Mandos are driving me crazy... "What's going on?" he asked hectically. "Why didn't he wait for us?" No one answered. "Hello?! You've just sent a young man to certain death! And all you bunch can do is nod silently and look away. What is it with you people?!" Ara glared at him furiously. She wasn't the only one, and Macos started to regret his words. But he didn't give a damn. There was a teenager in a pub of drunken criminals and a handful of Yuuzhan Vong, and if the ever-so-great Mandalorians didn't want to do something about it, then Macos would take matters into his own hands. He scowled at them one last time. He drew his heavy blaster pistol and headed for the door. He managed only a few steps before something heavy jerked at his shoulders and he crashed to the ground, back first. Macos spun to see the giant figure of Gladus Tite looming over him. The mountain of a man reached down and forcefully grabbed both of Macos's upper arms with a grip like iron pincers. Then the bearded man yanked him upright and pushed him back into the corner, pressing his arms tightly to his back. "You wanna get in there and die a miserable death?" the deep, harsh voice whispered from behind. "That's fine with me, but you don't put Skira's life in jeopardy." Macos was nonplussed. Now it was him who was about to die in there. He could just about keep himself from bursting out laughing at this ridiculousness. But then Ara stepped forward and narrowed her eyes on him, with an expression he couldn't quite place. "Altair's son has been waiting for this for over two years," she said in a strict, deadpan tone. "When he steps out of that door," she pointed at the Palm's entrance, "the boy returns a grown adult, a fully trained warrior and a true Son of Mandalore by Mando reckoning. And you—" Her eyes narrowed even more, to an extent Macos hadn't imagined physically possible. "—are not going to spoil his final rite of passage. The verd'goten is a matter between the child and his parents only. No one interferes." "But he is going to die in there. You can't just...." His words trailed off as his determination faded. He glances over the shoulder, only to stare into the ice in Gladus's dark, poison-green eyes. That daunted him even more—like everything else in this strange man's totally unemotional behavior. "But the odds...." he started as he faced Ara again. "Everything is against him. Where is the glory in dying for nothing, when his comrades are right around the corner to help him survive? There is no martyrdom in fighting a bunch of filthy, low-life scumbags." "Better watch your mouth," Ara retorted, "it will get you killed sooner than you'd like to think." She paused, and then continued with a little less tension, "It is the decision of Skira and Altair alone, and there is no going back. We can't ask you to understand our customs, but we do ask you respect them. If you can't, then go back right where you came from." With finality, she pointed to the exit of the alley. "I... I...." Macos said, "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to upset you—any of you." He looked in the round of deadpan faces. They had been watching with folded arms. "I better keep my mouth shut for now." "Finally a sound decision," came Tite's harsh voice as he released Macos. It was only when the ex-bounty hunter turned to retrieve his blaster that he heard shouts, damped blaster shots and punches coming from the inside every now and then. At least that meant the boy was still alive, otherwise the fight would be over. If only we could check on his status... He suppressed a curse as he went to a wall and leaned against it, next to Rios, turning away from the Mandalorians but keeping an eye on the doorway. When he leaned down to rest his hands on his knees, more out of desperation than of fatigue, a thought struck him. There was a possibility to check Skira's status, he just needed to figure out his personal frequency so that the others wouldn't hear him. But before he could work on anything, the sound of something hard hitting the door from the inside sounded from the cantina, and everyone left the corner to from a half circle a handful of meters in front of the door. Macos looked at the others and frowned, but they didn't pay attention to him and had their weapons drawn. Sareth and Ara even tore the tunics from their armor suits and put on the helmets and wrist-guards that had been stuffed in their bags. After the thud against the door, there was only silence, which meant that this was close to be over. The rusty door slid open with a hiss. It took Macos a moment to realize that he had dropped his blaster and raised both hands to his mouth in shock. What he saw was not good at all. In the doorway stood a red-complected Nikto, wearing what looked like an ancient Imperial uniform. The wrinkled alien was holding up a long vibrodagger over his head in triumph, an evil smile on his creasy face. The only sound audible at present was the humming of the Nikto's weapon. The alien's smile soon turned into a boiling expression of shock and anger at the sight of the Mandalorians. Now Macos noticed that blood was dripping from the dagger. Shock was written into everyone's face as well—save for Tite, who was wearing his standard deadpan mask. Most of all, on Jiriad's face, whose eyes were wide open. The father of a son who he had probably sent to his doom was on his knees, his back crooked and grace destroyed. But then another sound broke the silence. The sound of a blaster. And the sound was coming from behind the Peace Brigader, from the inside of the Open Palm. Once more, the Nikto's expression changed, now into a look of horror. Then smoke soared from the alien's back, and his body dropped to the ground with a dull thump. Macos saw Jiriad raise his head with reignited fire in his eyes, as through the doorway stepped his son. ***** Ronan was a little puzzled why nobody had shot the Nikto when they had first spotted him. Probably because the whole situation was more than odd, and he had been taken off-guard himself. He felt for Altair, as the father of a now grown man managed to get back on his feet, tears of joy in his eyes. Father and son were gazing at each other intimately, but nobody moved. "K'oyaci! This night will be celebrated and long remembered!" Jiriad called out, his voice filled with pride. "Kandosii bora, Skir'ika! Come to me, ner verd'ad, you are now a warrior like the rest of us. I never should have had you wait that long. Mar'e, now that you are a man, I have a task of great importance for you." Skira put up a wide grin. "What? Like twice the heap of di'kutla chakaar'e?" For the flicker of a second, there was a dark blur behind the young Mandalorian, but it was enough to pump the adrenaline into Ronan's veins. With that came the odd sensation that time was beginning to slow down. With no notable sound whatsoever, an unidentifiable black thing came flashing out of Skira's torso, together with a splash of crimson red blood. Skira never had a chance to get a look at his attacker, or to express any emotion whatsoever. He died instantly. Supported by the black object reaching out of his chest, right where his heart sat, however, the body did not drop. And then Ronan realized in shock what the object was. A perverse mutation of an amphistaff that looked like it had come straight out of a nightmare, its serpent-like head baring its teeth and spitting a bit of poison to the ground. An icy chill crawled up the marksman's spine as he made out who the attacker was: a broadshouldered Yuuzhan Vong warrior, no six feet tall—what could be considered small for a Vong. He completely lacked the common vonduun-crab armor, wearing nothing but a waist-wrap. His skin, however, looked very unusual in itself and was smeared with what appeared to be black blood—Yuuzhan Vong blood. Long, claw-like talons pierced out of the unusual warrior's knuckles, and he was holding an odd version of a coufee in his other hand. On his scarred face sat the same evil grin as on the Nikto before, but he did not at all seem scared by the sight of half a dozen Mandalorians. Ronan glanced at Altair. He felt guilty for not feeling anything for the boy's death, yet. It's gotta be the adrenaline. A silent cry was forming on Jiriad's lips, his features a haunting display of blank horror, unable to even force a sound, as though he was chocking for air as he dropped back onto his knees. Tears were running down his tanned face, but in his eyes burned an all-devouring fury that seemed to be a culmination of all the suffering, the pain and the wrath the now broken man had endured in his life. And all that rage was directed straight at the Yuuzhan Vong. At all Yuuzhan Vong. Everyone else had his weapons trained on the single scarhead, shock and dismay written on their faces, but they didn't fire. The abomination of a Vong was still holding Skira's corpse as though it was a living shield—only that it was dead. Ronan had to shudder at the misplaced and morbid thought. The first one to break the silence was Gladus, whose face was, for once, not deadpan. He did not, however, show signs of shock or fear, like everyone else did. There was an every-so-slight touch of reverence, even satisfaction in his expression. Ronan scowled. That's the expression of a man who's finally found a worthy adversary. "Slayers. I've seen them before, on Caluula." Gladus's deep voice sounded as though it was coming from somewhere far away, not from the burly man next to Ronan. "They're like Jedi. Only better...." His voice trailed off as he noticed that Jiriad had struggled back to his feet, in his hands a long, thin object wrapped in lines. His beskad, Ronan recognized, his traditional Mandalorian saber, an ancient weapon rarely seen nowadays. The only other persons who sported one Ronan knew were Goran Beviin and Gladus Tite. Only then Ronan realized what Altair Jiriad was up to. The burning rage around his pupils was embanked by the expanding white of his eyes, and they were sparkling with a hint of frenzy. Ronan's old friend was thirsty. Thirsty for blood. Simultaneously with Gladus, Ronan stormed towards the rabid Kiffar. His sword was unwrapped now, and he raised it above his head, eventually managing to get a sound through his sore throat. And what a sound. His ear-piercing scream of pain and wrath was beyond anything Ronan had ever heard, and it even seemed to frighten the ever-so-mighty Yuuzhan Vong Slayer. Before the two men could reach Jiriad, the scarhead finally hauled his thick amphistaff out of Skira's chest and pushed the body to the ground. Even while the body was falling, the Vong stepped out into the open, to the left of the door, and raised his amphistaff in a defensive stance. And then another Slayer appeared through the doorway, posing himself opposite to his next-of-kin in the same posture. Not. Good. Jiriad must have missed that, because he carried on and was about to waste his life in a futile attempt to attack the deadly Vong breeds. Just in time, Gladus and Ronan managed to reach and detain him, dragging him back into the half circle. Altair's screams did not cease, though. After what seemed like a lifetime, the broken man finally stopped his struggles to escape the grip and dropped on his back. The screams were now replaced by quiet sobs as the Mandalorian writhed on the ground, mourning for his killed son. To say it shocked Ronan to see a man, a warrior, so utterly broken was an understatement. Jiriad's rage against the Vong nearly converted to Ronan as he felt his own blood boil in fury. That was what the Yuuzhan Vong were doing to them. That, and worse, was what they were doing to the whole galaxy. But Ronan had enough experience in this to know that his emotions would get him killed in a situation like this. Rarely encountered before, the Slayers were an unknown quantity, and when even a man like Gladus Tite had a kind of respect for them, then he had all good reason to shiver. He wasn't an especially good swordfighter, anyway. Gladus, on the other hand, had killed Jedi before Ronan had even been able to carry the weight of a sword. Gladus was taking a few steps forward, his face once more unemotional, his eyes predator-like fixed on the scarheads, who remained waiting like stiff statues for the Mandalorians to make their move. Gladus was holding his own beskad's scabbard in both hands now, slowly turning to face the group behind him. His expression showed determination and had an ordering feel to it. He said one word. "Run!" Then the bearded Mandalorian drew his short saber and threw the sheath to the side. He lifted the heavy sword out of pure Mandalorian iron to a stance that was completely unfamiliar to Ronan, and outstretched his left arm to wink the Slayers to him. But he was still hesitating. He's mad! Two of those Vong'jetii are too much for him to take. But Ronan didn't bother. If Gladus wanted a challenge, Ronan wouldn't hold him up. But he didn't exactly want to be around when the Slayers cut down the expert swordsman and went to prey on the others. He would follow Gladus's order. Tite still hadn't opened his hand to beckon the Slayers, probably waiting for the others to leave before he started the fight. And even as Ronan turned to do just that, time seemed to slow down again as a high dose of adrenaline flooded into his arteries. The reason were three different volleys of shots banging and rocketing through the dense smog behind them, searing the air as they flew past the group of Mandos, past Gladus and straight towards the Slayers. One of the rounds was of high-energetic blaster fire, the distinctive whine of which made a cog register in Ronan's brain, but he was too busy to further think about it. The two other rounds were nearly soundless, one a hardly visible, extremely accelerated particle that had to have been fired from a Verpine shattergun. The last round was in fact invisible and had only caught Ronan's attention because of the air it had sent swirling around a narrow path in the dense smoke. What weapon had fired it, however, he did not know, and right now didn't exactly care to know, either. As a sniper, Ronan simply had a trained eye and recognized these few details within the second it took the shots to pounce on the Slayers' amphistaffs. With a speed that would have even made a Jedi gaze in awe, the two biologically advanced Yuuzhan Vong raised their organic weapons to deflect the bolts, in a fashion just like a Jedi would. Ronan had never seen a Vong perform an action like that before, let aside any other kind of being. The blaster round was sent stray into a building by the Vong on the left, where it deflagrated harmlessly. The two other rounds, however, got through. The other Vong did indeed raise his amphistaff in time to catch the shattergun's projectile, but the slug was so fast and tiny that it pierced the organic equivalent to a lightsaber and came out on the other side, however slowed down enough to just bounce off the Slayer's protective skin uselessly, leaving nothing but a bruise. The Slayer on the left was not so lucky. While he had deflected the first blaster bolt, he did—self-explanatory—not see the invisible one coming. Ronan didn't see it either, but when a thud hit the Vong's shoulder and nearly sent him swirling around, he knew the shot had hit the mark. The injured Vong barked something in the guttural Vong language and teamed up with the other one to advance on Gladus, who no longer had the need for beckoning anyone. Ronan looked at the others and motioned them not to fire—the reflected bolts could hit one of them. He beckoned the group to make a run, as much as he regretted to. Gladus would be able to hold the Vong long enough, and then there were also the three mysterious shooters whose weapons had proven to be surprisingly effective against those Jedi-like Vong. Now, as he turned to the alley exit, he saw three figures in distinctive Mandalorian armor step through the gloomy dust, and it struck him why the blaster shot had sounded so familiar—it was the peculiar whine of a BlasTech EL-20 carbine that had been modified with a "disintegrate" setting, and Ronan knew of only one Mandalorian who carried such a weapon: Eclan Graven, a Mandalore-born mercenary he'd occasionally worked with in the past. His thoughts were confirmed an instant later as his eyes registered the sober black stripes decorating the distinctive dark blue supercommando armor of the lead figure; Graven's personal identification markings. He did not recognize the two next to Eclan, but he figured they had to be Kaz Koban, a reclusive armorsmith he didn't know much about except through hearsay, and Joras Navhett, a wisecracking explosives fanatic clad in shrill yellow armor with fanglike black stripes. Navhett was sporting the suspected Verp, while the Wookiee-sized Koban toted a heavily customized blaster rifle that looked tiny in his massive arms, and from the looks of it had started its life as a Clone Wars-era DC-15. Of the three, Ronan knew only Graven personally, and not especially well, all things considered, but trusted him nonetheless. The other two were a different story. Ronan liked to keep himself up to date on the doings and personal histories of any and all Mandalorian mercs whom he might find useful to recruit for specific missions, but he knew less than he would have liked about either Koban or Navhett, except that that the one was rarely known to leave his home in a converted Imperial junkyard, and the other was an especially eccentric member of the powerful Navhett clan. All three had been operating together independently of other Mandalorian forces since just before the war, and no one ever really knew exactly when, where or why they'd turn up next. Well, today's just full of surprises, Ronan thought, admittedly a little baffled. And it wasn't exactly every day that something surprised the former special forces commando. But now the three newcomers had caught up with him, and other thoughts occupied his mind. "Get moving," Graven grunted as he passed by, not stopping for introductions, "the scarheads are mine." While the others continued to withdraw, Ronan stood still as the three charged ahead to meet the enemy. Having just swung his rifle over his back, Graven was grabbing a cylindrical object from his belt, and with a sharp snap-hiss, the flash of a scarlet-bladed lightsaber leaped into fiery life in Eclan's hand. ***** Yuuzhan Vong warship UNDYING AGONY, darkspace Tzekon Lian struggled with himself as he paced the organic corridors towards the bridge. Commander Rulaak Tsun, commander of the Undying Agony and supervisor on counter-Mandalorian operations, would not be pleased with the news. Lian himself had only just received them a handful of minutes ago, but not from the mole among the Mandalorians: a filthy Peace Brigader had reported that they had been detected. So much was good news because that had been the plan, but what happened then had infuriated Tzekon Lian so much that he had grabbed his coufee and sliced the villip in two halves. He paced through the door membrane the instant it started to retract, and approached the commander, who was currently busy on the bridge. Lian interrupted him anyway. "What is it?" Rulaak Tsun grunted. "We can forget Contruum," Tzekon Lian started his report, "and should focus all our attention on smashing them here on Gyndine. They are supposed to arrive soon, after all." "Tell me what happened on Contruum, subaltern!" The commander was rather barking than talking now. "NOW!" Lian gulped, but didn't waver. "They got the bait, but instead of devouring it with a single bite, they vivisected it and only snapped the tasty parts." He paused, wondering if his metaphoric speech was such a good idea. "Only one Brigader and the two Slayers survived, so far, but latter are in jeopardy and face additional reinforcements to the hostile group." He paused, not feeling able to actually phrase this. "One of them is a Jeedai." To be continued... *Eclan Graven and Kaz Koban are characters created by Quiet_Mandalorian; Joras Navhett is a character by Kenobi_Kid. I'm afraid that it could take another while for the next chapter, folks, but I hope nothing longer than two months. Now, please tell me your thoughts on this chapter, and be as critical, constructive and thorough as possible. Especially point out things that you don't like and mistakes on my side, please. -----signature----- The other side of the NJO, featuring Mandalorians, Vong, and Peace Brigaders in a thrillride full of betrayal and intrigue... When Few Stood Against Many \| http://boards.theforce.net/b/b10477/25253415/ - http://corranfett.deviantart.com -
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RK_Striker_JK_5 Registered: Jul '03	Date Posted: 7/1/07 9:20pm Subject: RE: When Few Stood Against Many [NJO thriller; OCs, Mandalorians, Vong] - Updated, Chapter 3--July 1
	Man, well worth the wait, Corran! So, he died a man, at least... although to be honest, tests like that never sat well with me for any culture. I guess I'm too much of a team player. Awesome feel through the entire post, and awesome to see Eclan here too. Just hope it's not too long before the next post. -----signature----- E-married to the wonderful DarthIshtar. Now also her Padawan. Member of the Y.J.K. Revolution Staring into the Darkness http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/27537567/p1/?23
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Corran_Fett Registered: Jan '05	Date Posted: 7/2/07 5:21am Subject: RE: When Few Stood Against Many [NJO thriller; OCs, Mandalorians, Vong] - Updated, Chapter 3--July 1
	RK_Striker_JK_5 posted: Man, well worth the wait, Corran! Glad to hear. RK_Striker_JK_5 posted: So, he died a man, at least... Yep, looks like it. You will see more on that matter in the next chapter. RK_Striker_JK_5 posted: although to be honest, tests like that never sat well with me for any culture. Actually, same goes for me. I don't see a reason for such stupid trials, and maybe that's one reason why I made it turn out that way... maybe.... RK_Striker_JK_5 posted: Awesome feel through the entire post, and awesome to see Eclan here too. Just hope it's not too long before the next post. Thanks a lot, I'm glad you enjoyed it. And I hope so as well, problem is just that Eclan and his two companions will make for a major part of the next chapter (since they're only a cameo, they'll probably disappear after that again), and thus I need to flesh things out with QM, who is unfortunately rather busy. I really don't wanna blame anything on him, there's nothing greater than such a collaboration, but the major part of the chapter was actually finished some two months ago. Anyway, where is everyone else? I fear I have lost my readership, courtesy to my delay... -----signature----- The other side of the NJO, featuring Mandalorians, Vong, and Peace Brigaders in a thrillride full of betrayal and intrigue... When Few Stood Against Many \| http://boards.theforce.net/b/b10477/25253415/ - http://corranfett.deviantart.com -
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VaderLVR64 Title: Fan Fic Manager in Combat Boots Registered: Feb '04	Date Posted: 7/2/07 7:54am Subject: RE: When Few Stood Against Many [NJO thriller; OCs, Mandalorians, Vong] - Updated, Chapter 3--July 1
	I read this earlier and didn't get a chance to respond. OOPS. Anyway, a powerful update! And this certainly was a vivid image! "Tell me what happened on Contruum, subaltern!" The commander was rather barking than talking now. "NOW!" Lian gulped, but didn't waver. "They got the bait, but instead of devouring it with a single bite, they vivisected it and only snapped the tasty parts." He paused, wondering if his metaphoric speech was such a good idea. "Only one Brigader and the two Slayers survived, so far, but latter are in jeopardy and face additional reinforcements to the hostile group." He paused, not feeling able to actually phrase this. "One of them is a Jeedai." Ugh. But I loved it. -----signature----- If you have to choose between tears and laughter, remember that laughter burns more calories. Proud New Army Mom - off to bootcamp!
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Quiet_Mandalorian Registered: Apr '05	Date Posted: 7/2/07 5:32pm Subject: RE: When Few Stood Against Many [NJO thriller; OCs, Mandalorians, Vong] - Updated, Chapter 3--July 1
	Striking chapter, Corran. Full review coming soon! -----signature----- I killed them. I killed them all. They're dead. Every single one of them... ...and not just the mechs, but the femmes and the protoforms too. They're like Sharkticons, and I slaughtered them like Sharkticons! I hate them! ~Rodakin Primewalker
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Corran_Fett Registered: Jan '05	Date Posted: 7/3/07 5:34am Subject: RE: When Few Stood Against Many [NJO thriller; OCs, Mandalorians, Vong] - Updated, Chapter 3--July 1
	VaderLVR64 posted: Anyway, a powerful update! [...] But I loved it. Thanks a lot, I'm glad you liked it! VaderLVR64 posted: And this certainly was a vivid image! "Tell me what happened on Contruum, subaltern!" The commander was rather barking than talking now. "NOW!" Lian gulped, but didn't waver. "They got the bait, but instead of devouring it with a single bite, they vivisected it and only snapped the tasty parts." He paused, wondering if his metaphoric speech was such a good idea. "Only one Brigader and the two Slayers survived, so far, but latter are in jeopardy and face additional reinforcements to the hostile group." He paused, not feeling able to actually phrase this. "One of them is a Jeedai." Ugh. Hehehe... one of my rare metaphors, and looks like it worked. I hoped someone would pick that one up, so good to see it worked out. Quiet_Mandalorian posted: Striking chapter, Corran. Vor entye, ner jate vod! Quiet_Mandalorian posted: Full review coming soon! Heh, looking forward to that. It'll be great to have you back on board. And I take it that you've got it a little less busy now again, now that you're back active? Do you wish further contact via PM, instead of email? -----signature----- The other side of the NJO, featuring Mandalorians, Vong, and Peace Brigaders in a thrillride full of betrayal and intrigue... When Few Stood Against Many \| http://boards.theforce.net/b/b10477/25253415/ - http://corranfett.deviantart.com -
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