The Gulag

[Loco]

Planet Mandalore
Mirci'Cerar- House Vizsla Gulag
1850 local time
"The Gulag"​

"Uh, everything's under control. Situation normal."

"What happened?"

"Uh, we had a slight weapons malfunction, but uh... everything's perfectly all right now. We're fine. We're all fine here now, thank you. How are you?"

"We're sending a squad up."

"Uh, uh... negative, negative. We had a reactor leak here now. Give us a few minutes to lock it down. Large leak, very dangerous."

"We don't even have a reactor! Who is this? What's your operating number?"

"Uh..."

Mikha'el blasted the console with his stolen carbine.

"Boring conversation anyway... Caed, we're gonna have company." the mandalorian said into the short range comm link the crew had smuggled into the prison. He pulled of the silly looking Mandalorian guard helmet he'd been wearing, glad to be rid of its stink, and dropped it to the ground next to the still twitching body of the man who was supposed to have been working at this console. "How long do you think they'll give-," the question was cut short by a blaring alarm as emergency lights flashed red around the corners of the room. "Well, osik. Suppose luck couldn't carry us forever, eh?"

The plan had come off surprisingly well thus far. The stolen access codes had secured them a landing zone, and the stolen guard uniforms and ID's had carried them well into the prison. It had taken months of work to get this far. The un-inventively named remote mountain prison Mirci'Cerar was not an easy place to gain access to. While the gulag was mostly known as a place for the worst prisoners of the war to rot away in the frozen, rocky wastes, it was also home to those the regime would rather just let the public forget- peoples who's views and rhetoric didn't toe the House line closely enough. People like Ral. Fool should have stuck to the outer rim like the rest of them Mik thought, but he was willing to chalk this mistake up as a learning experience. Words didn't move people. Blasters and swords did.

The knight plopped a heavy duffel bag down on the smoking remains of the console and drug out a smelly black cloak and twisted mask. The Sith truly had no sense of style. He grimaced, but settled the mask over his face and threw the cloak around his shoulder anyway. Then he pulled a gnarled silver rod out of the bag and inspected it closely. It had cost them more than he would have liked and was a pain to get hold of, but anything could be had in the black markets behind the Border Alliances front line if you looked hard enough and had the credits. He felt dirty just touching this thing. At least, Mik thought as he ignited the scarlet blade of the lightsaber, they'd get a good laugh presenting Ral with a bill for his own rescue. He cast a glance at Kex through the eye slit of the mask.

"Come on Bardan. For the Brotherhood of the Sith and the Sacred Band, rah rah rah and all that. Right?"

You could have scooped the sarcasm with a spoon, so heavy was its drip.


@Ral @Ecclessey @Bardan Kex @Arclight

 

[Cavalas Wren]

"I Bantha shit you not" Cavalas crushed his cigarette on the padded armor of the security guard, much to the man's dismay and clacked his tongue as if he was about to teach these guys the finer parts of rocket science "I started up on his six when we pulled through the clouds and then I moved above him." he accompanied the description with flowing handgestures and was looking quite smug as he did it. The three others in the smoking area of the gulag's hangar bay snorted from disbelief and the other pilot's face lightened up in a big tooth-rich grin. "I knew it was a load of Bantha crap. You wouldn't have been able to see the pilot being naked if you were flying above him!" he shook his head, believing the matter was now closed and he had finally dispelled the newcomer's boast into the Sith space.

Cavalas, however, pressed his finger against the temple of his own head and again made the weird clacking sound with his tongue. "But I did see it" he paused "because I was inverted". Now the other pilot completely lost his shit and after another pretended to sneeze as he said "bullshit" the pilot clearly expressed his disbelief "You were in a four G inverted dive with a NX-3, while flying that Nimbus Courier Vessel?"

"That's right" Cavalas grinned and pilfered another cigarette from his newly made friends. The Nimbus Courier was standing behind him, official crest of the Mandalorian Government painted across the hull to complete the ruse needed for Ral's rescue. "And with only a meter and a half in between us, which is to say" another pause as he put the cigarette between his lips "I got to see those Rodian's nipples were hard as hell"

The official response of his comrades was cut short by a sudden and deafening alarm accompanied by annoyingly flashing red lights, giving notice to the entire prison facility that there was an emergency. "Oh Kowakian monkey-lizards and all, that doesn't sound good?"

Two of his three comrades departed without much of a word, dashing from the smoking area and into the hangar bay as if the great intergalactic war depended upon their speedy arrival somewhere. The other one seemed suddenly nervous, "I've been flying up and down to this Gulag three times a day for two decades, never have I seen those lights flash. Then today" his hand moves slowly to the blaster pistol at his belt, thinking that Cavalas wouldn't notice "what did you say your crew came here for?"

Cavalas didn't bother to answer and smashed his fist into the pilot's throat before stepping closer to snap his neck with a fierce jerk. "Not that it matters now" he whispered as he let the lifeless body fall on a nearby bench and closed his eyes, hoping it'd fool people into thinking he was asleep "but it was Ghost Protocol. Directive from the Valkyrie."

 

[Arcangel]

“Caed, we're gonna have company!"

Ceadryn barely heard his companion’s warning shout as he raced down the prison corridor. His heavy footfalls on the durasteel grated were quickly drowned out by the blaring of alarms, ushered in by Mik’s clumsy diplomacy. Up to that point the plan had gone perfectly. Well, perfectly until they hit the holding cell security room.

The guards hadn’t bought their ruse, a prisoner transfer from a nearby wing of the prison. Ceadryn had been certain that Bardan would make a good Sith look alike, being the ugliest and meanest looking member of their group. Apparently he hadn’t been ugly enough, and the ensuing close quarter’s blaster fight had been hectic to say the least.

Now Caedryn searched franticly for his Cousin, Ral, as Bardan and Mikhal held off the coming assault. Dressed in the armor of a prison guard, he failed to notice the body of a dead guard, and promptly tripped over it. The durasteel grating rushed up to meet him. Narrowly catching his fall, he absentmindedly noted the brown discolored stain that his face had narrowly avoided smashing into. Dried blood. This did not bode well for Ral.

“I can’t see a thing in this helmet.” He muttered to himself as he regained his footing. Once again moving along the corridor, this time with a note of caution to his haste. Reaching out in the force as he ran, he searched for any familiarities that might guide him. It didn’t take him long to pinpoint Ral’s signature aura, hazy as it was. Reaching the cell door from which he sensed him, Caedryn fumbled with the stolen keycard, hoping that his luck would hold out.

The door hissed open at the touch of a button. Stepping into the open doorway, Caedryn was greeted by a gruesome sight. Political prison had not treated Ral well, and Caed cocked his head to the side in shock at the condition his cousin was in. He stood in silence for a moment, words unwilling or unable to form in his mouth. One thing was for certain though. Ral was alive. And one step closer to freedom.

@Ral @Bardan Kex

 

[Bardan Kex]

"That'll be the day..." Bardan snarled in response to Mikhal as he removed the long black cloak of a Sith, reveling the simple black robes underneath and the dark metal mask he wore under the hood. He detested the fact that he had to wear these garments and detested even more the lightsaber he carried in place of his own. He grimaced as he re-ignited the Crimson Blade he had minutes ago used to kill a number of the guards, the weapon still carried a force echo of its previous owner and victims, the sooner he could be rid of the thing the better. He supposed he should have been happy this dumb, but well though out dumb plan had made it this far before Mik's improve landed them in hot water, there had been a brief instance before they had boarded the turbo lift then the three of them had though they might be caught. Not to mention that 'hot shot' smuggler's flying always having to show off for them no matter what job they hired him for.

The lights above the turbolift door flickered to life, the white at odds with the Red illumination coming from the emergency lighting and the two Sith Sabers. Bardan turned his attention to the doors, bringing his blade up across his body in anticipation of the opening shots, his eyes following as the lights ticked until they were just one floor down. "Well... here we go."

@Ral

 

[Ral]

Silence. There was only the ringing in his ears to keep him company. In the near perpetual darkness of the prison cell Ral had a lot of time to think to himself. Thinking of why and how he got there, and what he was going to do when he got out of there, and he knew he was getting out of there. Eventually. He'd find a way. It didn't matter if it was in a day or a year, but Ral would escape, and he would bring retribution to those who had caused his incarceration. But for now he simply had to survive and keep his eyes open for his chance. Something which was made difficult by the constant "questioning" sessions the guards liked to put him through. Still, Ral had yet to break, even with the days at a time of no sleep and almost no meals, just enough to keep him alive.

It was like for weeks, months maybe. Ral had lost track of all time in that soundless, lightless room. Only seeing the harsh artificial light from outside when the guards fed him or took him to the interrogation room. Of course they hadn't let him shower, and the only water he came into contact with other than the sparse and precious drinking water he received was the water used to waterboard him, something they rarely did anyways. Needless to say, Ral was filthy and disgusting. His beard had grown somewhat during his imprisonment, nappy a day unkempt, though the lack of nutrients in his diet didn't make it particularly long or thick.

Then there was a noise. Was that blaster fire? His mind must be playing tricks on him. It couldn't have been. Ral told himself quietly that the sleep deprevation was getting to him. Then it happened again, and if was louder, and there were more sounds like it, getting closer. Explosions and shouts accompanied the blaster shots and Ral sat up on his hard metal bunk, unsure what to make of these noises. Though he was weak from his imprisonment, he wouldn't hesitate if the chance to escape presented itself. The Mandalorian waited. Footsteps began to echo off the floor and walls outside; they were drawing nearer.

Then they stopped outside his door. This was it, his chance to escape was finally here. No way would he let this slide through his fingers. Inside his chest his heart was pounding as adrenaline courses through his veins. As the door to his cell opened, Ral flexed the muscled of his legs and prepared to shoot forward. He had managed to get to his feet and take two steps before the form of the man in the doorway took shape. Ral thought his mind was playing tricks on him. Then he began to wonder why his cousin Caedryn was here. For a moment, the paranoia of living in a five by seven box for an extended period took over, and Ral thought that perhaps Caedryn was the reason he was in that cell. Ral knew better though, Caedryn had clearly fought his way to get there. Shaking off that irrational paranoia, Ral stopped in front of his cousin, an emaciated ghost of his former self. Bruises and new scars could be seen through the dirt and grime which covered his skin. A half smirk crossed Ral's face. "Took you long enough. I'm guessing that racket was you?"

Looking around, Ral's blue eyes had to adjust to the light. It was then he realized he was standing barely a foot from his cousin. Turning to look out the cell door, Ral tried to see what was happening. "I assume you have a plan? I hope it involves getting my armor back and releasing some of these prisoners. I'm sure the bastards which put me in here wouldn't want some of these men and women getting back out after what they've experienced in here."

@Loco, @Ecclessey, @Arclight, @Bardan Kex

 

[Arcangel]

“Plan? Well we figured we would sneak in, shoot our way out, shake things up a little.” Smirking underneath his helmet as he handed Ral the Blaster carbine he had been carrying. “Now lets open these prison doors shall we?” Drawing a blaster pistol as he turned away from the open cell door and hurried his way a central control panel. Hearing the racket of blaster rifles firing and lightsabers humming down the corridor, Caedryn hastily punched in commands, causing doors up and down the prison corridor to slide open.

“Now let’s go find your gear. You sure you need it? We can always get you new armor, even paint little flowers all over it.” Joking as he led the way down a side passageway, towards the prison’s secure storage room. If prisoner effects were kept anywhere, they would be there. Behind them, prisoners would be slowly creeping their ways out of the stinking cells in which so many had been left to rot.

 

[Ral]

"Yeah, 'cause that sounds different, fool," Ral replied with a sting, but that light twinkle in his eye that said he was just ribbing his cousin. Looking at the other prison doors as he was handed a blaster carbine, he grinned, "Now that sounds like an excellent idea, cousin. I'm sure these dissidents will enjoy the taste of freedom again. Many will likely want to have a few words with the guards who kept them here, and the government who imprisoned them... As would I."

Gripping his weapon in his naked, skinless cybernetic arm, he looked back at his cousin as the cell doors began to open all over the cell block. A smile crossed his face as he looked back to Caedryn when he mentioned his armor. "We're not leaving here without that flowery little helmet, ya hear?! I'll go to Manda and kill Kad Ha'rangir himself before I forsook that particular bucket. Now, let's get out of here."

Turning to leave, Ral looked back at the prisoners slowly making their way out of their cells. "You are free brother's and sister's, now take up arms and defend yourselves from those who would keep you slaves in this black pit! Join us, and we will help you free Mandalore, and return it to the glorious days of the past!" His voice echoed off the walls of that particular cell block. He hoped his message would spread. He would need volunteers for his plan. A plan he had a great deal of time to devise. With that, Ral turned and joined Caedryn in making their way to the storage room. Firing his blaster only once on their way there at a pair of hapless guards who wandered upon them trying to look for other guards.

Eventually, they reached the secure storage room, and looking at Caedryn he replied, "I hope you have some way of getting through that door, because I don't think our blasters are going to cut it."

 

[Bardan Kex]

The crimson blades thrummed as they danced around Bardan and Mik as they went about their appointed duty. The two force sensitives had surged forth towards the door way when it had opened, the Guards on the other side had thought to fling concussion and stun grenades into the seized control nexus and the two warriors had anticipated such a move. Channeling the force the two men had intercepted the cylinders and had flung them back through the door way, they could hear even feel, the panic of the Guards at the sight. Some of them froze, others took off the opposite direction and a few had panicked and ran towards the blades of the two false Sith. It was just one more mistake the lax guards had made this day and unfortunately it would be the last for most of them. Bardan took no pleasure in the reaping to be done, it was the logical choice, their lives for the life of his friend. A fair price. As the last of the foolish guards fell he turned towards Mik. "Move! Fall back to the others, more are coming."

It wasn't the reinforcements he should have been concerned with, one of those few guards to have not been taken care of by the concussion and stun grenades had peaked around the door with his baster raised. Bardan sensed him too late, he turned to deflect the shot as Mik called it out, and though the shot would only partially connect with his left shoulder it still staggered him. His anger, a weakness that always lurked just below the surface surged to the forefront, anger at the guard, anger at Mik and most importantly anger at the himself for letting his guard down. His left arm shot out as the right hung limply at his side, the saber falling to the floor, his fingers curled in the air as though he was choking the man and the guard responded. He dropped his blaster clawing at his neck as though to pry invisible fingers from his neck, Bardan squeezed harder before suddenly clenching his fist, crushing the mans neck as more blaster bolts shot down the hallway. He felt Mik's hand on his shoulder and could have sworn the man had said something along the lines of needing to move now. He nodded, releasing the corpse and running down the other way towards the others. As he reached them he'd slump against the wall clutching his shoulder, a grimace of pain across his hooded face and a wave of disgust washed over himself at so casually giving into the darker side of the force, it had been sometime since he had last done so.