Muur’F’laar - Death Before Dishonor

“The conversion of Mandalore from the greatest clan of warriors ever known to a society of limp wristed pacifists represents the single greatest threat to the F’laarian Clan and Muur’F’laar (the Way of the Warrior) that we have encountered in our history...” - S’ruurn F’laar, Grand Marshal

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Bright strobing light combined with the pealing of the battle alert aboard the Togorian Privateer M’rruuv Lrowwl (Void Stalker), the two combining into a signal that was sure to awake even the deepest sleeping Togorian aboard ship.

The Captain, S’ruul F’laar, a 2.9 meter mass of charcoal fur with black stripes appeared to instantly spring from his bunk, almost colliding with the cabin door as its hydraulics slammed it open at his rapid approach.

Gaining the bridge, S’ruul’s steady gaze took in his First Mate, who immediately snapped off “Three Fast Corvettes sir, their beacons are indicating they’re Weequay under Tagta the Hutt, 5 kilometers off the starboard bow. They’re blocking the hyperspace entry points for our primary and secondary Fleet RVs.”

“We probably shouldn’t have hit that spice freighter yesterday with Hutt support so close...” S’ruul responded dryly, as the lights dimmed slightly in concert with the shuddering of the cruiser as a spread of torpedos impacted its shields.

Taking his seat, S’ruul calmly continued “...flush the primary and secondary RV hyperspace computations and get the computers working on the coordinates for the tertiary and quaternary RVs. Full shields forward, and get the lasers firing on the lead Weequay ship.”

As if on cue, the thumping of the Lrowwl’s array of heavy laser turrets reverberated throughout the ship, and the lead enemy’s shields flared crimson under the onslaught as the Lrowwl began a turn for the approximate heading of the tertiary RV’s entry point.

S’ruul’s voice cut through the rumbling of impacts on the hull and shields, snapping “I need that solution!”, just as the fullisade of lasers from the Lrowwl burned through the front shields on the lead Weequay ship, followed quickly by an expanding plasma bubble as the enemy ship’s reaction mass exploded. In response, the volume of fire from the remaining two ships increased as their Captains risked burning out their power relays in a race to be the first to destroy the interloping pirate ship.

“Primary impacts on the hull sir, we have breaches in multiple compartments.” S’ruul winced internally at the desperation in the Operations Officer’s voice. The lights flickered and then went out, accompanied by a heavy cascade of sparks from a power node on one of the Bridge’s aft bulkheads. As support personnel scrambled to get main power rerouted, S’ruul gave a toothy grin as the second Weequay Corvette exploded. “We may yet get out of this mess...” S’ruul dared to think to himself.

“Sir, hyperspace solution in 15 seconds!” came a relieved voice from the navigation station.

“I need all the weapons and shields you can give me!” S’ruul yelled, “Screw the life support, hell, screw everything but the hyperspace drive and Navi-Comp, just get me more weapons and shields, NOW!”

A green “solution complete” light bathed the face of the Navigation Officer’s face, and in relief, S’ruul raised a hand to order the jump, only to grimace in dismay as the green light snapped back to red and the proximity chime sounded.

Three additional Weequay ships snapped out of hyperspace less than a click in front of the M’rruuv Lrowwl, their shields immediately springing to life and their lasers flickering out to rend the hull of the wounded invader.

“Full power to engines, ram the bastards...” S’ruul growled, his eyes sparkling in anticipation as a loud throaty roar of approval resounded throughout the Bridge.

At such close range, the three newly arrived Weequay ships had little chance of evasion as the Lrowwl rapidly accelerated, it’s engines glowing an intense blue. There was barely a shudder as the Lrowwl impacted it’s tormentor, the gunship’s core penetrating deep into the Togorian Privateer. As the burning wreckage of the gunship penetrated the Privateer's core, the Lrrowl violently exploded, leaving only a single Hutt ship to watch the demise of it’s bretheren as the rapidly expanding ball of incandescent gas enveloped the two nearby ships, instantly turning them into ovens.

For the crew of the M’rruuv Lrowwl, every one a Togorian of the F’laarian Clan, it was an honorable death...