The four new Mandalorians presence had changed their plans considerably, as for reasons of security for the time being and to properly educate them and their respective families on the Way, they had to maintain both visual and vocal connection. The four Hunters, and all their respective families, were piled up onto three Yachts, each one of them apparently brimming with weaponry from this world. To keep in contact, Marcus had left Pearl to drive the MRAP while he busied himself diligently on the three boats, using his jetpack to travel from one to another whenever need be, while Midnight and Pearl used video chat to maintain communication and drove along the coast, though Midnight usually only kept online with voice communication and didnt bother with video on account of Ruby being unable to drive in his place. They taught them everything there was to being Mandalorians, taught them the Way, the Suppercommando Codex, the Canons of Honor, their history... everything that they could teach with the limited space, materials and equipment at their disposal.

It had been roughly ten hours since they left the ruins of Orroio behind, eleven since they gave the dead their last rites and did what they could for their burials, twelve since the Hunters declared their new allegiances. Ruby, taking her genius with advanced technology in mind, allowed her to play around with his disruptor after taking the cell out. Wasn't so dangerous once it had no ammo, right? It amazed him nonetheless how she could just engross herself so passionately, so singlemindedly when it came to taking in new tech, and the fact that she was already starting to draw up the rough schematics of a disruptor was nothing short of astonishing, even if her drawing skills on said manner were practically next to nonexistent. Nevertheless, he could still understand what she was putting down, and while he could see she was missing a few things, she still had the right idea, being at least close enough to right that with a little refinement, a little closer study, she'd be right on track.

"Mand'alor, we have a situation." A voice came over the voice chat, this one belonging clearly to Pearl Black. Despite having broke the news that Ne'tra translated to Black, and that Marcus was very much THE Master Assassin Marcus Black, they still remained loyal, after learning the significance behind his armor being the silvery color it was. "There's a roadblock up ahead, man-made. I see some people manning the barricades, too."

"Stay the course, Pearl. Heinsmann, give me some intel on this region." He ordered simply, turning attention to their resident expert on the region.

"Bandits frequent this road, Mand'alor, especially since it's a dirt road that sees at least relatively consistent usage from lesser armed individuals." He informed, drawing a simple nod out of him as he turned his head to look Pearl, who he could see looking expectantly at him through her own dirver's door window, and gave her a simple nod. "Standard procedure for Hunters travelling on this road is to just smash through. Government doesn't recommend stopping for anyone along this road unless you see Vale or Atlas flags up."

"And neither is present. Pearl, my MRAP has superior armor. Fall behind us, use the opening I create and keep going."

"Affirmative." Within just a few seconds, she'd fully fallen behind him, ready to roll through behind their impromptu battering ram. The people behind the makeshift barricades must've realized just then what they were doing, and scrambled for their weapons before unloading a volley of concentrated gunfire on his truck. It did little to nothing against his MRAP's superior armor, and the barricades gave way like paper mache as he smashed through. Muted screams could be heard from outside as several bandits were sent reeling, others crushed beneath the weight of his vehicle and the collapsing barricades and others injured by the splintering debris of their makeshift barriers.

And within only ten seconds, they'd cleared the Bandits' road block and were on their way. Their current destination was another port-based town, although reportedly this one was more akin to a small city. This time there would actually be sufficient defense to stave off an attack, as here there wasn't only more hunters than before, but a dedicated police force... and the last person on his list that he needed to bring into the fold...

"Welcome to Alexandria, Mand'alor!" Marcus introduced him to the city as he rolled up to the gates. The three Yachts were currently docking at the harbor, and those families were seeing about getting enough supplies to last them to their next destination. It had been sixteen hours since their departure, and just about everyone was ready to hold up for awhile. "Don't worry about checking in, the people here know me pretty well."

He simply nodded as he helped Ruby out of the truck, carrying her along as he usually did as they approached the gate. He couldn't clearly make out what Marcus was saying as he spoke to the police force there, but it was clear that he'd said something funny or something like that by the way he was laughing with them. After about another minute, Marcus jogged back, gave him a thumbs up, and flew over to his MRAP, dropping in to the open top hatch.

Not a moment too soon, those gates opened, and beckoned them to come through...

"Pays to make friends, eh Mand'alor?" Marcus laughed through the voice chat, drawing a muted chuckle from him as he drove on through, following each direction from Mrs. Black all the way to their destination, somewhat in the center of the city though closer to the harbor than the gate.

It was a hole in the wall sort of shop, simply titled "Maximilian Smithy." The front was pretty much all glass, save for the supports, though the glass was too foggy to see through, as if it were only minimally maintained. Supposedly, this is where the only other Mandalorian on the planet was, and apparently they had the means and know-how to work Beskar...

Propping the door open, he was greeted by an... interesting sight. The face of the smithy was concealed by a welding mask with a one-way glass visor, and they were kitted head-to-toe in a sort of fire-retardant suit...

"The face of a fellow child of Mandalore I cannot forget, though your armor is foreign..." The voice was, even if somewhat distorted, feminine, though easily assertive and tougher than the others he'd met on this planet so far. "So. What brings you to my shop, brother?"

"I'll cut to the chase. I am Midnight, Mand'alor. Marcus has told me you have the means and knowledge to work Beskar." Midnight informed. Marcus would've come, but the four hunters has pinged him, citing that they were finding trouble in finding a suitable place to act as an HQ while there. "He also said you were something of an oddball."

"Ah, so you seek to bring The Way to this world, is that it?" She inquired, setting her tools down upon the table she stood behind.

"The Supercommando Codex and the Canons of Honor, yes... however, I still fail to see what makes you an oddball."

"My demeanor is not what makes myself differ from you, rather my clan. I am an Armorer of the Children of the Watch. As Marcus and many other of our kin believe, my kind are a sort of cult." She explained, stepping around the corner and offering him her hand. He gladly shook it with his free hand, since his left was preoccupied with holding up Ruby. "Although, if you'd indulge me, why are you the one stepping up as Mand'alor, and not Marcus?"

"Could I not ask you the same question?"

"Hm. A fair answer, if evasive. Very well. If you are Mand'alor, then I will follow. This is the way." She nodded to him, bringing him a small smirk under his mask as he'd finally get to return the phrase he had so long wanted to.

"This is the way." He notices her look him up and down, before shaking her head and turning back to the forge.

"I see your armor is not made of Beskar. This is unfortunate, though not impossible to remedy." She spoke, before approaching the wall and opening a panel along it. She typed a few lines of code in, before closing the panel and stepping through a doorway that revealed itself in the wall as soon as the code was in. "My forge for working Beskar is below. Follow me, I have just enough Beskar to make a full copy of your armor, and your own aura blade."

"Aura blade?" He inquired, receiving a small chuckle in return from the Armorer.

"This world is home to many a wonder, Mand'alor, with aura being one such thing. As it would so happen, it channels through Beskar effortlessly. Unlike with steel, or any other material for that matter, there is no resistance. Paired with certain semblances, the use of a Beskar weapon serves as an excellent addition to one's armory." She explained, taking a blade off a rack as she stepped off the last stair and into a large, circular room. She demonstrated wordlessly, allowing her blade to sheathe itself in a sort of light blue energy shielding. Nodding to him, she turned towards a large block of steel roughly a meter cubed in size, and slashed horizontally into it. His eyes widened as the blade bit deep, and seemingly without effort it buried itself halfway through chopping it in half...

"That weapon reminds me of the Jedi's laser swords with how easily it cuts into things... but I do not have this magical 'aura' or 'semblance' that others here have."

"It is a simple matter of unlocking it, though I admittedly do not know how to unlock another's." She explained, before setting it back upon it's rack and stepping up to the forge. "That blade is mine, forged with my own aura poured into it. It reacts to me, and no one else. As you do not yet have an aura, we'll see to forging yours later."

"Fair enough. Though in the MRAPs up on the surface, we have markedly more Beskar that you could work with, and our new Remnant-born brethren need armor of their own, helmets for the foundlings before I receive my own armor." Midnight declared, knowing he must put the fledgling clan's needs before his own. This drew a muted laugh out of the Armorer, making him cock his head to the side in slight confusion.

"It is good to put the clan's welfare before your own. Very well. This is the Way... Nonetheless, I would be remiss if I didn't at least put some Beskar on you. It's unbecoming of a Mandalorian to not have at least some Beskar on them forged by Mandalorian hands."

"The supplementary armor over my breastplate is already made of Beskar, Armorer." he informed, making her stare at him as she looked up from her tools.

"Of Mandalorian make?"

"...no. A private company on Coruscant. Not Mandalorians."

"Then it is moot. I will reforge your helmet, then. Surrender it, I will scan and begin my work." She announced, making him hesitate slightly. "You are not of the Children of the Watch, so it should not be anathema for others to see your face."

"Come to think of it... I've never seen your face, Mister Midnight..." Ruby finally spoke up, drawing his attention. She gave him a sort of puppy-eyes look, though it didn't necessarily phase him as he looked back to the Armorer.

"It's less of that and more I just don't like showing my face... No matter, I'm wearing a balaclava anyways." He stated, before setting Ruby down and taking his helmet off. True to his word, beneath his helmet, he wore a black balaclava made of the same material as his bodyglove, that covered everything except his eyes. Wordlessly, he turned his helmet over to the Armorer, who gave it a once-over with a cocked head, before nodding and throwing it into some machine along the back wall behind the forge.

"This process will take some time. Until then, you should call our new brothers over, have them bring the other Foundlings you mentioned. That way, I can outfit them too..."

He'd done just as instructed, though they hadn't arrived until after the scan was complete and the forging process underway. So, he rested on his knees before the forge, patiently waiting for the Armorer to finish her work. The others all stood back and watched after having unloaded all the Beskar and brought it down alongside their families, the new Foundlings. In total, counting only the new Mandalorians and their families, there were 12 child Foundlings, Ruby and Mercury being two of them, ten adults counting one's cousin that lived with them and Pearl, and two infants. All except the infants would be receiving helmets of their own, those two would receive them once they were a little older, that was all.

Finally, after a fair deal of time, the Armor stepped away from the forge, his helmet reforged in the sterling silver, waving metal with a few key differences. The Rangefinder had remained in place, though as an addition to the helmet, he assumed as a show of seniority, a visor like Commander Cody's was present just over the helmet's glass visor, which had also changed slightly, back to the Jaig Eyes design that the original phase one armor and traditional Mandalorian helmets held, and the indented cheeks were more angular this time. He remained kneeling as she slid the helmet over his head, only standing once she finished her work.

"You should know, there is meaning behind the colors we don, Mand'alor." The Armor began as he stood, looking him in the eyes with her own visor. She'd since changed out of her more common-looking blacksmith outfit and into one far more Mandalorian in appearance. Her helmet was bronze, with a sort of Y-like visor in shape, the owl style, he recognized it as, and she wore a maroon breastplate. The rest of her gear was made up of durable gambesons and the pelts and furs of what looked to be mighty beasts, once. "Using Marcus as an example, he used to wear green and yellow... duty and remembrance, respectively. Now he wears silver, showing he is seeking redemption for having lost his way. You, however, wear white, blue and gray... purity, reliability, and mourning a lost love."

"I know this." Midnight responded, cracking his neck in a cascading roll of pops as he cocked his head left and right. "The color choices are not coincidental save for white. White was the traditional standard for the clone army." He'd explained his own origins and current galactic events while she forged before the others had arrived, filling her in on everything new that she needed to know.

"I see. Very well. Now that you are done, who shall be next?"

"The kid, Ruby. She will be next." He announced, gesturing for Ruby to move up which she promptly did. She looked somewhat nervous and uncomfortable, but he deduced that this would be a fine starting point for the girl to learn how to work despite discomfort, be it physical or otherwise.

"Understood. Child, what colors do you wish for?"

"I umm... I don't know what they mean..." She squeaked as she shifted in place with incredibly obvious nervousness. The Armorer turned to look Midnight in the eyes, a sort of unspoken question shot his way that he didn't exactly have an excuse for.

"I've not taught her that yet. Her focus has been on other aspects of our culture and history so far."

"...I see... No matter, it is of no immediate importance, and our time is plentiful. For now, I'll have you choose a helmet design." She pulled up a sheet of laminated paper with nine helmet styles on it with one of them X'd out with marker, though Ruby was quick to notice something off...

"What about da- I mean... What about mister Midni- er... Mand'alor's helmet design? It's not here?" She asked, drawing a small chuckle from those present.

"Because his helmet is not a traditional Mandalorian helmet, it's one I've never seen before today. Nevertheless, his is an exception to the norm. For now, the options stand as such. Classic, Outcast, Stalker, Executioner, Elite, Nevarro, Owl, and Pilot. Normally, Deathwatch would also be an available choice... however, given the history between them and Jango Fett whom our current Mand'alor is descendant of, I deemed it in ill taste to include such." She explained, before allowing Ruby to continue looking over it.

It took a few minutes, but Ruby eventually settled on the Elite style helmet. It was a variant of the Classic helmet like Jango's or Marcus's, except hers would have more angular cheek indents as opposed to the rounded ones they had. She chose it because in her own words, it was the most akin to Mand'alor's new helmet. She chose to do away with the separate Rangefinder attachment, having it integrated into the helmet, and she also chose to have a field visor like the Mand'alor's own, to keep a feeling of similarity.

After all the specifics of her choices were in, Ruby knelt as instructed before the forge, sitting as patiently as Midnight had as the Armorer crafted her helmet for her. It was done markedly quicker than Midnight's was, if on part of her design being of a template she had the molds for, and after two hours of forging, the helmet was finally placed upon Ruby's head, sliding right on with no issues at all. The padding inside was, of course, made of the finest she had access to, the stuff the Armor set aside in case there were ever new Mandalorians needing new equipment or in case Marcus needed to replace his.

"Wow... this is heavy..." Ruby lightly complained, receiving a hand on the shoulder from Midnight, and a nod of approval that she cherished as soon as she looked up to meet his gaze. "But... I can get used to it."

"With the available Beskar, how much do you think you could make, Armorer?" Midnight inquired, receiving a shrug from the woman.

"Helmets for all, pauldrons for those fully fledged Mandalorians. The rest of the Beskar should be held in reserve for if we pick up more fledglings along the way to our ultimate destination." She informed him, with an understanding nod being his response before he turned around to speak with Marcus.

"Marcus, you said you were able to help them find a suitable headquarters, yes?"

"Yeah, should be suitable for all our needs. The Armorer has two LMTVs for all her stuff, so I chose it with that in mind. There's listings for locations exclusive to Hunters here, specifically so that they can stage larger operations and bring in a lot of supplies for such. As these four are licensed, it was easy to find one that would suit our needs." He explained, before Aaron stepped forward and cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Mand'alor, forgive the interruption, but Alexandria is home to many Hunters. Though there's no full teams here to our knowledge, I'm already familiar with a good handful of warriors here that embody many Mandalorian values without knowing it, mostly veterans. I'm sure that if we showed what we can do, many would be eager to join us." He informed, making both himself and Midnight scratch their chins in deep contemplation...

"Hm... chances are the city will come under attack while we rest up here. Depending on how long we're here, it'll likely be several attacks, too. Time enough to make an impression enough to catch the attention of the worthy, and see what they themselves can do... Armorer, how long until all the equipment is finished?" Marcus mused, before shooting the question back to the resident Child of the Watch.

"Twenty one helmets, four pairs of Pauldrons, if you, Mand'alor, wish for Pauldrons yourself, five. Your helmet took five hours due to the obvious, but the others should only be about two to three hours each. It will be several days before I can outfit all of them with that which they need, not even taking into account the undersuits they'd need for the pauldrons and the steel plate they'll be wearing. If you want me to focus on equipping those fully fledged first, I can have them all fully equipped with everything within eighteen to twenty four hours."

"Prioritize our fighting force's equipment first, can the forge upstairs make components for regular blasters?" Midnight inquired, receiving a nod from the woman.

"All the components are there as well, though you'd need someone intimately familiar with circuitry and the sort for the more sensitive internal components."

"In that regard I'll be the most helpful." It was Pearl, surprisingly, who announced this. "I've familiarized myself with your weapons technology thanks to my husband, including that of disruptors. His current disruptor rifle is of my design, in fact. Say the word, and I'll get to work, Mand'alor." Midnight simply waved for her to follow. With no more words needed, everyone kicked themselves into gear, all knowing exactly what was needed of them...

They only went to their newly-chosen HQ once all their warriors' gear was completed as well as Mercury's helmet, which was Nevarro Style that had reinforcement atop the helmet in a kind of mohawk shape running from forehead to back, and it incorporated an integrated rangefinder like Ruby's. Otherwise, Aaron had chosen the Classic Style Armor, his wife, Rikka, had chosen the Owl Style, while the two brothers opted for Stalker Style. All their Helmets were Beskar, and their pauldrons as well, though his own were a copy of his previous in design, it gained a reinforced trim akin to the Nevarro style's. However, the rest of their armor remained a simple steel, as was the same with their jetpacks being the same plating, save for Midnight's, which was the normal plastoid alloy all clones used. The most notable thing however, was that all four were equipped with disruptor rifles and two blaster pistols, wrist-mounted flamethrowers on their left wrist, micro-missiles on their right. For the immediate moment, Marcus was the only one who's jetpack could fire a missile, if only for time constraints.

The Armorer had moved all her forge equipment in her LMTVs, with the help of everyone else to make it a smooth transition, and set it up at the new location within just a few hour, maybe three tops, and immediately got to work making the helmets meant for everyone else. Their new HQ was the top three floors and rooftop of a 50 storey building, granting enough room for everyone to have their own space, as well as a large portion of the parking lot beneath the building. Only once everyone had their respective clearance cards and the sort did they move to take everything from the Yachts into the buildings, which was another eight hour process to clear everything of value.

They all rested for another eight or so hours, doing nothing notably significant in that time other than regaining strength lost from so many hours sleep deprived. Eventually, though, all six warriors found themselves alone atop the rooftop, readily discussing their next move...

"We should hunker down for a bit, take some time to recuperate, consolidate resources and build a proper plan... Besides, the larger we grow, the more of... well... everything, we're gonna need. More money, raw resources, food, medical supplies, transport... We could all accept hunter work, there's never really any shortage of it in Alexandria." Aaron declared, his voice slightly distorted by his helm.

"If we get a move on now, move fast and don't give our pursuers a chance to catch up like we currently are, we might be able to lose them. Sure, we won't grow as fast like that, but we'll get to our destination quicker, and can focus on bringing more into the fold then." Rikka countered, though Marcus seemed to shake both ideas off.

"We can't afford to pass up the opportunity to strengthen the Mando'ade... but for the time being, nor can we afford to reside in one place for too long. You both raise good points, but ultimately the decision is Mand'alor's." Marcus stated flatly, arms crossed as he bounced the argument over to their leader, who utilized the time in between their gear being made to properly dye his helmet and pauldrons back to looking like his original.

"With our current numbers and equipment, I'd say we're overdue for a good fight. Our enemies are hot on our tails as it is, but every time we beat them back, they lose some ground in their pursuit, and those that follow have to find the lost trail, giving us time. We'll remain here a week, give them the fight they're so eager for every time they ask for it while we're here, accept contracts to build up our resources and capital. After that time is up, we'll pack up and move out, with everyone we bring in here, any vehicles, and all the supplies we've gathered by then." Midnight finalized, before looking down at the city below. His combat pack had been replaced with a jetpack, at least temporarily, just in case he slipped and fell or a threat presented itself and he needed to haul ass into the fray. He nodded to himself, before looking towards the gates and picking out a growing commotion at the gate. Dropping his rangefinder, he observed as the situation quickly escalated, with weapons being drawn on both sides, and eventually even Grimm coming out of the woods behind those causing the commotion, hanging back as if they were waiting for permission to engage. Looking down at the city again, he noticed a fair number of heavily armed individuals, and armored vehicles, all rushing over to the scene, obviously called to action by the front gate. Chuckling darkly, Midnight drew both blasters and slowly nodded as he pinged the incoming warzone to his fellow Mandalorians. "Hah... Yeah, if they want a fight, we'll give e'm one... MANDO'ADE! SHEKEMIR NI AT AKAAN!" He roared, leaping off the building with his five brethren hot on his heels just as the sirens of a Grimm attack began to roar all around them...

Despite the presence of twenty four hunters, armored assets and a hundred guns, the sheer volume of Grimm and the dozens of warriors leading them had almost totally overwhelmed the defenders within mere minutes once the attack began. Though they fought hard, the force of sheer attrition had already taken a toll on the defenders of the gate, and with the aerial attack from a dozen elder Nevermore and the threat presented inside the city from Grimm scaling the walls and those burrowing underneath, there would be no reinforcements inbound, and they all knew it. Coupled with a great many scores of Elder Grimm backing the attacking the gate, it was no surprise that the defenses were being sundered so hard...

"HOLD THE LINE!" A Veteran warrior roared as he deflected an incoming poleaxe with his offhand shortsword, using the opening to skewer his opponent on his longer mainhand arming sword through the chest. Kicking his opponent down, he was instantly faced with another foe that threw him back with a punch to the chest. Digging both blades into the earth to halt his recoil, he looked up just in time to register and react to the next attack, ripping both blades out of the earth and lunging forward diagonally, slashing back and catching his opponent behind the knees and dropping them to the earth. It failed to break their aura, but with his semblance amplifying his strength, he set his blades in an underhanded grip and stabbed down into his opponent's chest, slicing straight through their aura and puncturing their heart and lungs, dooming them as they gurgled pathetically beneath him.

Looking back to the fray, he watched a young boy, a fresh graduate of Beacon, get swallowed by a veritable wave of Grimm just as he decapitated a faunas foe. He was snuffed out in an instant, with shredded limbs and intestines being flung out from any gaps in the horde, each trailing their own stream of blood, and a handful of police followed him in death as an alpha beowulf leapt through the mass and with a single swipe of it's clawed hand, rend all of them to bits being yeeted away with the force of the blow. Not far away, he watched as a young girl that had only held the title of huntress for two years was pulled down from behind, surrounded and pinned down, and finally, hacked to pieces all within three seconds. She hadn't even gotten a chance to scream before she was dead, and yet they kept hacking, stabbing and slashing away, laughing the whole way like a mob of psychopaths.

He felt a chill run down his spine, reacting out of sharpened and honed instinct, he slid a foot back and slashed back horizontally, decapitating three of the lunatics that tried to sneak behind him with little effort. Casting his gaze into the battle once more, he grit his teeth as with each passing moment, more and more of his allies fell in increasingly horrific and agonizing ways...

"Gods... If there's some god or gods out there... please, deliver us!" He roared to the heavens, before deflecting an incoming rapier and sidestepping the thrusting opponent, plunging both blades through their back, lifting them overhead, and ripping the woman in half with the flats of his blades. Casting his gaze towards a battle cry to his right, he beheld an incoming warhammer from where he was exposed. With his aura so low and no time to dodge, he knew even a half-assed swing from such a weapon would take his head off, so, shutting his eyes hard he embraced his fate...

*BZZZT!*

Then, with a faint wave of passing heat, the attack never reached him, the warhammer instead flying past his head with the uncontrolled momentum and only lightly slapping him across the nose with the end of the shaft. Opening his eyes, he watched with awe as he only saw fleeting dust where there was an enemy. Believing he must've gone mad, he rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times, only to notice a veritable barrage of crimson lasers lancing through from above, each one reducing another enemy to dust in an instant.

From above, six armor-clad angels of death descended upon wings of fire into the battlefield, their disintegration rifles firing full auto into the mass of foes and forcing them back in clouds of the dust of their own allies. He gaped as the six mighty warriors touched down, their jetpacks scorching the ground beneath them. Their barrage continued unimpeded by the mass of foes nor their strength, for both the common Grimm drones and the Alphas each fell with but a single shot from their mighty weapons. For a whole minutes, they drove the enemy back effortlessly, ash filled the air as man, faunas and Grimm alike all were reduced to dust at a pace faster than anyone present could comprehend, before eventually, the hissing of steam being ejected from their disintegration rifles told the inevitable tale of their arms overheating. And yet, the warriors seemed to fear not, simply stowing the weapons along the small of their backs before each drew two pistols from holsters on their thighs and used their jetpacks to launch themselves forward.

He thought for sure that they would die, directly engaging that kind of a mass of enemies that still remained, only to gasp in awe as they all pulled up at the last moment, allowing themselves to soar just over the horde's reach as they scattered grenades across the masses as they passed, shooting upwards as they came to the end and darting back to the front. The cascading explosions scattered and broke the mass of Grimm, reducing them to little more that a scattered mob just in time for the Angels of War to set down and raise their left wrists in unison save for one of them that seemed different than the rest that doubled further back and drew some sort of long rifle from his back, while the others each unleashed a massive cone of fire into the broken horde. It created a veritable wall of flames across the ground, and immolated man and beast alike, breaking everything before them down in a raging inferno.

The different one lowered down to a knee, before looking down the sight of his rifle and squeezing the trigger. The blue bolt raced through the chaos, ripping straight through the bone faceplate of an Ursa Major, immediately followed by a second bolt doming and killing an Alpha Beowulf, and a third punching through the smoke and blowing a Beringel's arm off, the following two blowing it's other one off before racing through it's raised head's softer area under the jaw as it roared in pain, lancing through and liquefying it's brain.

Not missing a beat, the warrior swapped the power cell unbelievably fast, and dropped another five bolts into the horde, each killing another elder before he swapped cells again, somehow even faster than before. The five up closer to the horde swapped from flamethrowers to blasters, firing indiscriminately into the broken mass and killing with armored impunity. Stray bullets and other projectiles pinged harmlessly off helmets and pauldrons, though anywhere else on he armor they notably raised their auras for, while they marched forward and easily struck down any any all opposition that barred their path. Laughing uneasily, he stood fully upright and raised his blades overhead...

"Haaa... HUNTERS! C'MON, WE CAN'T LET THIS SHAMEFUL RABBLE BREAK US! CHAAAAAAARGE!" He roared, successfully rallying the remaining defenders outside the six newcomers into the counterstrike. As if spurred on by their resolve, the sniper stowed his rifle and drew both blaster pistols, charging into the fray guns blazing, roaring out his own battle cry...

"AT AKAAN, VODE!" His cry was met by the other five, who all redoubled their efforts, spurred on by his own resolve to meet his cry in kind.

"FOR MAND'ALOR!" They met his booming warcry, unleashing their fury upon their enemies alongside the defenders and driving their shared and mutually hated foes back in a furious storm of vengeance. Without hesitation, they flung themselves now unto the jaws of death reconsolidating their strength and sundering them as they rallied. It felt like hours passed to the defenders with each minute, and yet they lost none of their renewed vigor as they tore through the black mass of fangs, claws, talons, blades and bone fearlessly, concerned now with only making the enemy suffer under their own rage...

Though it felt like many hours had passed to the beleaguered defenders, in reality the siege had only lasted about an hour and a half, a hundred minutes at the absolute most. The smell of blood, metal, burning flesh and ash permeated through the air and corpses in various states of intactness littered the ground, some of them unrecognizable with how mangled they were, and this was true for both friend and foe alike. Nonetheless, the six warriors still stood in all their glory, triumphant over the enemy. They quietly wondered whether the warriors had even needed them, for with just how incredible they were, what did their contribution even mean?

"For not being Mandalorians, you all fought well. We're honored to have fought alongside you all today." The one with armor so different from the rest announced, seemingly being the leader. "Those that joined the fray into close combat today are maybe even cut from the same cloth as we are."

This brought a collective gasp of shock from the remaining Hunters, as the ten who joined the melee stood proudly among the rest. The battle was indeed a brutal one, and though they might not have realized it, Midnight knew that without the help from the rest of the defenders, specifically the ones that joined him and his brothers in the fray, he would've either lost a brother or two, and without their collective assistance, he and his would've ultimately been overwhelmed just as the original defenders were being when they arrived. He knew that if anyone here was made of Mandalorian grit, it was those that joined him in the heart of the battle.

"I am Midnight. Mand'alor, the leader of the Remnant Mandalorians. The battle is won, though I'll admit, I do feel guilty about this. These psychopaths only attacked because a child I took into my care is here. I regard her as my... protégé, and I will protect her at any cost... though I am sorry, for the death and destruction wrought upon you all for it." The man in armor of white, blue and gray announced, showing himself true as the leader. They all nodded in understanding, seemingly having already known of his plight.

"We know... We know. Marcus told us your collective situation when you arrived. Worry not about us hating you for it, for we wouldn't be true hunters if we turned a blind eye to you and yours." The two-blade wielding veteran hunter reassured the Mand'alor, putting a fist to his heart and nodding to him. Midnight was shocked by this, and even more so by the fact that he wasn't the only one, either. All the hunters that fought delivered the same salute, bringing a both surprised and somber smile to his face behind his mask. With a low sigh, Midnight looked back up to the collection of warriors, returning their salute in kind.

"We could not have won the day without you all, be proud of yourselves. To those ten who joined the fray with us, if you wish to join us, the Mando'ade, as brothers and sisters, then bring you and yours to the 48th floor of Alexandria Tower before we depart in a week's time." He announced, before looking to the two closest corpses, each hacked to pits and torn to ribbons with nothing save their dog tags remaining intact enough to identify them, only because he saw the others looking down upon them...

"Those two each were single parents... each's kid will be going to an orphanage... a damn shame..." The veteran lamented, making Midnight shoot his gaze back to the man, a fire suddenly lit in his eyes.

"Those two kids, bring them to me on the 48th floor, 1800, today. I'm taking those dog tags, and adopting those kids." He declared without any hesitation. He stomped back and snatched up the dog tags, one reading Janet Arc, the other reading Julius Newman, before nodding to his brothers, and taking off on wings of fire back towards their HQ. After having arguably completed their objective, highly successfully he might even argue, for the day, he knew it was more than high time to turn in for the day...

Though, knowing that this would probably be the only attack for the day, he didn't see any harm in taking Ruby out on the town, maybe spoil her a little... wasn't like he particularly enjoyed spoiling her or anything, he just knew that she'd keep trying her hardest to do right the more she was rewarded. It was a completely logic-based decision that his emotions played absolutely no part in whatsoever...

At least that's what he told himself.

A/N: Hello everyone, it's me again! Sorry about the wait, busy as always I'm afraid.

Also, to answer your question, Firewyrm2... Writers Block be bitchin', I'm afraid. Rest assured, though, I am still working on Pariah of Saunders ^^