Dominion A GARDEN WORLD || ME Dominion of Empty Hex

[Vaux Gred]

Arden Priest Dren Saxon Eenia Vahn Tyr Mereel Runi Kuryida Adelle Bastiel

Vaux looked at Eenia. For whatever reason, compared to the others, she stood out to the pilot. "Keep close to your team, healer. These kind of things usually aren't as exciting as they sound." She remarked before looking over to at V-1. "And you keep ready incase overwatch needs some help." The droid's head disc spun with a deeper whirring as Vaux followed the rest of Cathedral team.

Unlike Arden, the pilot kept her carbine at the ready, never trusting missions like this even if they were usually not so crazy. She looked over taking a breath. "Why do I feel like saying this wouldn't be exciting was a lie?" She asked, hoping to the Manda her gut was wrong. She'd twist the carbine, allowing the cylinder to swing out so she could triple check her rounds. All particle. Good. She wanted some oomth. Still... she didn't like the quiet. She checked a corner, then looked at Adelle.

"So... this what you Imperial type do a...?" And that was when the light pulsed and vanished. "Osik..! Ok. Call it me picking up on spacer superstitions, but I don't like this. Feels like flying through the Dreighton Triangle." She could swear she'd seen a TIE Phantom one time flying through that stretch of space. She really hoped this wasn't something crazy.

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags:
Team Cathedral: Arden Priest | Vaux Gred
Indirect: Dren Saxon | Runi Kuryida | Eenia Vahn | Tyr Mereel ​

THE GLASS CATHEDRAL

More Mandalorians presented themselves to the Rally Master, volunteering for the mission ahead and Warmaster Runi Kuryida herself arriving. Adelle inclined her head by way of greeting--the Mandalorians didn't do deference. Saxon got straight to business, dividing them into small strike teams to investigate different sites up here in these ruins.

The hike up to the translucent structure was cold. The winds whipped around them at this altitude, stirring the mist that clung to the ground and biting through the layers Adelle had. At first she tried to make herself believe she was incredibly hot under her armor, that the cold air was actually refreshing, not icy. That lasted for a few minutes before Adelle decided the better option was to tune out the temperature.

Inside the structure, it felt warmer, if only because the clear material blocked out the wind. Adelle made sure to loosen her WESTAR-34 pistol in its holster but kept her hand empty. She wanted to be able to call either blaster pistol or lightsaber to hand if need be. Lines of light traced through the walls and pillars of the cathedral, first looking like electricity running through circuitry and the next moment runes being activated by some mystic energy. Arden took point, communicating their position softly through comms, as if a louder voice might summon something.

"Why do I feel like saying this wouldn't be exciting was a lie?" She asked, hoping to the Manda her gut was wrong.

The sentence couldn't have been uttered above a whisper and yet it carried. Behind it, Adelle could almost but not quite hear other voices, other whispers. The Force felt strange here. The whole cathedral felt strange. Like it was waiting for them to walk into it, waiting for them to walk further. It set Adelle on edge. It felt too much like a trap.

He quickly straightened, his hand instinctively moving toward his weapon, though his survival instinct told him it would be useless. "Copy, Command," he said, forcing his voice level. "Cathedral interior active. Sound distortion confirmed. Proceeding deeper."

Light followed the laughter, a quick pulse on the floor, runes or circuit pulses running out from where their boots met the floor. Words. They are not gone. Adelle had the sinking feeling she knew who "they" were.

"So... this what you Imperial type do a...?" And that was when the light pulsed and vanished. "Osik..! Ok. Call it me picking up on spacer superstitions, but I don't like this. Feels like flying through the Dreighton Triangle."

"Not all the time, no," Adelle answered quietly. She followed behind Arden and Vaux, most of her focus trained on watching their six. "This is by far the strangest mission I've been part of."

Even as quiet as she'd been, her voice echoed, shifted into hissing whispers that refused to manifest into something clear. All the while, that terrible rhythm she'd felt out on the landing site pulsed through her boots, into the soles of her feet. Another pulse of light along the floor allowed Adelle to read the second half of the words flaring and fading: They are changed.

"Oh I don't like that at all," she said. She opened her comm channel. "Cathedral team to Command Beta, we're getting stonger pulses of light through the floor, manifesting into Galactic Basic. Two phrases. 'They are not gone. They are changed.' Proceeding with caution."

As they ventured deeper, the fused walls continued to pulse with light and Adelle swore she could hear an extra set of footsteps following behind them.

 

[Raum Varad]

WARBAND REBUILDER

TAGS: Cathedral Team: Adelle Bastiel | Vaux Gred
Indirect: Dren Saxon | Runi Kuryida | Tyr Mereel | Eenia Vahn ​

Arden froze mid-step. The words, "They are changed," hung in the air like frost. He scanned the corridor ahead, his rifle rising on instinct. Nothing moved, but the silence pressed in, thick and deliberate. A slow thrum almost matched his heartbeat, vibrating through his teeth.

"Copy," he said over comms, tone clipped. "Marking location of the pulse origin. Cathedral Team advancing." He adjusted his grip on the rifle and glanced back at Adelle and Vaux.

The air shimmered faintly as he spoke, bending the light. His own reflection flickered in the crystal walls. Dozens of distorted, half-formed images of him appeared, all turning their heads a fraction too slow. Arden's jaw tightened. The reflection nearest him moved again, watching, not mirroring his actions.

He raised his rifle, but before he could fire, the reflection dissolved, melting into lines of light that crawled away into the floor. The pulse underfoot quickened.

"Movement in the walls," he said, stepping forward. "Feels reactive." His boots echoed the pulse now, a cadence not entirely his own. "Adelle, can you feel that? Feels like it's syncing with..." He stopped, throat tightening. The hum rose suddenly, filling the space with pressure, not sound. The lights along the corridor flared, revealing more mirrored forms taking shape deeper ahead.

Arden crouched low, signaling a halt as he saw the tall, motionless humanoid silhouettes. "Contact, twelve meters. No heat signatures. No life signs." His finger rested against the trigger, but he didn't fire. Every instinct screamed that shooting would wake something better left dreaming.

The figures shimmered once. The hum broke into a voice, layered, not laughter this time, a chorus that spoke from every wall at once: You came from the stars. You brought the silence.

Arden's pulse steadied, even as the hair on his neck rose. He motioned forward. "We keep moving. Eyes open. Let's see what survived the silence."
​

 

[Tyr Mereel]

Objective: II
Location: Gaillardia
Arden Priest | Dren Saxon | Adelle Bastiel | Runi Kuryida | Vaux Gred ​

The mountain range stretched on in every direction, jagged peaks rising like ancient sentinels around the narrow valley below. From his perch in the gunner’s nest, Tyr watched the Mandalorians on the ground push forward toward the cathedral, a structure carved straight into the cliff face, half-buried beneath centuries of snow and silence. Its spires reached out from the mountain’s heart like ribs of stone, and even at this distance, the sight carried a weight older than the Republics and Empires that had come and gone. The squad’s armor lights flickered against the storm haze, a quiet procession of ghosts ascending toward something sacred, or perhaps forsaken.

Tyr adjusted the magnification on his visor, tracking their formation as they crossed the final stretch of exposed slope. Snow shifted beneath their boots, scattering across the chasm’s edge and vanishing into the white abyss. His turret stayed still, locked in passive alignment. There was no need for a report, no threat, no anomaly, only the quiet hum of the repulsors and the muted hiss of wind against beskar. The dropship hovered steady, a lone sentinel above the world’s edge. Down below, the warriors reached the cathedral’s outer courtyard, its gate framed by frost-stained statues whose faces time had long erased.

He leaned slightly into the viewport, watching one of the soldiers glance up, perhaps instinctively, toward his hovering craft. Tyr didn’t wave or signal; he simply watched, keeping his vigil as the others breached the threshold and vanished into shadow. The sight stirred something wordless in him. Every campaign had this moment: when the noise of engines, orders, and movement faded into stillness, and all that remained was the question of who would return. The mountains didn’t answer. They never did. They just waited to see who would prove strong enough to walk back down.

The wind howled harder now, pushing at the dropship’s hull like a living thing. Tyr reset his footing, anchored his stance, and resumed his silent watch. The pilot’s voice crackled faintly through the cabin, asking for confirmation of positioning. He gave a silent nod, one hand resting on the cannon housing, though there was no intent to use it. The storm was closing in fast, veiling the cathedral in shifting white curtains. But Tyr didn’t blink, didn’t shift his gaze. He remained exactly where he was meant to be, unseen, unspoken, and unshaken, guarding the mountain’s silence while his brothers and sisters walked into its heart.

 

[Hubert Starhopper]

Objective: Delve Into The Unknown



Tags: Dren Saxon Tyr Mereel Aether Verd

Gear: Tool-Kit, Custom Blaster Pistol.



-----------



The birth of a planet...

Hubert hasn't known what to expect ever since he joined up with the Corps, but whatever his imagination could possibly muster, couldn't compare to this. When word was given about the expedition, Hubert jumped onto the bandwagon the first chance that he got. It had to have been some kind of karmic luck however, that his ship decided to fail upon ignition, leaving him stranded as the rest of the expedition party soared away into the atmosphere.

HOURS, he spent cursing at the Star-Scraper as he tore it apart in attempts to slap it back together. It's a miracle the thing runs in the first place... A salvaged body with salvaged parts from scraps picked so clean a Jawa wouldn't bother looking twice. Old speeder parts, components from ships that had rained down and crashed into the sands of Tatooine over time, metal plating from a tipped sand-crawler and a yard full of crumpled hulls.

It was about two hours after the rest of them had left when- with a final swear, and an overzealous cramming of his power relays into their places, the Star-Scraper came to life, sputtering black smoke in a pair of puffy clouds before the thrusters finally took. After a minute or two of cheers and excitement from himself, to himself... He boarded his ship, and set course for the coordinates.

As Hubert approaches the planet, he takes a moment to admire its beauty, astounded that not too long ago, in its place was an empty void.

He taps the communicator on his chest, clearing his throat to speak.

"Dren Saxon. Hubert Starhopper reporting. Sorry 'bout the late show. Apparently my ship wasn't as excited for this." He takes a long drag from the cigarette hanging from his mouth, exhaling through his nose as he prepares for entry into the planets atmosphere. "Where you got me? I'll park 'er and follow suit."

As far as landings go, this was one of his smoothest. It isn't that he's a bad pilot, he just usually has a reason to be falling out of the sky... Good luck and bad timing make for a strange mix. As the Star-Scraper settles onto the ground of this foreign world, Hubert powers everything down and stands from his seat, grabbing his tool-kit, and quadruple-checking that his blaster is settled in its holster on his chest.

With a series of groans and squeals, his ramp descends. He waits patiently with his hands at his sides until it fully opens, cringing at the state of his ship with tightly-pressed teeth. He begins to walk down the ramp, cursing at himself for not just stealing a ship long ago. But as his feet meet the ground, his mind blanks as if an emergency brake was pulled on his train of thought. He stands in place, looking around himself slowly and taking in his surroundings. Something feels off, a little voice in his head planting more and more seeds of doubt. He takes another drag from the cigarette, pulling it away from his mouth with his off-hand. Now, all he needs to do at the moment is wait for his orders...

Hopefully...

 

[Runi Kuryida]

Runi nodded slightly at Dren Saxon 's words. Her hazel eyes would shift to Tyr Mereel and Eenia Vahn at their mention.

The Shaman Warmaster would lead those with her toward the plaza. It was a desolate realm, but one that demanded survey and securing. "Monitor your scopes for signs of life," she commanded as they drew nearer the tower of note. The plaza they'd pass by was captivating, and ordinary at the same time. Hopefully those that would study it might yield something of note of its make. Admiring the architecture, however, was not nearly as revealing as finding some manner of log, recording, or -- better -- a survivor. Something that might be found in the still-standing structure ahead.

Carefully, Runi reached out to open the door after a quick check on those with her. it was unlikely an ambush awaited them, but being hasty was not their way. Clearing entryways was always a sound tactic in an unknown and seemingly abandoned realm.

After they were inside, she stopped to scan the interior. A slight twist to her lips accompanied a narrowing of the eyes. Mirrors? "Anything?" she asked. Others would be charged with scanning and making assessments in accordance with their specialty and role. Meanwhile, the Warmaster slowly stepped forward deeper into the chamber to take stock of it with her senses.

There was something about the reflections that seemed off, but was it merely an illusion? They appeared to lag actual movement, or at times... continue? Some sort of technological trick? A Force anomaly? "What do you make of the mirrors?"

Cathedral Team: Arden Priest | Adelle Bastiel | Vaux Gred
Mirror Hall: Tyr Mereel | Eenia Vahn
Dren Saxon | Open​

 

[Vaux Gred]

Arden Priest Dren Saxon Eenia Vahn Tyr Mereel Runi Kuryida Adelle Bastiel

Vaux looked and swallowed hard. She looked at Arden and Adelle, not really sure how to react. She really hated thi kind f stuff sometime. "I'm going to punch ner tat (Concordian: My brother) for sending me on this one." She mumbled to herself. Yes she actually vollenteered for this, but that didn't mean she liked what was happening right now. The words. The noise. The signal. It was all too much. Even for a seasoned pilot.

She just tried to shake off the worry though, shouldering her carbine and following, ready for any agression they might encounter. "Really hope this 'change' isn't something that's still happening."

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags:
Cathedral Team: Arden Priest | Vaux Gred
Indirect: Dren Saxon | Runi Kuryida | Eenia Vahn | Tyr Mereel
​

"Copy," he said over comms, tone clipped. "Marking location of the pulse origin. Cathedral Team advancing." He adjusted his grip on the rifle and glanced back at Adelle and Vaux.

Adelle nodded, senses attuned to what may lay behind them. The whispers chasing their voices rose and fell like the crash of waves on the shore, and the reflections they cast in the translucent walls flickered, moving half a second too slow, moving when they stopped. Arden shouldered his rifle and aimed down the sights at the images but they all scattered into those eery lines of light.

She had a hard time telling what was the pulsating rhythm and what was her own heartbeat.

"Movement in the walls," he said, stepping forward. "Feels reactive." His boots echoed the pulse now, a cadence not entirely his own. "Adelle, can you feel that? Feels like it's syncing with..."

"Our pulses," she said. 'Pulses' sounded better than 'hearbeats.' She hadn't wanted to say it out loud but the void before the pressure compelled her to say it out loud. The hum rose into a pressure that made her feel like she'd suddenly ascended several thousands of meters in altitude. Light flared ahead of them and she stayed at Arden's signal, calling her lightsaber to hand even as her brain told her this was not an enemy she could fight like that.

You came from the stars. You brought the silence.

What in Corellia's nine hells did that even mean?

Arden stood and began moving forward, his body taut with unease. Vaux was much the same and her words said as much.

She just tried to shake off the worry though, shouldering her carbine and following, ready for any agression they might encounter. "Really hope this 'change' isn't something that's still happening."

"You and me both," Adelle said, barely above a whisper. If she didn't know any better, she'd have thought she was hallucinating.

 

[Raum Varad]

WARBAND REBUILDER

TAGS: Cathedral Team: Adelle Bastiel | Vaux Gred
Indirect: Dren Saxon | Runi Kuryida | Tyr Mereel | Eenia Vahn ​

The light ahead flared again, and Arden's visor automatically dimmed. The pulse felt sharper now, more focused. He sensed a shift before he saw it; a pressure drawing inward, the ambient hum collapsing into a low, resonant tone that vibrated through the walls.

"Stay sharp," he murmured. His voice echoed back strangely, layered and delayed until a chorus of his own words seemed to whisper behind him.

The corridor opened into a chamber. In the center, a column of crystal hung suspended, rotating slowly, its surface like liquid glass. Fragments drifted around it, held by some unseen force. Inside the crystal, faint shadows moved, shapes that were unsettlingly human.

Arden advanced, rifle half-lowered, his movements steady. He reached out with his scanner, but the readout was a wash of static. "No life signs. No matter structure either," he said, squinting. "But it's thinking."

The pulse in the air seemed to synchronize with his breathing, or rather, with the breathing of his team. He heard Vaux and Adelle's breaths on comms, each exhale marked by a flicker in the crystal's light. As he drew closer, the figures within came into focus. Armor. Mandalorian armor, in white, silver, and gold. The markings were his own.

Arden's jaw tightened. "Command, this is Cathedral Team. We have visual on… containment. Mandalorian biosignatures detected inside structure. Ancient." The word lodged in his throat.

The hum deepened, resolving into a voice, quieter this time, almost gentle. They wanted to remember. You came to finish what they began.

The air turned frigid. Frost crept along Arden's vambrace, inching towards his rifle grip. The crystal shivered. One of the figures inside opened its eyes, and light, white as fusion fire, spilled out.

Arden raised his rifle. "Back up. Now."

The floor pulsed beneath them, a hard jolt that knocked him to his knee. The voice spoke again, sharper now, echoing in his bones: The silence ends.
​

 

[Vaux Gred]

Adelle Bastiel Arden Priest

Vaux followed, suddenly on edge as the voice spoke up. Why were the lines mimicking their breathing. And then she heard Arden. She saw the crystal. Her HUD wasn’t fancy or anything like other Mando gear, pretty much just the basics, but she wasn’t blind.

“That can’t be….” And then all Nether broke loose. It got cold as space, and the thing opened its eyes. The he words… what the heck did that mean?!

“Kark, kark, kark!” She yelled out as she backpedaled, keeping her eyes down her sights and pulling back the hammer of her carbine. “Permission to introduce whatever that is to particle fire?!” She asked, trying to keep her cool as she swapped on her comm channel to VK. “VK. Air. Now!”