Junction An Eye for an Eye | GA + MAW Junction of Selvaris and Copero

[Spirit of Judgement]

An Eye for An Eye
A Second Great Hyperspace War Story


"The flame of war is an insatiable beast."​

Water sleeps, but enemies never rest. The friction on the Maw-Alliance border saw a slow as both sides licked their wounds following the battles on Jedha and Andrathorpe. But it didn’t take long for new skirmishes to break out again in the following months. While the Alliance stabilized the Core and rebuilt its fleet, the Brotherhood pressed their advantage against the New Imperial Order. Neither, however, had forgotten about the other. Light and dark seek to cripple one another with simultaneous operations.

Both Maw and Alliance reignite the flames of war at nearly the same time.

Gathering the fervour of the Brotherhood, the Holy Maw Crusade spearhead a massive campaign to take Empress Teta into Alliance territory. Their first stop: Selvaris.

Meanwhile, the Galactic Alliance Defence Force rallies the remnants of the Chiss Ascendancy for a strategic push into Maw controlled Chiss space. They seek to deprive the Maw's war machine by reclaiming Copero's shipyards.

!!! This Dominion uses advanced TAB TECHNOLOGY. !!!
Please ensure you see both tabs, by clicking the red/blue text below.
As always, seek out a writing partner from the other faction and go to town, y'all are here to do some cross-faction FIGHTIN'.​

[ SELVARIS - THE MAW HOLY CRUSADE ] [ COPERO - OPERATION GLACIER ]

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  The Maw Holy Crusade - Selvaris​

  
  

  

  
  Objective I​

  Base Siege, An Outpost vs an Army
  ​

  
  The Krath had long been exiled from their homeworld where they once held supreme power. Their cult have survived over millennia waiting, watching, and plotting their resurgence, their time is fast approaching. After the Great Battle of Coruscant they found a stage in the Brotherhood, a chance to seize that which they lost so long ago. Gathering the greatest force yet raised in the MAW from each of the various dark factions within the vile horde’s ranks they dare to lead the Great Journey forward, the Core-ward push, the return home with the MAW HOLY CRUSADE as their weapon. With their armies ready and their plans finalized they rest their eyes upon the first world in their crosshairs.
  
  Nestled in the stars above Selvaris lay an orbital outpost, hosting a unit of GADF engineers. Over the years, they’ve researched the effects of Vong terraforming and bioengineering. In recent history, it has seen an influx of ever-moving deployment, due to its strategic positioning between the fronts of the Second Great Hyperspace War. At 0600 hours, the scheduled patrol fleet for the sector failed to report, and all communications with a deep-space listening post six parsecs north dropped. It was only minutes later the MAW HOLY ARMADA made the jump, dropping from hyperspace to surround the station. While the distress signal has been sent, relief forces from the GADF will never make it to the system before the entire planet is overrun.
  
  The merciless Maw seeks to take advantage of surprise and seize the initiative while the eyes of the Alliance lie elsewhere. The Alliance's soldiers at the outpost need to stand against the mighty fleet for as long as they can while evacuations are underway!
  

  
  
  

  

  
  Objective II​

  Jungle Huntin'​

  Throughout the jungles, the Galactic Alliance had constructed Data Centres to collect and affect local wildlife. They were small, staffed by a handful of scientists and GADF soldiers and they lived with the existential threats of Yuzon Vong life forms daily. Now, as dropships of Maw forces descend into the wilds intent on securing the planet, these soldiers and scientists have taken up arms and departed their posts to defend their stations against zealot and beast alike. The Maw Holy Crusaders attempt to navigate the deep jungles with the aid of the insidious Khot Vong, a tribe of monsterous sithspawn hybrids who attempt to wrestle control over the Vongshaped world. Crusade and horde attempt to navigate the deep jungles, up against both Alliance.
  
  Will the hunters become the hunted or will the Crusade cleanse the heathens who stand in their path?
  
  
  
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  Operation Glacier - Copero​

  
  

  

  
  Objective A​

  
  

  Ship Fighting, Battle for the Shipyards​

  The Alliance moves to release the Maw’s chokehold upon Copero, host world of the former CEDF shipyards. For their aid, their allies in the Chiss have offered up various weapons to give light an edge on darkness. As the Alliance moves forwards to strike, little do they know the Maw have long utilized Chiss advancements along with other secrets from the Unknown Regions for their own nefarious plans.
  
  The Sith aligned sect within the Brotherhood, the Final Dawn, have refit the shipyards to manufacture state of the art vessels in the wake of Epoch Engineering’s fall, even forging a Star Dreadnought of their own. Utilizing the secrets of the Croke, the advancements of the Chiss, and the Path Engines of the Nihil, the Final Dawn build vessels of imposing will for the Brotherhood war effort. Equipping each of their dreadnoughts with a kidnapped and brainwashed Ozyly-esehembo or Sky-Walker. The MAW strive to hold absolute power in the Unknown Regions and wretch hold of unmatched space supremacy.
  
  With the shipyards near emptied in preparation of the Core-ward campaign and the final push into Imperial held Noris, the Alliance stands to bring shock and awe to the industrial dockyards. Battle the MAW’s defending forces for control of space above Copero and discover the true horrors of what lie below.

  
  
  

  

  
  Objective B​

  
  

  The Ebruchized, Jedi v Sith Action​

  Mission briefing for Jedi participations in Operation Glacier, held by Bernard of Arca of the New Jedi Order Council.
  
  “The GADF High Command has shared intelligence reports about a series of Force-related experiments the Brotherhood has hosted at the Copero shipyards. They’ve requested Jedi come along for a strike against this facility, both to ensure the safety of their troopers and because we have a more expansive perspective on Force matters.
  
  "The intelligence reports some form of cloning technology used in the creation of specialized navigators who use the Force, designed to allow the Brotherhood’s ships superior navigational capabilities. If these reports are true, this could give them a substantial edge in the coming months, something the GADF isn’t willing to risk.
  
  "And from what I’ve read, these experiments were a corruption of not just the Force, but of life itself, and have to be stopped. I ask that you do everything in your power to find out what is going on here, and stop whatever the Brotherhood is doing here. Do whatever you can for the victims of their insanity.”
  
  (Underneath the surface of Copero lies a complex of countless strand-cast vats and cloning equipment. Here laboratories and gene farms mimic the dark science performed on Exegol. All in attempt to create more Sky-Walkers, the Ebruchized are the result of this dark labor. Do not let the Brotherhood get away with this unnatural horror, destroy the farms.)

  
  
  
  

 

[Kralmus Orr]

Selvaris: Jungle Huntin' (Objective II)
​

Location: Selvaris, Deep Jungle
Tags: Open

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Kralmus Orr lands on Selvaris and moves toward one of the Alliance outposts

​

Selvaris was the kind of planet no sane person wanted to visit. It was a backwater system, with no amenities and no places of safety. It was a hostile world, its jungles choked with bioengineered monsters and nasty pathogens. And it was directly in the path of the Brotherhood of the Maw as they began their next great push toward the Core Worlds, a push intended to rip out the heart of the Galactic Alliance. Although it would be little more than a staging ground for the Holy Crusade, as it had no manufacturing facilities and little strategic worth beyond its position at the edge of densely-inhabited systems, it was about to be the site of incredible violence.

All of that made it Kralmus Orr's kind of place.

As his dropship descended, the Mandalorian cannibal gazed out at the blue-green jewel that was the jungle world. He much preferred the wilderness to cities, or even to military bases. Untamed lands showed no mercy, no softness to the unworthy. Everyone who tried to inhabit them was tested constantly, and failing to rise to the challenge meant becoming a meal for some predator that did. To Kralmus, that was the way the whole galaxy ought to be. In the Core Worlds, "civilization" had created safety for the weak and unworthy. Ninety percent of them or more wouldn't last a day on a planet like Selvaris, and in Kralmus's eyes, that made them unworthy to live at all.

If you needed other people to protect you, you were fit for only two things: enslavement or death.

The dropship descended to the jungle floor with a long, slow whooosh, landing gear extending, and set down in a small clearing. As the loading ramp dropped, the sterile humming and beeping of the starship's controlled environment gave way to the sounds of the jungle: buzzing, howling, the swish of the hot, humid wind through the leaves and boughs of colossal plant life. So much better. Nature, in all its savage, merciless glory, was where Kralmus Orr belonged. He expected little challenge from the scattered Galactic Alliance outposts on this untamed world; what semblance of resistance could a bunch of egghead scientists and their tiny protective detail offer the Maw?

These Vongformed beasts he'd heard about, though? They would be a challenge worthy of his attention.

Axe in hand, Kralmus stalked out of the dropship, ignoring the Mawite warriors all around him; he operated best alone, for he was a hunter, not a leader of men. Raising his bracer, he called up the coordinates of the nearest Galactic Alliance outpost, marking it on an overland map relative to his current position. It would be only a short trek, and between his jetpack and his survival skills, he could make it there in no time. He might as well bring some death to the enemies of his ostensible masters before he went after real prey, he supposed, if only to keep the Mand'alor happy. "I do hope they can offer some sport," he murmured. Then he headed into the jungle.

Toward the scientists he intended to butcher, along with any who stood beside them.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Copero: The Ebruchized (Objective B)​

Location: Copero, Subterranean Laboratories
Tags: Open

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Tu'teggacha works on his vile Ebruchized in his buried lab

In the dark, dank tunnels beneath the ruins of the Erighal family's compound...

... Taskmaster Tu'teggacha felt very much at home.

Certainly it was no Gehinnom; the Ebruchi frequently mourned the loss of the Holy City, destroyed over Rhand, and the vile dungeons he had inhabited in its lowest levels. And it was not so well-equipped as his new laboratories on Exegol, the labyrinth of ancient Sith cloning facilities and experimentation cells. But Tu'teggacha was proud of what he had accomplished here on Copero. Through dark science, tainted mysticism, dogged persistence, and utter disregard for the value and sanctity of life, he had overcome a limitation that the Chiss Ascendancy never had. He had perfected their Sky-walkers.

Force-Sensitives among the Chiss were notoriously rare, and most of them fell into a single, rather special category: the ozyly-esehembo, which loosely meant "Sky-walkers" when translated into galactic basic. These Chiss, mostly girls, developed a unique Force talent between the ages of seven and fourteen: the ability to instinctively navigate the tangled, dangerous hyperlanes of the Unknown Regions with incredible precision. The Chiss called this gift Third Sight, and valued it highly as a service to their fleets. Such a gift would be valuable beyond measure to the Maw as well, of course.

It would help them pour swiftly out of the Unknown Regions and burn the galaxy.

But young Chiss children were not ideal wielders of this gift. In the Ascendancy they were raised with a powerful sense of civic duty, and served willingly until their gifts faded in their mid to late teens. They were well-protected, valued above almost any other military asset. In all their conquests of Chiss space, the Brotherhood had captured only a handful of them, and had been unable to turn any to the Maw's service; the bonds of such deep loyalty were not easily unraveled, and children were... fragile. So the Taskmaster had turned to a different solution: to make his own Sky-walkers.

Sky-walkers that would exist solely to serve the Dark Voice and the gods.

It had been slow going, trying to clone these special children. The Brotherhood could not afford to wait seven years or more for their gifts to manifest, but growth acceleration interacted strangely with the Living Force, and most of them had been born so twisted and deformed that they had been unable to survive more than a few days. That was why the Taskmaster had begun injecting them with his own Ebruchi DNA, for his species was notoriously resilient, their rubbery flesh able to withstand great physical strain. In a twisted sense, all of the creations that had followed were his children.

Not that it made him place any real value on their lives, of course.

The results had been even more twisted and malformed, genetic aberrations that lived in eternal torment... but they had lived, and that was progress. Naturally, most went mad from the pain of their existence; these failures wandered the outer tunnels of Tu'teggacha's labyrinth, writhing and gibbering and moaning, attacking anything they came across in their agonized rage at all living creatures - except others of their misbegotten kind. But one in a hundred of these wretches kept its sanity, and endured the memory flashes that taught them to wield the Third Sight. Now that power belonged to the Maw.

It was here on Copero that Tu'teggacha had made them...

... and here on Copero that he was making them still.

The Ebruchized. His most twisted success.

Ensconced in his deeply-buried laboratories, the Ebruchi had no idea that the Galactic Alliance had come to put an end to his experiments. He hummed to himself as he walked among bubbling strand-cast vats, producing a wet, blubbery sound like a bubbling tar pit as his tendrils buzzed with the "melody". "Not too many of you are finished yet," he crooned, stopping beside one of the tanks and staring at the wretched mutant within. "Not too many. But we're making progress. My process is becoming more stable." He permitted himself a grisly Ebruchi smile, facial tentacles splayed.

"Soon every Mawite ship will wield the Third Sight."

 

[Starlin Rand]

Objective B - The Ebruchized
Location: Copero, Subterranean Laboratories
Tags: Lief Tu'teggacha​

Starlin had seen some crazy chit over the years, but a mad scientist's evil lab was one of the few things he had yet to experience. He'd heard lurid stories from others about the depravity of Sith alchemy (some more harrowing than what he was seeing now) but witnessing it in action was far worse.

A mutated monstrosity was felled by his blade, collapsing in pieces. Another mangled creature groaned in the darkness up ahead. Starlin took solace in the knowledge that he was putting them out of their misery with each strike. These abominations radiated agony and madness, whatever sentience they might've possessed reduced to gibbering lunacy. He was ending their suffering.

He hoped his apprentice understood that too.

"Look sharp," he told Eli. "I think we're getting closer to the laboratory where these things came from. I can feel it..."

 

[Lief]

Objective B - The Ebruchized​

Eliphas Dune had visited a great many places which turned out to be surprisingly dangerous alongside his Master, Starlin Rand - from hangars on peaceful old Coruscant to abandoned cities overrun with Cultists, he'd seen and faced a lot in his short tenure as a Padawan of the New Jedi Order, and yet somehow this felt remarkably different from the rest.​

​

There was a somber nature to it all, a serious which blanketed the task at hand from the very onset. Their approach had been slow going, and the only reason he even understood that they were somewhat on track toward whatever destination awaited them came in the form of mutated creatures lurking in the dark caverns they trawled through.​

​

He wasn't one for the extinguishing of life. From the lizards on Ossus with Mathieu Brion to the Mawites on Erakhis, he'd been loathed to even exist around such destruction, and yet here he was all the same with his amber lightsaber ignited. Not even the thrum of the crystal held within could really ease his bothered mind. The boy told himself that this was a necessary action, that the beings they felled were abominations against the Force and life itself, but that didn't make it any easier.​

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As troubled as they were, as far removed from their genetic ancestors as they might well have been, they still held sentience. Was the nature of their birth really enough to deny them some semblance of humanity, redemption, help..?​

​

A few feet from him Starlin ran one of the failed experiments through, and their form toppled into numerous pieces under the sheer intensity of his blade. Eliphas paled, it didn't rightly matter how many of them they encountered, or how many were cut down, he felt certain he'd never adjust to the sight of it. Nor the feel of it in the Force. ​

​

He'd been working more in-depth to develop his Empathic capabilities, a seemingly fruitless endeavor Jacen Nimdok had unintentionally set him upon. For all the difficulties he'd been having grasping at the talent, in that moment the boy could feel the moment the life was snuffed out of them, an end to their misery and pain sure but also a finality to their existence. An end to any hope for their recovery.​

​

His Master's words drew him from his troubled thoughts, and Eliphas strengthened his grip of the saber he'd been carelessly wielding with his left hand. He brought his right over to accompany it, holding the blade off and toward his right vertically in anticipation of what lurked within the darkness. Wailing and groaning and ceaseless muttering...​

​

"Ashla, forgive me," the boy whispered beneath his breath, before stepping forward to illuminate the creature in a sickly orange glow...​

​

Tu'teggacha ​

 

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Copero, the tunnels
Objective: B, The Ebruchized
Tags: Tu'teggacha / Starlin Rand / Lief

Far underneath the earth of Copero was a network of dark tunnels, mysterious and hidden away from the world above. They were there for a reason and didn't necessarily mean a good one. Reports stated the Maw had a laboratory deep inside, performing hideous experiments a twisted mind could only think of and gathering more data on clones that were produced at the facility itself. No matter what, they needed to destroy the facility before it could produce another atrocity.

"Stay close everyone, Silas keep your eyes on the rear" the knight commanded, catching Silas at a bad time as he was checking out something stuck to his shoes. Snapping his attention in front of him, he quickly nodded and looked into the distance "Sorry... it won't happen again." he said back, annoyed by himself that he had let his guard down. This was his first mission, little mistakes could cost his life or even worse be a way for the enemy to capture them. Altogether there were four of them, three knights and a padawan. They were only one group in a large attack force, many others were using the tunnels to infiltrate the dark Bastian of evil.

Drawing closer to an open blast door gate the group pressed forwards, knowing of what was about to rush them from around the corner. The sound of running echoed throughout the tunnel and shadows of mutated figures filled the walls to indicate their nightmarish presence "Get back... now!" he ordered as they all quickly rushed back a few paces, their eyes glued ahead in anticipation. Within moments, a dozen of the monsters came staggering around the corner, fearlessly heading straight for the Jedi.

"Be prepared, don't be-" was the only thing he could say before the clanking of the blast doors erupted behind them. Although, none of them could react to the noise before the first few reached their sabers. Silas and the others hacked and slashed at the never ending stream of twisted creatures. Silas breathed heavily as he ended the suffering of another, keeping calm and collected as all of them began to lose ground and quickly.

The blast doors were steadily becoming more and more closed by the second, threatening to block them off as more of them kept coming their way. Even though they were clearly outnumbered, Silas was unbroken in his resolve. They had to fight through this and end their reign of unnatural evil, by any means necessary. But, as the fates saw it the boy would need to do it by himself.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and threw him backward, just about getting him through before the doors finally clanked shut in front of him "W-wait no!" he shouted as he ran up to the door and heard shouting and screams from the other side. Without him realising, the knight had seen the ever increasing defeat on the horizon. If all of them tried to leave the swarm would have overwhelmed them, only one person was going to live and tell the tale in that story.

Covered in the blood of the mutated experiments his hand formed into a fist and hit the blast door with aggression. This was not how it was supposed to go... but deep down he knew there was nothing he could have done in that situation. Silas took a deep breath to calm himself down, his temple lightly pressing up against the door. Right now, he was lost.

 

[Dodhorn Harert]

Dodhorn Harert, the Hellwolf of Mandalore
Alor of the Clan Harert, Sith Lord, Former Mandalore the Ruthless​

Location: To awake, return to life
Location: Selvaris, Deep Jungle
Equipment: Simple black dress
Tag: Kralmus Orr | Open

[ Death Come Near Me ]
<"Mandalorian or ur-Kittât"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Eternal sleep… endless dream…

The former Mandalore the Ruthless may have been doomed to this fate. The Hellwolf was once defeated and they were not able to kill her. She was trapped like an animal, and then her enemy froze her. It has been a very, very long time since. The Mandalorians, and everyone else, did everything they could to make Clan Harert disappear forever. No one should remember them and her.

They might have been successful, but one member survived. And that was exactly the Alor. And the Force wanted the eternal dream, the never-ending sleep, to end.

The place was once a temple or tomb. The tomb has disappeared deep in the jungle over the past millennia, the plants have overgrown it, the walls have collapsed, now there is little left of this place, only some small ruined wall covered with moss and plants. However, the Maw has arrived. Some bombs, missiles went astray...

That's all that it needed…

The entrance to the tomb collapsed on the surface and the sarcophagus with Sith / Mandalorian symbols hidden deep down was damaged. The sarcophagus that trapped the former ruler, the Sith Lord. She did not wake up, but her deep endless dream was interrupted. The sarcophagus' systems failed and the freezing was not as strong as before.

Dodhorn Harert's subconscious noticed it all, then reached out to the minds of those around far, with the Force and tried to summon them, to call them. Anyone "nearby" could feel the call, even if they were not Force users. An intuition, a feeling of where to go. Why? Not to know, but it was an urgent feeling…

From the depths of the jungle, where perhaps no one has been for thousands of years…

What could have made the place striking from the outside was that the plants withered near the collapsed entrance….

Inside, the tomb was a simple, unadorned larger room with a sarcophagus in the centre, on a podium. There was no decoration on the walls, maybe once a lab, but not much was left. There are some skeletons on the ground, some ancient Mandalorian or Sith armour that has almost fallen into dust. Some rusty guns, broken lightsaber grip. Everything is many, many thousands of years old, nothing was usable anymore.

Only the sarcophagus was untouched and intact at this place. And four sculptural figures standing on four sides of the sarcophagus, those were black as if from ashes…

 

[Orn'om]

Operation Glacier
Chiss Expansionary Defense Force

Seven long years. For seven years the Maw had held Copero in its grasp, using the shipyards there to pump out its monstrously destructive warships. For seven years the Brotherhood of the Maw had enslaved and eradicated his people. After learning the secrets of Csilla he couldn't feel sorry for the Aristocra, especially after their apparent survival and flight. They had tried to take this war from him to protect their flotilla of elites while leaving the people behind at the mercy of the Maw. His duty now, as a part of the Chiss Expansionary Fleet, not the Defense Force, was twofold - to eradicate the threat of the Maw, and with the Defense Force strongly behind the Aristocra, defend his people.

The Breath of Vengence dropped out of hyperspace alongside the GADF fleet and the fleet of the Expansionary Defense Force. This was the first step forward for the Chiss since that fateful day, the first counterattack.

"Electrostatic barriers online!"

"Plasma spheres ready!"

"Our fighters are launching now!"

"Synchronization and communication with the GADF Battlenet established."

"Warrior Corps dropships headed for the shipyards now to support GADF Marines and Jedi"

A tall Chiss woman in full Warrror combat armor looked to Orn'om, her crimson eyes twinkling with anticipation. Before her red lips could part Orn'om turned to her.

"Deploy your team. I wish to see if the training you have been doing with those Imperial Knights has yielded fruit," Orn'om said quietly. The woman's lips curled into a broad smile.

"Yes Admiral. The Nightdragons will join in the battle to free our brothers and sisters." Before she could leave Orn'om gripped her wrist in a firm grip.

"Raw'un," He locked eyes with hers. "Be careful. We will need you in the future." She patted Orn'om's cheek with far too much familiarity before glancing down at her lightsabers and grinned. Orn'om could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, embarrassment turning his usually pale blue skin a deep purple from his older sister's public display of affection.

"I'll be fine with these."

Once she was off the bridge Orn'om turned his attention back to the battle at hand. Had they caught them by surprise? What was the status of the other Alliance ships? He wanted to keep Copero in decent shape. He was under no illusions how the Alliance would likely take over a large portion of the yards but if he was going to keep the fight going they would need their own shipyard. They could only do so much with the limited space at Ornfra, especially with the tensions rising between the Expansionary Fleet and what remained of the Dasklo family's personal guard. From his display he watched as the Nightdragon's transport made its way towards the planet and the research cloning center.

"May fortune guide you."

 

[Valery Noble]

Location: Selvaris
Valery: Appearance
Outfit: Factory Link
Lightsabers: Link!
Tag: DM to plot

The Alliance was making a move against Copera to further push back the forces of the Maw, and even Jedi were called to assist in operations there. But War was a complex thing with many moving pieces, and the Maw wasn't simply going to sit still while the Alliance and Jedi attacked its planets. To win a war, one had to take the fight to the enemy at some point, and the Brotherhood understood this well — they had their own plans brewing and it was only a matter of time before those were revealed to the Galaxy.

So as much as Valery wanted to be leading on the front to help her fellow Jedi at Copero, she remained patient and soon, it was rewarded. Calls for help from Selvaris reached her across the dark vacuum — forces of the Maw were on the move while the Alliance's focus had shifted on a new target. But Valery was still available, fully recovered from the parasite and the injuries from her brief time in captivity. Finally, after a difficult pregnancy and tough times afterward, she felt the Jedi Battlemaster within was back, and the fiery drive the woman always had was burning brighter than ever before now that she had a family to fight and live for. She was stronger than ever before.

And it seemed as if the Force was on her side as well, as it guided her to help at Selvaris. As a jungle world, its terrain was likely challenging to most people, whether they were Jedi, soldiers, or Maw crusaders. But Valery had grown up within the infamous Jungles of New Cov — known for its extremely lethal fauna and flora — and knew exactly how to maneuver her way through them without getting killed.

No matter what she was going to be up against on Selvaris, she had the experience, strength, and training to push herself through and offer her assistance to those who needed it. The GADF and scientists there were few in numbers, but their work was important and she wasn't going to leave anybody behind if she could help it.

So after traveling to the planet in a simple shuttle, Valery made her landing and secured her two lightsabers on her belt. Her mind was calm, focused, and her body was ready for what was likely going to be quite a battle.

The engines powered down, the ramp lowered and with great resolve, Valery moved out into the jungle with great speed, on the hunt for the Maw and whatever they had chosen to bring down to this world.

She was coming for them.

 

[Laoth]

Equipment: Sword of the Tenth | The Panoply
Tags: Michael Sardun | Ishida Ashina
Location: Selvaris| The Ebruchized​

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Solid ice. No. Cold metal and freezing waters.​

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Hissing warmth of the sun. No. No. A chamber open to flames of a torch and...a lightsaber.​

​

Yes. Hinges and doors sliding open. A clunk. Rushing liquid. Falling. Falling forward and down. No! NO! NOOOOO!​

Loath had been the first out of his personal dropship and the first into the jungle, advancing far and farther from his strike group of Mawites, Crusaders, and whatever Vong had come up to meet them. There was no care in his heart for such loathsome beasts, cretins, or their own intentions. No, his care was on the slaughter that he could spread alone and the questions boiling inside the wrecked remnants of a stable mind inside his skull. How long had it been since that day? Since he fell in the sands of Jedha and was interred into that damnable tomb again to recover and rebuild his power? How many days and nights and worlds had passed since he was finally released from its freezing waters? Awoken in the bowels of some dark chamber etched with runes and smothered in sorcery, forced into fighting pits to test his worth and see that the alchemists of old had not made him a failure after all.

He inhaled sharply as his advance stopped at the onset of tingling senses through the Force. A sideways glance brought his sight upon a set of trees marking a barely visible path. Footsteps emanated beyond them, along with hushed chatterings that only a Force-sensitive could hear. Two for one, coming through the brush. Take their lives, they are in a rush. Grunting with effort, the Devaronian stepped toward the trees and shunted his fist forward. Knuckles collided with denting plasteel and cybernetics and brought forth a cry of pain and surprise from a hidden form. A man fell through the brush onto his knees and gripped his face, blood pooling through his fingers. Smiling, Laoth reached up the blade sheathed across his back and gripped the hilt just as a series of wild crimson bolts rained upon his form. He swung and his blade carved through the thick trunks of the trees and the wet, squishy meat of a soldier.

Blood and organs soared in a sharp arc onto the face of the other, his faceplate shattered by the massive Devaronian mutant. He screamed and lunged blindly for the beast with outstretched hands, only to find his head split in two in a quick upward slash. Blood and matter showered down onto the Devaronian and stained the jungle green. Laoth barked in joy at the visceral sight, kicking the maimed body to the ground before spinning in the same motion to carve through another set of trunks, clearing the once hidden path entirely. More soldiers appeared, their faces young or middling, and shocked to see the gigantic freak of nature before them.

Laying their eyes upon the ruined forms of their comrades, the Alliance soldiers released salvos of bolts onto the Devaronian's position. Stinging marks of energized gas and plasma pelted his exposed skin as he danced forward in a horrific display of muscled agility, his flesh and organs protected only by the alchemy used to create him. Too much of this, however, and he would surely end up back in the tomb. He roared as he reached for them with his blade, his free hand crackling open with dark energy...

 

[Liedran Kathause]

Orn'om , Constantine Oliva , Tren Chaar , Marlon Sularen , and any other fleeters
Let's dance.​

[Copero]
[3rd Expeditionary Carrier Line]

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She'd fought over Chandrila, Kril'Dor, Csilla . . . She'd been sent darting between every known corner of Alliance space, responding to pirates, to terrorists, to sprawling war fleets. Yet, those opening moments of an engagement where spinning hues of blue and white became pitch blackness never ceased to induce terror into her soul. When the 3rd Expeditionary finally crossed the hyperspace threshold, a wave of chilled air washed across the commodore's face, jolting through her spine and leaving trails of goosebumps in its wake. The corners of her lips sank, her face paling to pave the way for a grimace.

Then the first spots of manmade light emerged on the viewers.

Her lips upturned, flattening. Stress left frozen cheeks by way of tight fists, boiling when it reached her fingertips. Liedran's eyes, though, clung to the last drops of nervousness, darkening despite the neutrality of the rest of her face. And it was hard to expect more than that-- not with she and the Cadence's forward viewscreen locked in a deathly staring contest.

The Brotherhood had corrupted every inch of the CEDF shipyards. With the Maw's devilish snarl hanging over the facility, it seemed a sprawling mess of darkness and decay. Crisp contours and elegant structures were lost to wear and tear, and the forest of agony that had grown over the years. Darting like wasps from their nest, the defense fleet began to mobilize, swarming, intercepting the distant light of the stars before it could reach the yards. The long shadows the fighters and capital ships cast over the facility snuffed out the liveliest sections, shrouding tones of red and yellow in a thick layer of blackness.

And the Alliance was expected to take the yards back... to somehow return them to some semblance of their former beauty and to purge the darkness from their corridors.

And just like that, Liedran's face sank again. A lone tear sprouted from the corner of her eye, as if her confidence were beginning to crack the second time that day.

"Launch the fighters-- hold defensive screen! Red alerts throughout the line! Sacheens-- load mass drivers. Dauntless and Rhapsody to vanguard." She rushed to overpower the surrounding cacophony of orders and transmissions from across the Alliance and CEDF lines. Liedran's voice became a hot poker, slicing clean through the clickclacks, the bangs. "Ahead slow! Begin initial missile bombardment!" Only seconds after the words left her lips, the brief silence she had managed to stir exploded into another bout of noise. Across the flagship's bridge, technicians relayed the commodore's orders through their consoles, across the decks and the line.

That diligence yielded a rapid unloading of ordnance chambers throughout the fleet. Clusters of blue and fiery orange marked the missiles' journey, diffusing as the swarms broke apart and cut at the throats of any hostile signature in sight. Trailing in the first wave's wake were the capital ships of the allied armada, drawing into effective turbolaser range of their Brotherhood counterparts. Fingers moved to hover over triggers, twitching, itching to embed superheated metal and compressed plasma into the hulls their targets.

Waiting...

Training their sights. Making the final slope and bearing calculations.

The moment the Alliance vanguard glanced the threshold of its weapons' range, multicolored beams of fire leapt from its ranks and began the melee over Copero.

 

[CETCOM]

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A N_E Y E_F O R_A N_E Y E
Operation Glacier

FINAL DAWN
COPERO , CHISS SPACE
POV : OVERSEER TRAAVAL PRYCE

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COPERO DEFENSE FORCE
Fleet Composition FDS Intimidator [100|70] FDS Persecutor [100|70]
Shipyard Defenses Golan Fighter Platform #1 [100|100] Golan Fighter Platform #2 [100|100]
Fighter Compliment TIE/fd Fighter | 22 Squadrons | 264/264 TIE/fd Interceptor | 10 Squadrons | 80/80

None of them could have been prepared for what was to come today. Despite reassurances from Supreme War Command and Grand Overseer Marlon Sularen , the Alliance still struck at Copero while the Final Dawn concentrated it's efforts elsewhere, most notably at Noris, Selvaris and Nothmir. These deployments had left the Copero Shipyards vulnerable to attack as the Shipyards where only defended by a Pair of Tyrant-Class Star Destroyers and another Pair of Golan Fighter Platforms, and now the Overseer's worst nightmare became a reality. Countless Alliance and Chiss Warships emerging from hyperspace, more then what the Overseer had anticipated based on Supreme War Command's estimation on how much forces the Alliance would bring to the Shipyards. They were greatly outnumbered and had little hope of victory, yet the Overseer remained calm ready to confront the Galactic Alliance. All he needed to do was buy some time for reinforcements to arrive.

From the Command Center of the Copero Shipyards, Overseer Traaval Pryce oversaw the defense of the Copero Shipyards standing firm and keeping his sights fixed on the Alliance Fleet from behind the viewports as alarms blared around him. They might be outnumbered but they still wouldn't give up the shipyards without a fight. They were the Final Dawn and their willpower was unmatched across the Galaxy. "What's the status on their fleet." the Overseer asked. "We have detected over a dozen ships so far but more are still pouring into the system. It's an all out attack, Overseer" an Officer said in response. "Do we have any assets present in the Shipyards" the Overseer asked once more. "Not much sir, just a bunch of Light Cruisers and Frigates under construction. Hardly a major loss." another officer said. "But the loss of Copero would surely affect Long-term plans for the Final Dawn. Send a distress signal to the rest of Supreme War Command. Inform them that we require immediate assistance. The sooner we get reinforcements, the better. For now we try and hold."

Outside the Shipyards, the Small Task Force had already begun to engage the Alliance Fleet with the Tyrants absorbing the first volley of the enemy attack while the Golan Fighter Platforms began to deploy their TIEs to confront their GA Starfighter counterparts and secure Starfighter Superiority. According to the many Tacticians and Analysts under Overseer Pryce's command, in accordance to Grand Overseer Sularen's Battlecarrier Doctrine , having Starfighter Superiority would still allow the Final Dawn to slow the Galactic Alliance's advance with the ability to strike on their Capital Ships and reduce the pressure they would place on the Two Tyrants. Thus the Battle over Copero had begun, with the Tyrants returning fire on the GA Fleet and the Starfighters moving in to engage the Alliance's own Starfighters. Hopefully CETCOM would receive the distress signal sent by Overseer Pryce and send the necessary reinforcements to back up the Overseer. The Final Dawn would stand its ground regardless of the odds, and they would make sure to give the Alliance hell for their transgression on their territory.

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Spoiler: TL;DR

• Final Dawn Forces at the Copero Shipyards are caught off-guard by the Alliance Attack but still stand their ground and ready their defenses
• The Pair of Tyrants absorb most of the initial enemy volley and return fire on the Alliance Fleet
• Fighters and Interceptors are deployed from both the Tyrants and the Fighter Platforms and move forth to intercept Alliance Starfigher Squadrons.

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Tags | Constantine Oliva | Tren Chaar | Orn'om ​

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[Joseph Torson]

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A N_E Y E_F O R_A N_E Y E
Obj I - Secure the Data

FINAL DAWN
SELVARIS, WILD SPACE

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Sixteen years. That is how long this Galactic Alliance has existed, since the unification of the Core Alliance and the High Republic. For Sixteen years, they had infected the Core and Deep Core once dominated by Imperialist Powers such as the Frozen Hand and the Core Imperial Confederate with their fragile Democratic Ideas, lying and cheating their way into power and usurping power from the righteous, those who had brought order to the Core while all the Galactic Alliance brought was instability and chaos. Joseph Torson, the son of the so-called Butcher of Byss, Gunther Torson had grown up on Byss having lived under the rule of both the Core Imperial Confederation and the Frozen Hand as well as the Regime of Marlon Sularen having witnessed the downfall of these Imperial Regimes at the hands of the Galactic Alliance and it's predecessor. He had watched as his homeworld was brought under foreign occupation, what they called "Liberation" yet they tore down Imperial Institutions, arrested and in some cases executed Imperial Officials and Sympathizers and sought to impose their foreign ideology upon a world which held a strong Imperialist and Humanocentric Tradition and Culture like Eriadu or Bastion.

When Sularen was overthrown and Byss was placed under Imperial Occupation, Gunther Torson entrusted his son to Marlon Sularen before he was captured and executed by the Galactic Alliance after they managed to track him down on a nearby Deep Core World. From there on, Joseph vowed to avenge his father and bring forth the downfall of the nation which had robbed everything from him, his family, his people, his home. Under the guidance of Sularen who became a father figure to Torson in the absence of his now-dead father, Torson joined the Politorate enduring harsh training with a thirst for vengeance rising to become a skilled Spy , Assassin and Saboteur as shown with his preliminary counter-intelligence and counter-insurgency operations on lol and Lao-Mon against internal threats. Now having been transferred to the Hand of Judgement, Joseph Torson at the age of 24 was ready to be deployed on the frontlines for the first time ready to exact his vengeance and make his contribution towards the downfall of the Galactic Alliance.

Now Joseph was here at Selvaris, leading the Retribution Corps in a major strike against an Alliance-held Orbital Outpost above the vongformed Planet with the goal of acquiring vital data in regards to the research conducted by the Galactic Alliance here at Selvaris which was deemed by Grand Overseer Marlon Sularen as potentially useful for the Final Dawn. Thus the FDS Raptor dropped from hyperspace over Selvaris, along with other elements of the Mawite Armada including the Maw Holy Armada and the Final Dawn's Wrath Squadron sent to help them. As the Mawite Fleet began to surround the Orbital Outpost, two Squadrons of FD-874/3.0 Troop Transports we're quickly deployed escorted by many Final Dawn TIE Fighters headed straight for the main hangar of the Orbital Outpost. Inside of one of the Transports was Special Agent Joseph Torson who was his specialized piece of armor (With properties similar to the Archeon-type Stormtrooper Armor) along with a mixed force of Soldiers from the Final Dawn Retribution Corps and Elite Raptor Commandos, representing some of the best soldiers ever deployed by the Final Dawn throughout the Second Great Hyperspace War.

Today, Joseph Torson would prove his worth to the Final Dawn and at last begin his quest to avenge his father's death. He was to become a force beyond reckoning and soon the Alliance would tremble upon hearing his name which would install the fear that would precede the restoration of Imperialism throughout the Deep Core Core Worlds. and make the Core Worlds pure again. The Galactic Alliance had wronged his father, his mentor and his people for far too long and soon Jorson have his justice, once and for all.

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Tags | OPEN​

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[Constantine Oliva]

Allies: Liedran Kathause Orn'om Tren Chaar
Enemies: CETCOM Marlon Sularen​

Hyperspace's swirling spectacle filled the viewport of the Revenge. The final moments of relative calm before battle commenced. The long-awaited counter attack. The target was strategically important, of course, but the attack was critical for several reasons. It would show the Alliance's allies in the Chiss that they had not been abandoned, while also demonstrating that the Alliance was far from out of the fighting. Most importantly, it gave me the chance to live up to my flagship's name.

Standing firm on the bridge, staring into space, I took a final breath as the 11th Flotilla entered real space, the combat already underway. Without a thought to anything but the situation at hand, I have my orders. The 253rd split off, centered on the Revenge.

"Lieutenant, I want their comms monitored but not blocked. They undoubtedly sent a distress call already, I want to know what's coming and when."

"Yessir."

"Captain, signal the 72nd line, I want them moving into position to engage this Star Destroyer-" I spoke, pointing at the icon representing the Persecutor. "Tell them the Chiss will handle the other destroyer."

A moment later, my command was executed.

"Signal Commodore Kathause," I waited again, allowing my holographic image to appear on the bridge of the Cadence before speaking again. “Commodore! I want to engage every enemy target simultaneously. Hit the second defensive platform and neutralize it. Oliva out.”

Another command, this one issued to the 253rd, ordered the cruiser line into battle. “Target the first defensive platform with all guns and torpedoes. The moment it’s shields are down, begin targeting weapon emplacements.”

Now, the final communication to start the battle. Orn’om wasn’t technically my commanding officer, as he was not a member of the GADF, but he still outranked me. His force was powerful, and would be crucial to securing victory quickly and without heavy casualties. .

“Captain, please contact the Chiss admiral.” Again, I waited a moment before speaking. “Admiral, Alliance forces are engaging all defensive emplacements as well as the Star destroyer Persecutor. I request that your ships target the remaining enemy star destroyer.”

253rd Line​

Revenge​	Engaging Golan Platform 1
Glory	Engaging Golan Platform 1
Adventure	Engaging Golan Platform 1
Triumph	Engaging Golan Platform 1
Raptor	Holding in rear
5x Oswaft Corvettes	Supporting fire

72nd Line​

Warspite​	Engaging FDS Persecutor
Defiance	Engaging FDS Persecutor
Endurance	Engaging FDS Persecutor
Firebrand	Engaging FDS Persecutor
Majestic	Engaging FDS Persecutor
4x Lateran Corvettes	Engaging FDS Persecutor/supporting fire
Oberon	Supporting fire

 

[Ishida Ashina]

LIGHT TRAVELS FASTER THAN ANYTHING
SELVARIS | JUNGLES | APPROACHING OUTPOST
LIGHT THINKS IT TRAVELS FASTER THAN ANYTHING
BUT IT IS WRONG
NO MATTER HOW FAST LIGHT TRAVELS,
IT FINDS DARKNESS HAS ALWAYS GOT THERE FIRST.
AND IS WAITING FOR IT.

​

Copero was where her heart yearned to be, but it would have been selfish and unstrategic. Between her experiences on Asog, and Master Sardun’s history with the Yuuzhan Vong, their aptitudes were quickly assigned to support the reinforcements arriving on Selvaris.

But Ishida still had much to learn. She’d escaped Asog only because she had been observant, and desparate — skill hadn’t been much present. Worse still, she’d been scared. There had been so many, and it had felt like a vast sea of emptiness that was impossibly heavy all at once. The knowledge of her fear hung between herself and her master solemnly. As if it were another passenger within the dropship’s red bathed hull.

Red lights changed to yellow, and seconds later turned green. The doors slid open, the soldiers stood aside, and the dropship tilted enough to deposit the Jedi at the halfway point between the landing zone near the Alliance outpost and….all that approached.

She landed in a crouch and the ground squelched around her. The first attacks against the Jedi were from the environment: The air, thick and humid, immediately choked the foreigners and became heavy around their shoulders. The ground, wetlands that had turned to salt marsh, sought to devour them. The bugs, colourful and small, buzzed and harped in erratic patterns against any exposed flesh. Random branches and looping vines tried their best to slip nooses around their necks.

When the soldier’s first outcry of shock and pain aired, Ishida and Michael were too far to hear it. But they could sense it. The look they shared was brief, but enough for both to amplify their speed. Ishida, smaller, outpaced Sardun by a few steps.

Fronds and other foliage blurred to nothing more than streaks of gree and other cool coloured tones, only once or twice registering as polyhedral options. The source of distress was audible now, and Ishida could hear inhuman and human noises intermixing.

Darkness was swelling up ahead. And it made the irritation against her chest hum with anticipation.

It had started out as an itch — which she’d ignored. It had been so light amidst the rest of the planet’s stimuli that Ishida attributed it to the environment making her skin crawl. But the deeper the pair trekked in silence, the more irritating, and more concentrated the sensation had grown. It wasn’t her entire body, just the skin along her right side between her collarbone and rib.

Now, as she ran, that sensation felt like a clutching tightness with a heartbeat of its own.

Bark cracked meters away, the trunk it coated groaned and teetered. Green leaves clapped and shimmered on their way down to the earth, collapsing with a ground-quaking thud. A palm struck against the druxy, freshly-fallen trunk as she vaulted over the final obstacle to the clearing.

Without hesitation, her sabre hummed to life and drew against the back of the leg of the massive beast. She meant to poise herself protectively between the Devaronian and the soldiers, but when she did, her eyes widened with horrified realization at the recognition of his face. Disbelief overshadowed decisiveness.

“You..” And worse than that, the familiarity of the darkness that swelled about him, materializing in the palm of his hand. It mesmerized her long enough for the scar to make a connection, and all that had been tingling, prickling, itching, culminated at the likeness of its maker in thrumming intensity that matched the atomization of darkness in the Devaronian devil's palm.

‘Ah!’ She gasped at the sharpness of the sudden agony and clutched at her chest. Quickly, to conceal the blip of weakness, her palm curled into a fist to pound her breast instead. As if she could pummel away that which revved her dormant scar to life.

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NJO | GA | Michael Sardun

| Valery Noble
BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW | Laoth

| Kralmus Orr | Dodhorn Harert

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Copero: The Ebruchized (Objective B)​

Location: Copero, Subterranean Laboratories
Tags: Silas Westgard | Lief | Starlin Rand

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Tu'teggacha deploys security doors to divide his foes
• He releases all of the failed Ebruchized to attack any intruders

Stepping up to one of the cloning vats, a vast transparisteel cylinder full of bubbling, churning goo, Tu'teggacha ran a knobby hand along its smooth surface. An outside observer might have seen the gesture as a caress, an expression of affection for beings that were - in some twisted sense - his offspring, but affection could not have been further from his thoughts. He felt no love or tenderness for the mutants taking shape in the oversized test tubes all around him, or indeed for anything. What he felt in that moment was a sense of dark triumph, a feeling of mastery over his own kind at last.

The Taskmaster loathed other Ebruchi. He had grown up on the ramshackle cruiser of a nomadic pirate clan, one of the countless groups of his kind that menaced the tangled spacelanes of the Unknown Regions. From his first memories these brutal marauders had despised, neglected, and abused him. They had been able to tell that he was different, that he possessed strange and twisted gifts that brought bad luck and ill thoughts on those around him, and he had been punished for it long before he had any control over it. Beaten, starved, harassed at every turn, he had struggled to survive among his kind.

His very name, Tu'teggacha, meant accursed one.

In time, his power had grown, and he had used it to take control of that clan cruiser. He had tormented his tormentors, afflicting them with waking nightmares, slowly turning their minds inside out until they went mad with terror and pain. But it had never felt like enough; only now, with the DNA of his species twisted into the mutant slaves of the Maw, did the Taskmaster's revenge on the Ebruchi feel complete. This would be their role in the war, and their legacy in the galaxy's eyes for generations to come: the sires of misbegotten slaves, broken to the will of the Brotherhood, howling in unending pain.

The flashing lights and blaring noise of the intruder alarm jerked him from his vindictive thoughts, and he looked up with a start, facial tendrils writhing in agitation. Reaching out with the Force confirmed the terrible truth that the cameras hidden throughout the facility revealed on the monitors: the Jedi, those self-righteous busybodies who fought to keep control of the galaxy and called it "peace", were here. Tu'teggacha howled in rage and frustration. It was too early! He had so much more to accomplish here, so many more mutant slaves to create, and already the Alliance had come to trash his laboratory.

"This is why we can't have nice things," he blubbered, sighing heavily.

Because of the Jedi and their self-serving "heroism".

Well, they would not derail his revenge, nor his greatest contribution yet to the Brotherhood war effort! The Taskmaster knew what he had to d: he needed to get the intact, sane specimens onto the evacuation shuttles, so that they could reach the Mawite fleet and begin their roles as navigators and fleet advisors. Everything else was secondary... except his own survival, of course, which was always his highest priority. Scuttling over to the security console, he slammed a knobby fist down on the lockdown button, sealing the security doors studded throughout the tunnels to divide up his foes a little...

... and releasing every last one of his failed experiments.

They would hunt in swarms, clawing and biting and crushing with their tentacles anything that wasn't one of their own misbegotten kind. With any luck it would be enough to at least slow the Jedi down. Tu'teggacha had dealt with them and their laser-swords before, surviving each of those experiences only by the skin of his squidlike ring of teeth, and knew that nothing would hold them for long - not heavy doors nor winding mazes nor a small legion of twisted clone monsters. But he would buy as much time has he could, and he would use that time wisely, evacuating the things that truly mattered.

What he did not know was that one Padawan was already close...

... close enough to bumble right into his laboratory.

One Silas Westgard , to be precise.

And perhaps others to follow...

 

[Kralmus Orr]

Selvaris: Jungle Huntin' (Objective II)
​

Location: Selvaris, Deep Jungle
Tags: Dodhorn Harert

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Kralmus stumbles across Dodhorn's tomb

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Yes, it was good indeed to be back in the wild again, the place where Kralmus Orr truly belonged.

The Mandalorian cannibal ranged ahead of the main Mawite force; as always, he preferred to move on his own, without having to wait on - or even consider - anyone else. It gave him a chance to get acclimated to a new planet, to spot its hazards and learn its signs. He watched the plant life, the way lichens grew and vines hung, how trees leaned and how the groundcover betrayed animal tracks. He listened for the fauna, the buzzing and the howling and the chirping, even the soft footfalls and wingbeasts of creatures moving through the woodland. His helmet amplified such sounds, helping him to learn them, keeping him alert for signs of both danger and opportunity.

And yet Kralmus found himself distracted that day. He had been since he'd arrived, and he couldn't quite say why. Something was tugging at his mind, like the feeling that he'd forgotten something important but wasn't sure what it was. The tug had a direction, too, a pull that slowly made him veer off-course, away from the Alliance base he'd been closing in on. It wasn't usually his way to pay such things any heed; he was a focused hunter, paying attention only to his surroundings and his battle-honed instincts. But this pull felt somehow familiar. He knew, without knowing how he knew it, that he was being tugged toward something even he would consider to be important.

This destiny crap was really more Mand'alor's thing than his, but he supposed he could go along with it.

Kralmus stumbled across the entrance of the tomb almost literally, barely managing to catch himself before tripping over the jagged stone. Behind his visor, he frowned at the sight. As far as he knew, Selvaris was not home to any significant settlements; there had been a Vong prison camp here long ago, but he'd never heard anything to indicate that there would be older buildings. As he poked around a little more, the carvings around the entrance caught his attention. Some of the symbols were foreign to him, though he had seen a few of them on the robes and armor of Mawite champions and could guess that they were Sith in origin. But the others.... unmistakably Mandalorian.

Sith and Mandalorian? Yes, this was really more Mand'alor's thing than his. But Mand'alor wasn't here now.

That left Kralmus to figure out what all this was about.

Switching his visor over to night vision, the cannibal Mando stepped through the shattered stone doors, ripped open by a Brotherhood bomb in one of the initial attacks. It must have been way off target... or else guided by the same mysterious power he could feel guiding his steps, a call from within the darkness of the tomb. That darkness hid a surprisingly simple room, its walls bare of ornamentation. Bones crunched beneath Kralmus's feet, though, snapping under his heavy tread; the place was strewn with the dead, their ancient weapons rusted through. Some were clearly Mandalorian, though their armor was truly archaic, thousands of years old at a minimum. What was this place?

Beyond the dusty skeletons and worn equipment, there was only one feature in the tomb: a great sarcophagus atop a raised dais, with four dark statues standing guard over it. But were they guarding it from the outside world, or was it the other way around? Curiosity - and that insistent tug in the back of his mind - got the better of Kralmus, and he walked cautiously across the room, watchful in case of traps. But no swinging blades or poisoned darts came at him, and he reached the sarcophagus safely. "Now," he murmured, lips pulling back over teeth filed down to sharp points, "what do we have here?" Something that would please Mand'alor, perhaps. Help him bring carnage.

This might be a terrible mistake, an ancient evil unleashed upon the galaxy... but what did Kralmus Orr care about that?

He lived for chaos and slaughter. With a mad chuckle, he pressed the button that would end the hibernation cycle.

 

[Dodhorn Harert]

Dodhorn Harert, the Hellwolf of Mandalore
Alor of the Clan Harert, Sith Lord, Former Mandalore the Ruthless​

Location: To awake, return to life
Location: Selvaris, Deep Jungle
Equipment: Simple black dress
Tag: Kralmus Orr | Open

[ Death Come Near Me ]
<"Mandalorian or ur-Kittât"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

The endless, eternal dream…

But not; the dream is corrupted. As the cold was no longer so deep, more and more things appeared in the sleeping Mandalorian subconscious. She was on the battlefield, fighting again, sometimes with a lightsaber, other times with her beskad. Depending on what kind of opponent and how she was able to humiliate them best. She remembered when she was trapped; even then she laughed at them that she could not be killed and destroyed in such ways. She seems to have been right.

As Kralmus pressed the button, the hibernation began to end. The monitor on the sarcophagus has so far shown that the person who was inside is showing stable lifesigns. Although the heartbeat almost completely stopped due to the cold, these were the normal values. Now the signs of life began to intensify, the heartbeat accelerating. The cold inside began to subside. Almost certainly no one thought this would ever happen. Why wasn't she killed? It is unknown.

It took about half a minute for the process to be over, after nearly six thousand years. The process ended with the top of the sarcophagus opening very slightly. The hermetic closure has opened. Inside, Dodhorn woke up at that moment and opened her eyes…

She was hungry; even Kralmus could feel her hunger. The woman reached out to the Force, the four black statues suddenly changing. They moved. Under the black "mask," they suddenly had faces, four human faces that showed fear and dread. They wanted to move, apparently to escape, to run away from her, but they had no chance. There were four soft pops and the four sculptures exploded. However, the ashes remained there where the original figures were, did not fall to the ground, and instead began to flow into the sarcophagus.

The feeling of hunger subsided and then passed as Dodhorn devoured the four unfortunate slaves who had been locked up for thousands of years, waiting for the former Mandalore, Alore and Sith Lord to awaken. The woman's wrinkled skin smoothed as the life force of the four slaves began to nourish her. Muscle atrophy and weakness caused by hibernation are gone. She felt relaxed and strong. As she looked up, the Hellwolf saw only the top of the sarcophagus in the supine position.

She reached up and pushed it to the side, she was physically stronger than the average human because of her Valkyri blood, although this was not apparent because of her fragile physique. The top of the sarcophagus fell to the side and the woman sat up in it. The first thing she saw was Kralmus. Dodhorn was a woman of relatively tall and skinny stature, raising the red-gold Sith eyes to the man in armour, lazily. Her skin is pale, snow-white, as is her long, slightly wavy silver-white hair. She wore a long, simple black dress as if it were just a dead veil.

She didn’t recognize the possible clan symbol, nor the style of the appearance of the armour.

<"Who are you? And how much time has passed since I was imprisoned?"> asked in Mando'a, though her wording and accent was quite archaic, her voice firm like who got used to the commanding.

Once all dreams end…

 

[Starlin Rand]

Objective B: The Ebruchized
Lief Silas Westgard Tu'teggacha
​

Sirens blared as an intruder alarm was inevitably triggered. Doors started to seal shut around them, and deeper in the corridors he heard something slimy and shrieking headed their way.

“Eli, don’t worry about killing all these things,” Starlin told his apprentice. “We’ve got to get to the lab and stop the ones making them.”

On the other hand, the mutated Ebruchized certainly did pose a problem, if only due to their sheer numbers. Starlin was rapidly discovering more than he cared to know about their physiology. He learned that kinetic blows bounced off their flesh like rubber when his claws failed to break their skin, and that they didn’t burn easily when he tried to breathe fire on them. His lightsaber and shoto were somewhat effective against them, enough to keep them at bay, but they weren’t going to cut it (literally) against the massive swarm now headed in his and Eli’s direction.

Headed toward them from all directions, actually… Maybe fighting their way to the labs via the tunnels wasn’t such a good idea after all…?

Starlin looked around frantically, his gaze eventually drifting up to a vent on the ceiling. With the Force he wrenched it open, then floated inside the hole. “Eli!” he shouted to get the Padawan’s attention, before reaching out and dragging him up with telekinesis. It was a close call, Ebruchized clawing at the kid's legs and feet as he was dragged out of their reach by the invisible Force.

“You okay?” Starlin asked. The ventilation shaft was dark and musty. “I assume these must lead to the labs, or I’m going to just… cry, I guess,” he muttered. Provided his Padawan was unharmed, he’d lead the way forward.

 

[Tren Chaar]

D E N I A L _ R E D U X

COPERO
B-WING HEAVY STARFIGHTER​

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Revenant Squadron Leader: CDR Tren Chaar Galactic Alliance RADM Constantine Oliva CDRE Liedran Kathause Chiss Ascendency ADM Orn'om Brotherhood of the Maw CETCOM Spoiler: Summary -Revenant arrives in-system -They start their attack run on the shipyards

The lines of hyperspace collapsed as a squadron of tiny starfighters decanted back into realspace. Flashes of light in the foreground, deadly exchanges between the Galactic Alliance and Brotherhood of the Maw, illuminated the darkness of space against a background of distant specks of light, a stark reminder that the wider galaxy went about its business, unaware and uncaring about the chaos that was about to be unleashed over Copero.

“All wings report in,” Commander Tren Chaar ordered to the pilots of Revenant Squadron. The Umbaran checked his scopes and run a final diagnostic to ensure his B-wing heavy starfighter was ready for combat. He fine-tuned his shields to divert power to the forward arrays - an Alliance cordon of the surrounding hyperlanes would keep his back clear for the time being. “Revenant on-station,” he declared to Commodores Liedran Kathause and Constantine Oliva over the Alliance comnet. Revenant would get the job done, so long as the lesser units stayed out of their way.

Copero was well known to the pilots. It was here, years earlier, that the then-newly formed squadron had launched a surprise assault against the invading Brotherhood to deny them control of the Chiss shipyards. The tables were now turned, with the Alliance the invaders, and the Maw seeking to protect their precious shipbuilding facilities. Just as before, the mission remained the same - destroy the massive orbital facility to hinder the construction and repair of Brotherhood vessels.

“Set course to vector three-one,” Chaar explained, plotting a new course on the navicomputer toward the closest Brotherhood shipyard. “Two Flight, scratch those Eyeballs.” The X-wings may not have the speed and manoeuvrability of the TIE fighters and interceptors, their piloting skills more than made up for it. “Three Flight, draw surface fire.” The fast-moving A-wings would be all but impossible to hit, but the Brotherhood gunners on the shipyards would try nonetheless. And when they did, the B-wings of One Flight with their heavy payloads would be standing by to destroy the turrets.

“We left the job undone last time,” he added, uncharacteristically introducing some non-mission chatter to the Revenant com channel. “Let’s finish what we started.”