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

[Darth Ptolemis]

JUNGLES OF SELVARIS
OBJECTIVE II

TAG: Kralmus Orr Dodhorn Harert Valery Noble Ishida Ashina Laoth
Equipment in bio.

NOW I'M READY, I'M READY NOW
​

Beeping machines and the faint smell of burnt flesh served as the building blocks of the Alliance outpost's dreadful atmosphere.

Bodies with terror forever frozen onto their faces lay all around the robed figure crowned in a halo of tragedy – gentle shadows sliding on and off of golden spikes following the slightest of head movements. Lord Ptolemis made most of what the Maw could offer him; its armies' ceaseless advance demolished wall after wall, opening up unforeseen avenues for gathering knowledge and expanding his understanding of the interconnectedness of life and the Force. As the dark lord dug deep into the databanks of the outpost, typing away at the main computer, copying everything the Alliance's researches have learned, his attention drifted off for a moment.

He looked at a corpse lying face down on the floor, a single gaping hole punched by a lightsaber visible on the dead woman's chest.​

Like the flash of a lightning came a heralding feeling through the Force. His head snapped at the window in front of him. He stepped back, allowing the feeling to linger, to give it time to unfold and share its secret. He gazed out the window, the dense jungle writhing with life, beckoning him. Then came the thunder through the Force, its tremors demanding obedience and authority. 'Most curious.' His dark self spoke to him, enticed by the completely unexpected foreboding through the soul of the planet he was initially apathetic toward.

He stepped forward again, unplugging the datapad that in the meantime had finished transferring the total accumulated knowledge of the Alliance scientists of this outpost. Any kind of knowledge he would be glad to find; wildlife biology, mutation patterns of the Vong, hypotheses on how to weaponize local flora or fauna. As he left the building, he stepped over dozens of bodies with fatal wounds that were identical to that of the corpse by the window. Their blood-shot eyes screaming for mercy, their contorted bodies begging for release.

First he passed his own recon ship parked on the small clearing around the outpost, then the jungle swallowed him. He marched on carefully, his steps unmasked, his presence in the Force exploded to deter the savage wildlife. The enticing rumble from before propelled him forward, feeling the touch of destiny upon his mind as it reached out initially.

There it was. A shattered door of stone, framing an oppressive darkness within. He let his own shadow feel out his way ahead of him, scouring the mysterious opening ahead for any traps or surprises. It bore many omens, but no direct danger seemed to wait for him. Yet.

'I need - to know.'​

With his blank mask he looked around once, tugged on the chain between his shoulders and stepped closer to the opening, his presence slithering ominously through the Force. These slithering limbs soon enveloped two entities in the dark yonder, one drenched in the Force, but both marked by blood spilt.

The jagged shadow of his monochrome silhouette merged into the darkness ahead, announcing his presence to whomever may be present within the tomb. The strange figure of Darth Ptolemis observed silently whatever would happen next.

​

 

[Lief]

With the thunderous approach of yet more failed experiments on the horizon, Eliphas grew paler and paler with every passing second. So many creatures would be making these tunnels their home. So many squandered lifeforms he'd be forced to cut down lest he himself be pulled into the depths of the Nether. Was he worth more than they were? Why was his life to be protected and not theirs? Dread set in.​

​

And then Starlin spoke up. Forcing himself to center his mind and breathe he nodded his head and approached his Master even as more of the creatures began to close in on either side. He did his best to hold them off, but it was an overwhelming number and he found himself being pushed back.​

​

A clatter resounded at his back, and before he could fully comprehend what was happening he found himself lifted up into the air. The creatures lashed out, trying to pull him back down to the ground, and the boy found himself without one of his boots in the process. Trouser legs were torn, nails bit into the skin, but soon enough he was up out of reach within the vent system alongside Starlin.​

​

Eliphas let out the longest sigh of his life, and glanced down at his legs. Scratched up and sore, but not enough to keep him from pressing on. He pulled a Kolto shot from his belt, taking note of how many others remained - 3 - and stuck himself with it. It would begin to do its thing slowly over time, but at least he'd get the ball rolling. For now they had bigger concerns to contend with.​

​

"I'm okay" he finally replied, with a shake of his head. "How does everyone do it?" A slight pause, before he pushed a hand up through his hair. "I can feel the life leaving them..."​

​

With the cultists back on Erakhis he hadn't even really killed any of them, he'd just held them off. This? This was madness.​

​

Starlin Rand Silas Westgard Tu'teggacha ​

 

[Kralmus Orr]

Selvaris: Jungle Huntin' (Objective II)
​

Location: Selvaris, Deep Jungle
Tags: Dodhorn Harert

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Kralmus watches Dodhorn awaken and invites her to join the battle

​

Atop the ancient sarcophagus, mechanisms whirred and lights flashed, the only outward signs that six thousand years of hibernation were coming to an end. With a sharp hiss of escaping air, the stale atmosphere preserved and recirculated over so many millennia rushing out to join the humid winds of the jungle, the seal popped open. The lid slid aside, and Kralmus Orr caught his first glimpse of the ancient oubliette's occupant. Tall, slender, and well-muscled, her pale form was garbed in a simple but elegant dress, its black fabric seeming to swallow what little light had filtered into the tomb chamber. And then, just as abruptly as the seal had broken, her eyes snapped open.

Hunger. He felt it radiate from her in waves... and he recognized a kindred spirit, for this woman did not hunger for ordinary food.

She hungered for life, hungered to devour sentient beings in the ultimate act of conquest. Just as he did.

Kralmus did not see her move, but evidently the sleeper had made some kind of signal, because at that moment the four statues changed. The cannibal had assumed that these were mere ornamentation, figurative guardians standing watch over the tomb. He was wrong about both their purpose and their demeanor. He watched in curious amusement as living faces appeared from behind the stone visages; he'd never guessed that the statues themselves were stasis chambers as well. And the occupants were not guardians. They were terrified prisoners, captives who had only an instant to resume their ancient fear... before the woman fed. In the wake of her dark hunger, there was only ash.

"Hm," Kralmus said, observing the aftermath. "Efficient, but you don't get to taste them. Kind of defeats the purpose."

He was exceedingly proud of his ability to grill, sauté, fry, and otherwise deliciously prepare sentient flesh.

Who are you? the woman asked, regarding him without fear - and indeed, if he'd had the power to turn people to ash with his mind, he would have feared nothing as well. It took him a moment to puzzle out her words; he rarely spoke in Mando'a, preferring to taunt his prey in Basic so that they could understand, and the dialect the sleeper used was long obsolete. He got the gist of it, though. And how much time has passed since I was imprisoned? The mad Mandalorian shrugged casually, brushing a bit of drifting ash from his shoulder guard. "I'm Kralmus Orr," he told her, "and how the feth should I know?" Did she expect that he'd been hanging around with a clock the whole time?

Smacking his hands together to get rid of the rest of the dust, he looked back toward the entrance. "I'm here to hunt Mand'alor's enemies, and then eat them, given the chance. So, welcome back, sleepyhead. Wanna come kill people?" Kralmus Orr was no deep thinker. He did not particularly care who this woman was, or how long she'd been here, or why she'd been locked away. He was impressed by her, certainly, and was eager to see how she'd perform on the battlefield - she seemed to be both Sith and Mandalorian, just like Mand'alor the Unchained himself, so she would probably be a joy to watch in her death-dealing. But until he saw her fight...

... well, he wouldn't be sure what to make of her until then. "Got any armor stashed?" he asked, glancing around.

 

[Starlin Rand]

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

“Not easily,” Starlin answered. “And never carelessly.”

He shimmied through the narrow space, crawling and wriggling toward the faint sense of other beings, bright with Force Sensitivity. At least one was of the Light—somebody had managed to get to the lab before them, it seemed. If they were alone, they’d need help.

“Look at it this way, kid,” he muttered, pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Every Jedi is like a gardener. Other people are either flowers or weeds. You have to figure out which ones are flowers and which ones are weeds, and the weeds have to be removed. If you don’t—if you see them all as equals with a universal right to life, the weeds will overrun the garden and choke the flowers.”

He hesitated, the metaphor leaving a bad taste in his mouth. “That doesn’t account for redemption, which can happen. A weed can become a flower in this crazy universe. But redemption, sad to say, is the exception that proves the rule.”

Finding another vent grate, he peered inside. The presences were very close now…

 

[Dodhorn Harert]

Dodhorn Harert, the Hellwolf of Mandalore
Alor of 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 | Darth Ptolemis | Open

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

Before she spoke, she heard the man's words. It was hard to understand them at first because it sounded very different from what the woman knew. Not like the one she used, even though she also knew the galactic common language. Dodhorn didn't know how long she had slept, but the language had certainly changed. She could not put it any differently than to become more modern. Maybe only centuries have passed or not. She can also be on a planet where they speak differently. But not when the Hellwolf sat up, she saw what armour the man was wearing. So she was more confident that a lot of time had passed.

"I assumed... You are intelligent. But I was wrong." she replied in a calm voice, though with a mocking, biting and condescending emphasis.

This time she used a common language, although it also sounded infinitely archaic. She was sure the man didn't know her. He serves the current Mand'alor, and not Mandalore; how strange sounding it has, weird and modern. The man didn't say a name, though Dodhorn doubted she knew who the mentioned warrior was. Sleepyhead? No, the man looked decidedly stupid. The flames of the anger ignited at the insult in the woman's eyes, and luckily she managed to suppress the laughter about to break when the man asked the question.

Wanna come kill people? as if he was a large puppy who wants to play with food or whatever. It was pathetic and disgusting. There was disgust on her lips for a moment, the same emotion flashed in her eyes. Although she had to admit it was a simple and brutal solution. It was expedient to send such in advance in battle. And she always did that when she went to war. Based on the last short conversation, she didn't think the man would know how much time had passed. Maybe the name, the clan and they help. Although she has already given up on this… but he can be useful.

"I am Dodhorn Harert, the Alor of the Clan Harert, the Hellwolf of Mandalore; and Mandalore the Ruthless, that is, I was, obviously. Do you still don't know how much time has passed since then?" she asked in a bored voice.

Kill; no, she needed someone alive now to steal their memories to find out at what age she woke up. First work, then fun. And the fun was to kill and enslave others. But first…

"I need information because you obviously can't provide it… I need someone who is smarter than you. I need their memories. Then… after that it can be about killing others." she told him.

Armour? That was a very good question. The Hellwolf stood up in the sarcophagus, with a light, elegant and springy motion, not leaning on the edge of the "walls". She stepped to the edge of the object and then jumped to the ground. Her arrival was silent, she was barefoot. Dodhorn reached into the Force to improve her vision. So she could finally see better in the dark, and she looked around. Recognized the weapons on the ground, the lightsaber that had been cut in half; it was hers. A shattered, rusty beskad, it was hers too. She finally saw the armour it had once seen better days. She held out her hand and raised it with telekinetics. The armour fell to pieces, in vain she was very careful.

"No, it was a research lab. And that was my armour. But I don’t need it either, I can solve any situation without it and without a weapon." she replied in an arrogant tone.

She wanted to move closer to Kralmus, where the exit was, but she stopped abruptly and looked at where she felt the presence of Darth Ptolemis at that moment.

"We are not alone." she told him. "There!"

With her words, she lifted her right hand at the shadow at the same time, over her fingers, red lightened tiny energy discharges appeared as the sign of the Force Lightnings...

 

[Olly Piblarian]

COPERO - REVENANT SQUADRON
Tren Chaar Liedran Kathause Constantine Oliva CETCOM

​

He was right on Tren Chaar ’s tail, staying locked into formation as they drew closer to the orbital facility. “Two, ready!” He barked over coms at his commanders request to check in. His Yoda bobble head joyfully waggled its head at him from his dashboard as his focus remained undistracted from the mission ahead of them. He was experiencing some anxiety after their last mission, where he had almost been killed by a severe electrical storm. His hand shook slightly on the control as he took in deep breaths and exhaled in quick procession, attempting to amp himself up for another tussle.

He turned off his comms for a moment as he attempted to self-motivate “Whooo!! You GOT this! You GOT this Olly! Common boy! Yeah!” His face betrayed the excitement and passion in his voice, an edge of fear evident. He turned the comms back on.

Olly adjusted his vector according to Chaar.

Tren Chaar said:

“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.”​

“Hell yeah!” He exclaimed, forcing a sense of excitement that he wasn’t actually feeling. He followed Chaar in closer towards the station, transferring more energy to forward shields in preparation for incoming fire.

​

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

JUNGLES OF SELVARIS
OBJECTIVE II

TAG: Kralmus Orr Dodhorn Harert Valery Noble Ishida Ashina Laoth

Equipment in bio.

NOW I'M READY, I'M READY NOW
​

The enigmatic observer standing before the tomb entrance was unmoving; wet, meaty leaves from the overhead canopy fluttered and fell around him. His mind meticulously scanned the interior of the tomb, recognizing curious details inside; before he could achieve understanding, however, a timeworn signature in the Force, manifesting in the form of a lady dressed to kill, suddenly flared up.

~ Hold, revenant. ~ Echoed his telepathic voice through the aether, undertones of the Dark Side revealing where he stood in the cosmos. ~ I am not your enemy. ~ He stepped back under the stone gate, and reached down on the ground, picking up a broken branch.

He began walking inside, calmly. His grasp tensed around the branch he was holding, his electric will heating up the object, streaks of carbonation spreading over its surface in quick succession. The Masked One came to a halt just as the wood burst aflame in his gloved hand. Ptolemis let go of the burning branch, and ever so gently levitated the object up and away from himself, illuminating his surroundings.

The burning branch revealed a fair-haired lady of death in front of him, the demanding image of a horned warrior, and the cryptic Darth Ptolemis with his palm facing the others, holding the floating torch with nothing but his mind. His eerie gaze transferred over to the warrior, and for the first time, his terrible voice was heard. – I recognize you, Death's Hand. – He looked back at the lady. – You, I can only sense. I am Darth Ptolemis, a scholar of the New Sith Order.

Who might you be?

​

 

[Kralmus Orr]

Selvaris: Jungle Huntin' (Objective II)
​

Location: Selvaris, Deep Jungle
Tags: Dodhorn Harert | Darth Ptolemis

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Kralmus banters with the others

​

"I assumed you are intelligent," the coldly-beautiful woman told him, "but I was wrong."

Kralmus blinked, then roared with laughter. "Well now," he said, still chuckling, "it seems that your sass survived the suspended animation process just fine. For someone who was a popsicle until about two minutes ago, you've got quite a mouth on you!" She told him who she was, an impressive list of deadly-sounding titles - and a clan he'd never heard of. When she claimed to be Mand'alor, though, the mirth abruptly left his eyes - not that she could see it, since he was wearing his helmet. Did this woman intend to try and reclaim that title? Was he going to have to put her back to sleep, this time for good, in order to preserve Mand'alor the Unchained's holy crusade?

"Do you still not know how much time has passed since then?" she asked, in the tone of a snooty college professor chastising a student who hadn't done the assigned reading. Kralmus laughed again, then shrugged. "Maybe the Mandalorians of your time, whenever that was, studied history," he shot back. "I, on the other hand, study fighting and killing. That's why I win my battles, and don't end up locked in a coffin for a million years or whatever." He expected a snide insult in response, and he got one. "I need information," she sneered, "and because you obviously can't provide it, I need someone who is smarter than you." The cannibal chuckled again.

He remained deeply amused by her sharp tongue, which he would miss if he had to kill her.

The woman got up, stepping from the raised bed of the sarcophagus and dropping soundlessly to the tomb's stone floor. Raising one hand, she reached out with that invisible Force mojo that Kralmus had seen Jedi and Sith use, confirming the suspicions that'd begun when he'd seen the Sith runes carved on the entrance. It was a little less impressive this time, because the armor she was reaching for fell apart, broken down by the passage of countless years without good maintenance. "It was a research lab," she told him, and he laughed. "Looks like the kind of research even I would enjoy," he replied, gesturing around at the broken weapons and decaying skeletons.

Before he could ask more about her claim to need neither weapon nor armor, she spoke again, sharply. "We are not alone!" Kralmus whirled at her words, looking back toward the entrance of the tomb, and held his axe at the ready. An eerie figure, dark-robed and masked, stood at the shattered stone doors. The Mandalorian watched, confused, as the figure - without saying a word, so far as he could tell, since Ptolemis had telepathically spoken only to Dodhorn so far - picked up a branch, stepped inside the tomb, and somehow set the stick on fire with his mind before sending it floating away through the air. "Ooooooookay then," Kralmus muttered. Sith were all nutjobs, weren't they?

Before he could decide whether to start swinging his axe, a dark voice echoed in his mind. "I recognize you, Death's Hand," it said, the words uttered in a cold metallic whisper. "Uh, ok?" Kralmus replied aloud, still confused by what this mysterious presence wanted. "Can we help you?" Based on the Sith's recognition of Kralmus, he must be part of the mysterious New Sith Order... which was probably good news. The New Sith were part of the Maw, and thus allies of Mand'alor the Unchained and Death's Hand. If this woman intended to try to usurp Mand'alor's title, the Sith would probably help him fight her. Probably. They were always jockeying for position, after all.

For now, he just waited, curious about what both of these Force-using whackos would say next.

 

[Cale Gunderson]

​

Location: Selvaris, Deep Jungle
Engaging: No one yet, if you wanna fight a cripple and his padawan tho, pull up
Tags: Valery Noble | Darth Ptolemis | Kralmus Orr | Dodhorn Harert | Laoth | Michael Sardun | Ishida Ashina | Aleksandr Stirsea

Aleksandr had wanted to be on the ship, bound for Corpero, but Cale had ruled otherwise. His student, his boy, he'd never seen war, not really, and he'd damn well never gone blade to blade with Sith. Cale had, and Aleks wasn't ready. That was his choice to make as master, and Aleks' duty to comply.

Aleks hated that of course, Cale had never been one to be overzealous in asserting his position as master, but he was now. They were going somewhere to try and save lives, not take them, but Cale had learned the two usually went hand in hand.

But Noble was on Selvaris, and Cale wanted to make a point of it that he hadn't just wandered off, that her actions had meant something. There was nothing to Cale more valuable than that.

So the master and apprentice stepped from the threshold of their ship, and onto the muck of the jungle floor. Cale didn't go for his saber yet, and instead simply trusted in the force to guide him. There was darkness around them, all around them, and the traces of light, the people they were there to save, felt all the more fleeting by the second. He wondered privately if he'd not put Aleks in more danger by coming here than Corpero, but he squashed those fears down deep, and found his courage instead.

"Stay close to me, understand?"

 

[Valery Noble]

Location: Selvaris
Valery: Appearance
Outfit: Factory Link
Weapon: Double-Bladed Lightsaber
Tag: Darth Ptolemis

With relative ease, Valery maneuvered herself through the thick flora of Selvaris' jungle, her mind focused on one thing alone — reaching the data center where she had felt life fade away very abruptly. The sudden deaths still echoed through the Force and made it much easier to track down where she believed the Maw had made one of their first strikes. Sadly, it also meant that there were likely no survivors, so it was only a starting point for her to hopefully find people who could still be saved.

After a few minutes, the woman finally broke through the dense bushes and stepped into the clearing that was made around each data center to allow shuttles to land. But that's when she saw the carnage as well — the bodies of scientists and guards were scattered across the surrounding area, their bodies hardly damaged, save for a single hole created by what could only be a lightsaber.

"That's strange... no signs of battle."

To be safe, Valery took her weapon from her belt but kept the blades disengaged while she walked around the building to look for any clues that could help her. Luckily, it seemed the attacker had left one thing behind before departing the area; a ship. The model look fairly old but she was no expert and didn't recognize what it was.

Hmm...

With a deep sigh, Valery crouched down beside the body of a fallen guard and reached with her hand for his blaster. To learn more about whoever did this, and possibly gain an advantage over them should they meet, Valery decided to tap into the Force and allow Psychometry to offer her glimpses into the final moments of this man and those around him.

She could instantly feel his fear when the memories struck her and watched as guards were moving to position themselves against the dark figure who stepped out of the ship.

Darth Ptolemis appeared and in the next few images that flashed through her mind, she watched him freeze the guards and scientists in place, only to kill them one by one after. It was cold but very efficient, and none of these people had any way to resist such techniques. Another deep sigh followed as her mind jumped back to the present, and with a frown, she turned back towards his ship. To think about what it must have been like for these people in their last moments... it was horrible, but Valery knew what happened now, and she understood at least one of the techniques this Sith was capable of using.

Now, she was going to take a look inside his ship — perhaps it offered more answers or information about where he'd be striking next. If it did, she was going to be there to intercept him.

 

[Liedran Kathause]

Orn'om , Constantine Oliva , Tren Chaar , Marlon Sularen , and any other fleeters​

---

[Copero]
[3rd Expeditionary Carrier Line]

Miniscule dots on the forward viewscreen, the shapes of distant fighters peppered the backdrop of the Mawite fleet. By the second, they drew closer, accelerating, carrying stunning blue auras of their ion streams as the craft danced between fire.

The slight rumbles of spinning flywheels were felt crawling between the flagship's bulkheads, punctuated by gradual thwaps for every moment a plasma-coated slug left the vessel's guns. From within the cloud of another line, Cadence let salvo after salvo of turbolaser and ion cannon fire rip into the void, targeting computers locked firmly on the Final Dawn's leading star destroyer.

"Line open with a Rear Admiral Olivia. Ma'am." Captain D'Nea locked appraising eyes with the commodore, waiting for a final statement of confirmation. Liedran met the inquiry with only a quick nod, shifting her eyes a few feet to a holo-emitter on the rim of the command and control table. Jolting up from the unit was the rigid profile of the flag officer on the other end.

“Commodore! I want to engage every enemy target simultaneously. Hit the second defensive platform and neutralize it. Oliva out.”

"Roger that, sir." Liedran had already pivoted to face the scanner display, tracking from the clusters of friendly contacts to the port-most of two huge signatures. Golans... Corellian designs. It seemed the Brotherhood had corrupted them too. "Re-aim the ion cannons. I want a line-wide barrage concentrated on the second Golan. Fire when ready. Cadence Wing 3, and Prelude and Muse Wings are to converge on the target. Stand by for a bombing run once we've lowered its shields. Have the rest of the wings move to intercept the approaching Brotherhood squadrons. Overture and Sonata alongside."

The sounds of flight leaders clarifying their new orders with handlers could be heard from the starboard wing of the CIC, tiny bursts of static emanating from communicators, succeeded by short clicks when lines were cut.

Crawling across the expanse of the viewers were clusters of the fighters' signatures, the interception wings and bombing wings splitting paths from their rounding point off the Cadence's starboard flank. The interceptors lunged to engage their Brotherhood counterparts, holding tight to the aft-flanks of the Overture and Sonata. For the Mawite fighters to engage, they'd be forced to contend with the frigates' unending screen of plasma pulse rounds.

Kilometers behind, the Cadence and the rest of the 3rd Expeditionary's rear guard finally turned their guns to converge on the port Golan. After a long delay spent readjusting individual firing solutions, the ion cannons and turbolaser batteries were unloaded all at once-- a single, powerful punch to overwhelm the shielding capacitors of their target. Huge rumbles were felt throughout, bulkheads being battered by the initial shock of the salvo.

Liedran jostled back and forth, grip tensing to tug her back toward the sit-maps. In wake of the first lurch, her eyes pressed shut. Both out of worry and disorientation. After the second and third salvos, she began to readjust to the familiar pattern, falling once again into the guns' rhythm. Clang. Whine. Shout. Ring. Clang- The idea the sounds of warfare had become to integral to her life was jarring at best, terrifying at worst. Had she forgotten what peace sounded like? In years of work on the very frontier of Alliance space, she hadn't heard a bird's chirp, hadn't felt the breeze of a calm day. Screaming crewmen had become her chirping wildlife, instead. Calm breezes, to her, were feelings of turbulence jostling a cavernous room from side to side.

One such calm breeze washed across the CIC, bulkheads shuddering and shield capacitors screeching as a frigate turned to flame just off the Cadence's starboard bow.

The first casualty of the battle.

---

Ships and Statuses:

ANV Cadence	Shields: 97.6%	Hull Integrity: FULL
ANV Rhapsody	Shields: FULL	Hull Integrity: FULL
ANV Chorale	Shields: FULL	Hull Integrity: FULL
ANV Overture	Shields: FULL	Hull Integrity: FULL
ANV Sonata	Shields: FULL	Hull Integrity: FULL
ANV Ranger	Shields: FULL	Hull Integrity: FULL
ANV Dauntless	Shields: FULL	Hull Integrity: FULL
ANV Prelude	Shields: FULL	Hull Integrity: FULL
ANV Muse	Shields: FULL	Hull Integrity: FULL

 

[Dodhorn Harert]

Dodhorn Harert, the Hellwolf of Mandalore
Alor of 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 | Darth Ptolemis | Open

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

Spoiler: tl;dr | translation

• Speaking.
• ad'ika - child
• euk pe'ninr - little puppy

When she was out from the sarcophagus finally, she put her left hand on her hip and tilted her head slightly, looking at Kralmus as the man was visibly amused by what she was saying. Dodhorn definitely had the feeling that the man didn’t have enough intelligence to be able to assess the danger. The other option was that he didn’t care. It turned in the woman's mind for a few moments to have to kill the man, though that would definitely make her situation more difficult. So she still had to keep him alive.

It will be a long day…

"I can't complain, I missed it already!" she said with some mocking emphasis.

Through the Force, she felt when the man's mood had changed. When she said her last rank. She didn't know what the reaction was, she just felt like the other one wasn't so amused anymore. But she didn't feel this was more specific. Dodhorn couldn't know if the man thought she was a danger or just some valuable trophy. The only thing the woman could think of was whether she wanted her old position. As a Mandalorian, that would have been the first thought. But this wasn't her age, so she wasn't sure.

No; she thought, the man still knew nothing. Then really a lot of time passed, or she was followed on the throne by some talented amateur who was unable to keep Clan Harert alive. Dodhorn knew there were signs that her clan was not tolerated by others. They probably did everything they could to erase and delete her reign from history, or her conquests, and her clan. The Hellwolf grimaced for a moment and her eyes flashed again. Yes, the man kicked her ego badly.

"Then, if you have spent nearly one hundred and eighty years as Alor and one hundred and seventy years as Mand’alor… and you are still alive… ad'ika! Then and only then, maybe you can compare yourself to me. I think my year's numbers are more than the number of battles you have seen. Not to mention my victories… and the last battle. If I had lost, I would be already dead, and I wouldn't talk to you, euk pe'ninr!." she told him. There was very little offended tone in her voice.

There was very little hope ignited in the Hellwolf based on the man's reactions. Kralmus reminded her of her own clan. There were no such people before them, everyone was pedantic, perfect, ideal. Under Dodhorn’s leadership, the Clan Harert very much violated and broke all of the traditions.

"I did." now she shrugged.

After that, the unknown, mysterious figure arrived. Dodhorn hadn't lowered her hand yet, the red lightnings were still dancing around her fingers. The Hellwolf heard the deep robust voice in her mind. She stepped closer, right next to Kralmus. She was not afraid of the Mandalorian, but she still treated the incoming Darth Ptolemis as an enemy.

"New Sith Order? There was an old one?" she asked mockingly. "You say you are not an enemy… back in my time every Sith was an enemy to one another and did not condense into an Order. Now you are either lying or the Sith has degenerated and warped."

She tilted her head and looked up at Kralmus, who was about fifteen centimetres taller than her and a little more, if she counts his armour too.

"He is telling the truth, there is the New Sith Order who are on the side of the Mandalorians?" she asked him.

~ I am Dodhorn Harert, Alor of the Clan Harert, the Hellwolf of Mandalore; and former Mandalore the Ruthless… ~ she introduced herself again.

She placed her hand gently on Kralmus's shoulder to draw the man's attention.

"He seems a lot smarter than you. If he lies… he will be perfect for me to receive information. You can eat him afterwards." she breathed; it was a telling, suggestive promise.

 

[Silas Westgard]

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

The tunnels were like a maze, filled to the brim with creatures they simply did not understand. More came his way as he pressed forward, this time only stragglers who has possibly gotten lost from a bigger pack from before. Even through so much action, Silas was still more determined than ever to take down this lab once and for all. Their lives would not be in vain, and wherever they were now they were surely guiding him on the right path.

Striking down another abomination with a straight slash across the chest he slowly walked over it, his breath deep from all the fighting he had done. Nonetheless, that wasn't going to keep him down by any means. Turning around a corner with his saber gripped tightly in hand something new met his vision. A door, entering into a totally different area was wide open, almost as if it was taunting him to enter. Cautiously, he approached the entrance and leaned to the left, peeking in to see what exactly was inside.

Before him was a collection of scientific equipment far beyond his understanding, and machines that seemed to be working non stop in searching for a solution to their goal. Although, the most frightening thing out of everything was the test subjects or so called atrocities the brutes were using against them. Silas couldn't help but stare in shock as he bravely walked in by himself, glaring at the various bodies in tanks and what they were being exposed to.

Were these things even alive? if they were, these creatures were surely living in pure agony from what they were being put through. The only way their suffering would end was to put them out of their misery, it was the most he and the Jedi could do for them now. Their experiments were inhumane, twisted and demented, something of which only a true psychopath could formulate. Whoever was the mastermind behind all this needed to be dealt with, else another laboratory would surely be set up in the darkest depths of the galaxy once more.

Finally dragging his stare from the subjects he jogged through the ghostly laboratory in search of anyone inside. It was a possibility there was someone still here, and if anyone knew how to destroy this place it would be them.

"Focus Silas... don't let them distract you."

 

[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|43] FDS Persecutor [100|06]
Shipyard Defenses Golan Fighter Platform #1 [100|53] Golan Fighter Platform #2 [100|54]
Fighter Compliment TIE/fd Fighter | 24 Squadrons | 255/288 TIE/fd Interceptor | 11 Squadrons | 73/88

The Enemy Onslaught was ruthless and without mercy. The Enemy Fleet had split up in numerous groups targeting both Tyrant-Class Star Destroyers and the Golan Fighter Platforms to quickly overwhelm the Final Dawn's Defenses. The Copero Defense Force was clearly outnumbered and outgunned, but still the crews of the Star Destroyers and the Fighter Platforms still put up a fight against their foes, unwilling to give the Galactic Alliance an easy victory against them. Soon, the Galactic Alliance would get a taste of their resolve as a Frigate from the 3rd Expeditionary Line soon succumbed to the superior concentrated firepower of the FDS Intimidator, a testament to the sheer determination of the Final Dawn and their dedication to the defense of the Shipyard despite the odds. While at a clear advantage, the Galactic Alliance would soon find it hard to overwhelm the Defense Fleets of the Final Dawn.

As the Battle continued, Captains of the Intimidator and the Persecutor would soon proceed to utilize a new tactic against the Galactic Alliance as the Shields of their Destroyers continued to suffer from the relentless punishment of their foes. Unless they did something drastic, their shields could be down and their ships overwhelmed before reinforcements could even arrive, and something drastic was exactly what they did. As the enemy pressed forward with their attack, the FDS Intimidator and FDS Persecutor soon activated a weapon which had been rarely utilized throughout the Final Dawn's Armada to this point, their Shield-disrupting Projectors. Largely effective at close range, and when concentrated against a singular vessel rather then multiple vessels (At long range or when utilized it against multiple vessels, the SDPs will be less effective), the SDPs as they were called, had the ability to significantly weaken the shields or outright nullify the shields of the targeted warship(s) although they were more effective against ships of similar size or smaller.

Fortunately for both Star Destroyers only the Chiss had been smart enough to bring larger warships then the Defending Tyrants and thus rendering the rest of the Alliance Fleet vulnerable to the retaliation of the Tyrants. Thus, the Star Destroyers made their move, focusing their SDPs on the ANV Rhapsody and the ANV Warspite before unleashing deadly alpha strike attacks with their heavy ordinance. Their strategy was simple, use the SDP on an Alliance Warship, unleash an alpha strike on the vulnerable ship, destroy the vulnerable ship, repeat. In the meantime, the Fighter Compliment of the Copero Defense Force had trouble dealing with their counterparts as Frigates deployed from the 3rd Expeditionary and Support Ships from the 11th Flotilla made it hard for the Final Dawn's TIE Squadrons to deal effective damage to the Galactic Alliance's own Starfighter Compliments as they fell under heavy fire from the support ships whom they weren't capable of dealing significant damage against.

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Spoiler: TL;DR

• Both Tyrants-Class Star Destroyers and Golan Fighter Platforms take severe damage to their shielding with the first layer of the FDS Persecutor's Shielding almost depleted
• The FDS Intimidator and FDS Persecutor activate their Shield Disrupting Projectors targeting the ANV Rhapsody and ANV Warspite with them before unleashing alpha strikes upon both warships respectively.
• The Starfighter Compliment of the Copero Defense Force begins to suffer heavy losses from the combined forces of the Support Ships and the Starfighter Compliment of the Galactic Alliance.
• The Copero Shipyard Point-Defense Batteries open fire upon the approaching A-Wings from Revenant Squadron while the Shipyard deploys it's reserve of Two TIE/fd Fighter Squadrons and One TIE/fd Interceptor Squadron. [Not mentioned in post. Don't ask me why]

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Tag | Orn'om | Liedran Kathause | Constantine Oliva | Tren Chaar | Olly Piblarian ​

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[Aleksandr Stirsea]

Location: Selvaris, Deep Jungle
Engaging: Mawdelorians, Kralmus Orr Dodhorn Harert (Come dance, won't you?)
Tags: Cale Gunderson

The green landscape of Selvaris was meant to be one of serene calm and knowledgeable retreat. Aleksandr’s requests to press the offensive on Corpero had quickly been rebuffed by his master in favor of providing security for the Galactic Alliance presence on the aforementioned planet. He remembered halfhearted mumblings about Master Noble being planetside, something about giving their due respects.

Excuses excuses excuses, Aleks had decided. Cale wanted to keep him as far from direct combat as he could for as long as possible. Only his gambit had turned to bite him square in the back.

As their freighter ship broke Selvaris’ orbit they received frantic reports of assault and confusion. Dead scientists, dead soldiers, and deadly savages roaming the dark corners of the treeline. Still, as Jedi they had a duty. Save lives, even if it meant putting your own at risk. Aleksandr would not allow this day to be another failure, no matter the cost.

As soon as boots hit solid ground he knew something was wrong. Communications were fried, or worse, broadcasting the hysterical cries of men and women in their last moments. He winced at every static-filled scream, felt the pull of pleading souls on his presence in the Force.

"Stay close to me, understand?"

“Any closer and I’ll get stuck to you.” For all the bravado in his voice, Aleks did not feel half so confident on the inside.

“I thought there was an outpost on this planet. Why do I only see green shit for miles?”

It wasn’t the foliage that unnerved him, it was the thoughts of what might hide beneath that did. His fears were not entirely unfounded. He sensed the change as soon as it occurred, the sudden hunger that declared its desire so brazenly. He felt the domineering intention that only one of them could muster. A Sith.

The dark wave that enveloped him, it was a feeling that he had only experienced once before. Standing before Darth Vulcanus, as a trembling boy of twelve.

But he was a boy no longer. His hand grasped the lightsaber at his side, and he let it fill him with resolve.

“There’s something out there. Something dark.”

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

JUNGLES OF SELVARIS
OBJECTIVE II

TAG: Kralmus Orr Dodhorn Harert Valery Noble Ishida Ashina Laoth

Equipment in bio.

NOW I'M READY, I'M READY NOW
​

"Ooooooookay then," Kralmus muttered.

"Uh, ok?" Kralmus replied aloud, still confused by what this mysterious presence wanted. "Can we help you?"

Still holding the burning branch with telekinesis, the Masked One slowly turned his head and answered the imposing warrior. – The same power drew us in... Kralmus Orr. – Oily echoes emphasized the revelation again and again. – I answered with my presence, just like you. – The dark scholar had access to more information than others could ever know.

Lord Ptolemis' body turned as he followed the ghostly lady, the bright flames floating equidistant to the three shadowy figures.

"New Sith Order? There was an old one?" she asked mockingly. "You say you are not an enemy… back in my time every Sith was an enemy to one another and did not condense into an Order. Now you are either lying or the Sith has degenerated and warped."

– Yes, there is one. You shall soon find out more. – A cold, emotionless response from beyond the golden mask, unfazed by the mockery. Verbal stabs aimed at a soul that no longer existed. – And I won't explain myself to you. – A fact and a statement that lingered in the air. Ptolemis cast upon the others the greatest insult in the end; he ignored them.

~ I am Dodhorn Harert, Alor of the Clan Harert, the Hellwolf of Mandalore; and former Mandalore the Ruthless… ~ she introduced herself again.

"He seems a lot smarter than you. If he lies… he will be perfect for me to receive information. You can eat him afterwards." she breathed; it was a telling, suggestive promise.

– Believe what you will, Hellwolf. – The waning fire above them slowly withered under the blanket of the tomb's darkness. – Find me if ––– his head suddenly pivoted to the side, despite a lack of obvious auditory or visible signs. In reality, he felt a sudden disturbance in the Force, coming from the direction of… his ship! He turned his head back toward the two Mandalorians with haste and interjected.

– Welcome to the future, Revenant Hellwolf. Find me if it is answers you seek. – Uncaring, but not incapable of respect. He transferred his gaze to the warrior. – Death's Hand. – A slight tilt of his head as farewell to the horned figure.

With that, he let his open hand drop by his side, and promptly turned his back on the others to take his leave and investigate the disturbance foreshadowed by the Force. The echoes of the fallen branch followed the Sith Lord as he made his way out.

​

 

[Cale Gunderson]

​

Location: Selvaris, Deep Jungle
Not Pals: Kralmus Orr | Dodhorn Harert , maybe?
Pals: Aleksandr Stirsea

Cale had brushed off the padawan's remark, if he'd taken issue with how close Cale was keeping him, he'd have been welcome to stay on the ship. He'd been clear from the start, his word was law once they touched down, no exceptions. Warzones had no introductory course, one either lived or died, and Cale would not suffer the latter. He reached out, and in the distance found what he sought.

Survivors to their north, afraid, wounded, but alive. Cale waved for Aleks to follow, wordlessly signaling that he had found their quarry. Silence was golden on the battlefield, even in places as alive as the jungle, and Cale had demanded Aleks maintain it unless it was absolutely necessary. But he felt it too.

He'd lived a long time as a slave to it, his own body not his to control as that same cold, creeping sensation coursed through his very being rather than simply touching it. It was power, corrosive, corrupting, and cold but power all the same. It radiated from somewhere in the jungle, somewhere far closer than he'd have liked. But Cale kept his composure.

"I know. Keep moving. Scientists won't be far, we'll snag them and go." He muttered just loud enough for Aleks to understand, before turning back to look the boy in the eyes, blue pools filled with intensity.

"And then we go." He repeated for emphasis, deadly serious. They'd survived Vulcanus once, years ago, and Cale had fought Sith Lords aplenty once upon a time. But a single encounter where they barely emerged alive, and the far-flung past had no bearing on the here and now. They'd do their job and go.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Copero: The Ebruchized (Objective B)​

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

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Tu'teggacha vents waste heat into the vents, trying to burn Starlin and Eliphas
• He is surprised to suddenly encounter Silas

As alarms wailed and security doors slammed shut, Tu'teggacha relied on more than just his network of security cameras to stay abreast of what was going on. He reached out to the Living Force, extending the cold, slippery tendril of his mind and scanning around for signs of life. Mostly he felt the familiar presence of his Ebruchized, their eternal anguish clouding the entire tunnel complex in the Dark Side energies of fear and pain. Just the way he liked it; it camouflaged his own presence, for one thing, and made his vile gifts easier to call upon. For another thing, it made the intruders' presence and location obvious.

The Jedi glowed like blazing beacons amid the endless dark...

... beacons Tu'teggacha intended to see swallowed.

The Jedi, of course, were carving their way through the twisted mutants without too much trouble. Although the Ebruchized were surprisingly resilient, there were few things in the galaxy that could hold up against a lightsaber, and rubbery Ebruchi flesh was not one of them. The smell of saber-scalded alien blubber was truly a horror to experience, though, which was a definite downside to using the Jedi's signature weapon against them. The clones' primary advantage, though, was numbers. Tu'teggacha had been working on this little project for years, and with only one in a hundred Ebruchized retaining its mind enough to be tactically useful...

... well, there had been a lot of gibbering failures abandoned here.

Still, the Taskmaster knew that the Jedi were not only mystically powerful, but also (usually) clever enough to efficiently dodge near-mindless opponents like his misbegotten spawn. He felt the presences of Lief and Starlin Rand stop moving, and the killing stopped with them; they must have found a way to dodge the rubbery hordes. Well, that wasn't ideal; Tu'teggacha needed more time to evacuate his successful creations, and he wouldn't get that time if the Jedi managed to dodge his improvised guardians. Hurrying over to the security console, he played back the feed of the Jedi infiltration...

... and watched as they ascended into the vent system.

The Ebruchi's facial tentacles twisted into his species's ghastly approximation of a smile, baring his ring of gnashing teeth. They were still flecked with bits of now-rotten meat, which he had devoured raw and wriggling; his breath could have killed a bantha. Activating the facility's intercom system, he called out to the Jedi. "So the noble Jedi have crawled into a little hidey-hole," he burble-sneered. "Well, I know just how to flush you out. Choose your death, light-botherers." Reaching out with a knobby hand, he struck one of the buttons on the environmental control console, laughing wetly to himself.

The vast subterranean cloning facility was powered by geothermal generators set deep into Copero's crust, the energy of the planet's mantle of churning magma sustaining all the equipment Tu'teggacha required for his experiments. It all resulted in tremendous heat, of course, the kind of heat that could not only blister and burn flesh but sear bones to ash. Working with such intense heat required emergency failsafes... failsafes he might as well use if the facility was about to fall anyway. So Tu'teggacha activated the emergency venting system, pumping all of that scalding air into the ventilation tunnel network.

The very tunnel network where the Jedi were taking refuge.

Now the self-righteous fools would have to choose between facing the hordes below and being baked alive. Chortling to himself, a disgusting sound akin to an Ithorian coughing water out of both throats, the Taskmaster turned away to see to his own preparations. In all the excitement, however, he'd failed to realize that a third Jedi was yet unaccounted for. As he turned, he caught sight of the young human walking through his lab - Silas Westgard , separated from the rest of his party. There was a long moment as Tu'teggacha started at this unexpected intruder, momentarily struck dumb at this interruption to his plans.

"You are not supposed to be here," he burbled. "Guards!"

 

[Lief]

As Starlin gave his response, Eliphas made sure to keep in motion behind him as they shimmied their way through the vents. The gardening metaphor was a little abstract, and having had no first hand experience with weeding or even plants in general beyond admiring them from afar he wasn't sure how to even really process it.​

​

"How do you know who are weeds, and who can be redeemed?" he asked, knowing that now probably wasn't the time for it but unable to stop himself all the same. With time maybe it would all become far simpler to understand, with time perhaps he'd figure it out for himself. Their duty was to the wider Galaxy, right? That's what the stories he'd been raised on always said.​

​

Thinking back to the abominations they'd left down below, he tried to picture what it would be like to have innumerable masses of them cutting through the Galaxy and its denizens...​

​

Okay, yeah. That'd be bad. And that's why they had to stop the experiments, right? Right.​

​

Didn't make it any easier, but at least there was a reason for it.​

​

Starlin slowed, and Eliphas halted behind him; in that time, a voice began to ring out through the tunnels, one which caused the boy to tense in response. Heat began to form, slowly at first but with a quickening rate, and the boy's breathing began to race. "Whatever's down below, we have to take our chances with" he said, alarm ringing within his tone, though given that his Master was ahead of him there wasn't anything Eliphas could do to actually hasten them along.​

​

Starlin Rand Silas Westgard Tu'teggacha ​

 

[Starlin Rand]

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

“That's just it, you don’t,” Starlin replied to Eli’s question. “You never know for certain. You just have to go with your gut. Trust in the Force. If you screw up—well, lesson learned…”

Was the tunnel heating up? And was that somebody talking?

“Ah, shit,” he muttered.

The good news was, they were closer to the labs than they were to the hallway. The bad news was, somebody had figured out they were in the vents. Starlin had predicted something like this would happen, though he’d envisioned the vents getting pumped full of poisonous gas, and him having to provide an impromptu Breath Control lesson to his Padawan. Instead, it looked like today’s lesson was…

“Tutaminis,” Starlin said. “Energy absorption and/or redirection with the Force.”

His gaze focused on the panel up ahead that would take them either to the labs or somewhere close to the labs, Starlin stretched out his hands and absorbed the blooming heat. He pushed forward as he did so, reaching the gap and forcing it open. The panel hit the floor with a loud rattle of metal and startled shrieks. He dropped down into the midst of a crowd of Ebruchized—and promptly vaporized them with the pent-up heat he had absorbed from the vents.

He trusted Eli to follow him down, but if the kid lagged behind in the burning vents, he’d pull him out and make sure he was okay. Otherwise, he was headed for the door to the labs (very obviously labeled, though they’d misspelled it as “LABRATORY”) and cutting a hole in it with his lightsaber. He was going to have a strong word or two with these “scientists” in their “labratory”...