And then Darkness Fell (Serock/Invited)

[Salem Norongachi]

The sky fell. Metal shards half the size of a city blotting out the sun. The Lord Commander had ran, ducking and fighting his way through the ranks of the Omega Protectorate even as his own fleet began to lay waste to the City. The orders, predetermined before the battle ever began, were his last resorts. Salem Norongachi and Kal Strife were practical men, they had orchestrated the destruction of Nedjiv in another life time, because it was necessary . Sometimes, in the darkness of his long sleepless nights, he remembered that necessity and cursed his own mind for considering it.

Omega Protectorate was coming, they would keep coming, the whole Galaxy was behind them. One man had set the events of Druckenwell in motion but the Lord Commander was a practical man. Practical to the point where he'd raze a whole planet to show them the very extents of his determination. He just never imagined his contingency plans would ever see the light of day.

For days he had lain in a hospital, bones broken, skin and muscle lacerated from the building that had near crushed him to death. It was will power, nothing short of sheer grit and the aid of his student that had gotten him to the LZ. All the while he felt it; every death, every cry of pain from all sides, he let it strip him to the core and held it there. Even as it threatened to crush his mind he would not look away, he would not hide from the consequences of his actions. Those deaths, just as those of Nedjiv, would walk with him into the dark future he and Kal Strife had set in motion.

Those wounds would never heal, they would be open and fester until he closed his eyes for the final time. His physical ones were just as raw, they had been tended to and dressed, stitched and glued but he should have remained in the hospital for at least a month. A limp and the occasional wince were the only signs that something was amiss as he moved through the capital building upon Bothawui, the pain focused him, and his iron will kept the extent of it from showing.

The events of Druckenwell had circulated quickly, some had seen it in real time, others had caught the constant holo-news reports that played even now. The monsters were out of the bag, the time for the Confederacy of Independent Systems to shed its affable skin and become what it should have been under Verd. It would be the government that got the job done, no matter the cost, for the greater good of its people.

Even now, as he walked the hallways toward the press room, he could hear the protesters bellow, they were thousands strong, held back by local police, military and Obsidian Knights. So far only a few isolated acts of violence had been committed across their worlds but this powder keg was ready to explode. They had to defuse it, defuse it quickly and wipe away the doubt in the common mans mind. They needed someone to blame, someone to hate, and the reports from Druckenwell had given him someone.

The small door that lead to the back of the raised stage, where he would deliver a statement to the gathered press there. He was greeted by a mob of bodies, holo-cameras buzzed over head and a small podium awaited him. He limped across to it and let his tired eyes take in the blood hounds that wanted answers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the press," He began. "I am Lord Commander Salem Norongachi, interim leader of the Confederacy Government. I am here to deliver a statement in regards to the tragedy of Druckenwell, after which I will be open to some questions." He picked up a piece of flimsiplast from the podium and then set it on a small stand so he could see it.

"There are no words I can say that will quiet the sadness in anger in each of your hearts. The destruction of the orbital shipyard ring and the firing upon the planet were acts of madmen. Monsters and lunatics that sought nothing more than to cause strife and the very destruction of our fellow citizens. I am here today to assure you that the CIS government, its military and navy gave no such orders." He could see the speculation, he could see the looks of disbelief. If they had simply denounced him as a liar, it wouldn't have been as scathing as those looks.

"Reports from Druckenwell, logs of communications made by our forces all point to a singular culprit and his accomplices." He picked up a small remote and hit a button, speakers at the side of the stage let out a low hiss of static and then...

"-My fleet is currently positioned to take out the shipyards which orbit the planet. Retreat from my lands and I won’t rain fire upon the remaining innocent population and your own troops. Stay? and I won’t be able to stop my slipping hand. You have thirty minutes to retreat, give me reason to believe you are trying to stop me and I will scorch the planet ahead of schedule. Hoath out."

Another press of a button let a holo-projector show the slowly rotating shoulders and head of [member="Serock Hoath"]. "This is Grand Marshal Serock Hoath, as of this moment he is stripped of his rank, his title and is accused of war crimes. As we speak Obsidian Knights are moving to detain him.."

 

[Hira Mitsae]

“I am growing old Briggs, can feel it in my joints. Wary of all the fighting, backstabbing and cold-blooded murder. Had you encountered me a hundred years ago, I would have ripped your head off . Not for slaughtering all those innocents, no for ignoring my order. Doesn’t matter anymore though, what’s done is done. You are going away for a long time. Take ‘im.”

And just like that Briggs had been stripped from his rank and thrown into jail, a full confession had been recorded and several copies had been sent off to remote safe locations.

In the mean time the Grand Marshal sat behind his desk, his face set into a permanent scowl as he was wondering how this atrocity could be mended. Answer was simple, it couldn’t. They had just slaughtered billions of innocent people, and there ain’t no PR department on Earth and beyond which can fix that.

His hand gently rested upon the revolver, the one from Tatooine. For a while Hoath’s thoughts went back to the past, to an.. easier time. Bloodier too, and more fire. But easier.

A knock stirred him right back though, his scowl deepened as cold eyes studied the door.

“Enter.”

Which a bunch of Knights Obsidian did. Hoath didn’t say anything, just waited for ‘em to start. Thought if this was what he thought it was.. his timetable just got majorly screwed.

“Serock Hoath you are formerly under arrest. You have been stripped of your titles and ranks, remove your hand from the revolver and come with us peacefully. Otherwise there will be a world of hurt for you.”

The former Grand Marshal tilted his head softly, looking at the squad of six which thought it was a smart idea to waltz into a Stronghold of the Military and arrest one of their own outside their jurisdiction.

“There is a single flaw in your elaborate scheme, gentlemen.” Hoath said with just a thin line of contempt.

“And what is that?” another line of contempt, but this time from the haughty Master Obsidian Knight.

With a smile Hoath raised himself up from his seat, casually removing his hand from the revolver. The scowl had evaporated and in its place was genuine amusement.

“You assume the loyalty of my men stems from my rank. Boys, what do you say against that?”

With that the hallway outside of the Marshal’s office suddenly filled itself with army personnel, men which had been hired by Hoath personally. Loyal men, some from Exocron and kinsmen to him, others trusted soldiers which had fought side-by-side with the old Warlord.

“We stand with Grand Marshal Hoath.” There was a slight ring to the title, adding it was just another insult to injury.

The Obsidian Knights were slightly less confident of their chances now, but their Master continued to stand stalwart against the threat of the Caveman and his rocks. “Are you mad?! We are Norongachi’s Fist! You can’t handle us, not all of us!”

This elicited laughter from Hoath, mirth coming down from his belly. The damn room shaked almost while the Caveman had his fit. He even pinked away a single tear, which had formed itself in his eye. The only recorded instance of tears in like.. a hundred years.

“Boy, can you even.. feel the Force right now?”

Hoath didn’t wait for a reply, instead his hand grabbed hold of the revolver and aimed for the Master, who did not seem as haughty as he had before.

“Don’t be a fool, they will execute you for this!”

Serock just smiled, and pulled the trigger multiple times. Aiming at the legs of the Obsidian Knights. No use in killing ‘em, that would only make things worse.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

There were questions. Numerous questions that all followed the same lines; Why should we believe you? You were in command of the entire government, why shouldn't we blame you for this?

Norongachi gave his answers as best he could, the words of Hoath recorded over Druckenwell had sown the seed of doubt in them. Some of them WANTED to believe, others were old hats at political spin and the use of scapegoats to sweep situations such as this under the rug. In the end, he could only do one thing.

"I was on the ground when the shipyards fell," He took off his jacket, a black shirt lay under it. "I was on the ground when Hoarth made his declaration to the Omega Protectorate." Next came the shirt, a grunt of pain left his lips and the entire audience gasped at the sight, holo-camera lenses zoomed in. Salem Norongachi's body was a mess, cuts held by stitching crisscrossed nearly every inch of it that could be seen without the large bandages that went from his right shoulder, down his back and then across his whole torso. His arms as well held wounds of a similar degree, from elbow to wrist they were also in dressings. "I watched my men die.." He began ripping at the bandages, so fiercely that as they came off stitching burst and tore open some of his wounds, sending a cascade of crimson across his battered and blue skin. "I will forever remember my failure at Druckenwell, my failure as a leader not to see what was right under my nose..." A great wound ran from his hip, across his chest and up to the right side of his collarbone. On his left side, there were a lattice work of stitches that foretold of his ribs needing serious surgical work.

"I swear this to you, I swear it for every single soul that had its light snuffed out; I will bring those to to blame to justice, I will bring order back to the CIS, I will protect us from the forces that wish us harm. These wounds are my reminder, my penance, should I ever forget my failure I need only look down." He stumbled then, the pain growing too much for even Norongachi to take and an aide rushed to his side while another approached the podium.

"Thank you. That will be all, please, no more questions." The man said to the reporters.


* * *

The squad knew they were in trouble the minute that cold blanket of nothingness descended upon them. The squad leader, dressed in the black head to toe uniform of the Knights Obsidian, scowled behind his visor, all the while on the inside of his HUD a red dot flashed, with the words "transmitting" under it. They, he knew, were likely dead but as much as Serocks men were unwaveringly loyal to him, this squad and those of the Lord Commanders personal guard were just as fanatical to their leader.

They had a job to do and despite appearances it was not to take the former Grand Marshal in chains.

The shots hit the plating of his armour, two shots bounced wide but the third and forth found their mark. "Serock Hoath and his staff have gone renegade! Please send reinforcements!" The message sailed out through their coms system, into the relay station, then out to Norongachi, the remaining command structure of the army and finally to the media, which had been recieving a live stream of the arrest as it happened in real time.

Blood gushed from the Masters legs and his men forwent lightsabers in favour of their side arms, two grabbed their squad leader and began dragging him to safety while one fired shots at Hoath and the other, sent more down the corridor behind them before shouldering open the nearest doorway and piling through it.

Outside all forces scrambled, a little to quickly, if any one cared to notice. Forces from the Knights and Army moved toward the building, sniper teams would then take up positions in buildings across from it. Serock Hoath had made his own coffin and in his office in the Capital building, Salem Norongachi intended to hammer the nails in before the day was out....

 

[Hira Mitsae]

One of the bullets found its mark as it dug deep into Hoath’s shoulder, the man did not even blink at it though. This was one of the qualities that inspired unwavering and unquestionable loyalty from his man. Staunch and wayward Hoath scanned the area, and then barked a command. There was no time to be spared, men quickly gathered their gear and stood in attention within a few moments.

“Men, this is a dire situation. Norongachi is using Druckenwell to consolidate his power base, a kid can see that. But the populace is stupid and needs a vent for its self-righteous anger. As we speak they are going to clear out the surround area, and will strike down upon us with great vengeance and furious anger.”

While speaking he made sure the yslamari-cage was safely attached to his back, his revolver and blaster were holstered and ready to fire when necessary. AEL leather everywhere.

“Fighting now will be a waste of lives, Salem has the upper hand here now. You are my elite, my own damn rock. The Caveman’s Rock, and I am proud fighting by your side. But we have to do this smart, luckily.. I made sure of some.. back-up.”

Moment he said that, the earpiece started blipping like a mad man. It warmed his heart to see that some men hadn’t lost faith in their Marshal, they wouldn’t be able to do much. But that wasn’t necessary, but of misdirection here and there. Just giving Hoath and his men time enough to slip out when necessary.

“Enact Operation Rock Smash.”

All at once a couple of things happened, a military depot across town exploded into a fiery storm of Fire and Blood. An invisible UFO targeted the sniper teams and incoming reinforcements shooting once the target was acquired. Civilian casualties should be minimal, but who knew these days.

This would punch through a hole in the coffin, and allow Hoath and his men a chance to slip away. While the explosions around town would siphon off valuable personnel from the Army and the Obsidian Knights, at least if Norongachi wished to keep his reputation of goody do-gooder.

APCs stood at ready, and Hoath and his men would head out. In the direction of a stand-by point where shuttles be able to carry ‘em off. At least, if they weren’t intercepted first.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The capital of the CIS became noise and flame, the munitions and fueling depot was on the edge of the city but the great fireball that rose from it filled the northern sky and spewed forth black noxious smoke into the heavens. From no where a ship, one that any military personnel would recognize as a Scion-Class Corvette, shimmered into view and laid waste to their converging ground forces. Its guns stopped half the number, leaving a sizable gap in the net, before it shimmered from view again.

Norongachi's eyes were as hard as steel, the reports were coming in, orders were issued. The fire at the depot could not be ignored, city emergency forces were dispatched, military units were sent to assist and move civilians back from what threatened to be a raging inferno. AA gun emplacements came online, constantly scanning, waiting for the corvette to show itself once again.

"I want him caught! That man cannot escape justice!" Salem barked into a com.

* * *

"This is Gail Storma of the Bothawui News Network," The reporter stood outside the cordon for the blaze that roared into the skies of Bothawui. "Leaked reports have come in that the former Grand Marshal, implicated in the Druckenwell Disaster, has resisted arrest. He and his men opened fire upon CIS soldiers attempting to apprehend him and moments ago, this military depot was the apparent target of a terrorist attack. Emergency services and military personnel are battling the blaze as we speak-"


"-No one knows where the helmet feed from the soldiers originated from, but the message is clear; Serock Hoath does not intend to stand trial for the accusations of Druckenwell-"

"-Many speculate that the former Grand Marshal has used his considerable influence within the army and navy to engineer these events-"

Salem continued to flick through the news channels, each one reporting from within the city, each one targeting Hoath and the mans actions only validating the falsehoods he had spun a short while ago. It wasn't a perfect execution by any standards but...it would suffice.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

The Scion-class corvette would not reveal itself anymore, it had one shot during this mission to exact as much damage as possible. With punching a hole through the net this was more than accomplished. Armored vehicles bullrushed the free space, attracting gunfire and a lot of it.

But it seemed Operation Rock Smash had not yet been finished, as the APCs crushed through the resistance, the Headquarters of the Army went boom. Which was followed by several lesser explosions throughout the compound. This action had a number of reasoning behind it.

Destroying important archives, intel and other facts which were only known to the Grand Marshal. Think secret missions, sleeper agents, black ops all that stuff had been headed by him, the Marshal. With the reorganization, this branch of the military would have its own base. But most of the data had still been here, and now it was gone.

Unless.. one angry Caveman still had backups somewhere.

Other reason was simple, cause as much distress and chaos as possible. Then escape into the night.

Reach the Rendezvous point, and then try to get the hell out. The Scion would definitely help with that.

Serock was in one of the APCs, trying not to crash with his head against the walls as the vehicle shook in every direction. His shoulder was still bleeding, and now there was a beating thrumming sound in his ears, the blood pouring of him. One of the soldiers sitting next to him noticed it, and immediately started ordering people around.

“Sir, you are heavily bleeding. We need to perform first aid.”

“I am fine, son. Just a flesh wound.”

“Sir, there isn’t an exit wound. The damn bullet is still in there, crunching against your bone every time you move. You should be lying on the floor, screaming your lungs out.”

“Cavemen only scream when killing, son. It’s nothing, I have had worse.”

“Sir, I must insist. If this isn’t treated, you might lose your whole arm.”

Serock just sighed, and nodded. The men got to work, while they tried to escape.

 

[Neskar A'toll]

I'm too old for this kark, is what he would've said if he was, indeed, too old for this kark. But he wasn't, yet, he was still rather springy at the age of twenty three. In fact, one could argue he was in his prime, and could be conquering a world or something like that. The holotape in his ForceMan ended rather abruptly, ridding him of the delightful tales of Anders Fett and the Bantha Hutts. Just when the good stuff was starting. I hate days like these. Neskar groaned as he pulled his body into a ready position, having slept in his armour and answered the call. Remove Serock Hoath from the equation. "Groovy." He grunted, and smirked a little, and locked the buy'ce helmet onto his armour, securing his vision. He gripped all of his weapons. Including one more. Hoath has commandeered an APC, bleeped the ForceMan. One more, being a rather potent thermal-seeking missile launcher that would wreck that bloody APC or whatever they wanted to call it. Automatic... Person... Controller. Aspiring... Poison... Cleanser. Despite the rumours plaguing his thoughts, he had a job to do.

Neskar didn't have to run. The jetpack did the moving for him. ...gottagofastgottagofastgottagofastgottagofastgottagofast... That reminded him of another Holotape, The Rather Fast Squirrel. It was a bit of a kids thing, but it was still humorous. He had caught up with the speeding APC convoy, and had even managed to overtake them and land prematurely in the crowded market area. Not that it was especially hard to track down the APCs, just follow the trail of death and general destruction. Neskar leant his body downwards, so that the jetpack hurled him to the top of a small building, it seemed a bar, he could smell it from up here. Then, as swiftly as he made that movement, he shifted his weight backwards, so he span back so his feet could land easily, and lowered the power gradually, softly smacking into the roof. "Ouch." Neskar uttered, as he pulled himself up, and revealed the missile launcher. "Easy does it. They're only gun-toting machine dealers of death." Flicking the sights up, he homed in on the rear APC in the procession, waiting for the affirmative beep and squeezing the trigger. A bellow of smoke erupted from the rear of the launcher, and a single rocket burst straight from the barrel, whipping through the air at a great speed. Curling through the air, it homed in on the rear APC, holding a special surprise for those who thought they could escape THAT easily.

[member="Serock Hoath"] [member="Salem Norongachi"]

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The collapse of the Army HQ sent billowing clouds of choking dust out into the city for several blocks around it. Thankfully the civillians in the area had been told to stay in doors and a wide cordon had been errected to stop commuters entering the area. The loss of life was non-existent in the capital but the structural damage was rapidly climbing.

The Grand Marshals escape vehicle was within the sights of an armed and armoured air-speeder, it zipped above the APC, its pilots trying to lock on while their quarry sped through the streets, taking corners on a hairpin.

"Echo-475, you are clear to fire." Hissed their com. The secondary pilot lined up the shot, the monitor in front of him painting the APC with a red box as the laser cannons found a lock. His hand shifted to the trigger...

* * *

There was silence in Salem Norongachi's office, he had reapplied his bandages and his clothes and sat with his chair facing the window that looked out over a city that threatened to spiral out of control. And yet, he didn't feel worried. Outwardly he was a masquerade of nerves, aides and flunkies came in every once in awhile with an update report and they had to see their their leader was concerned but he wasn't; plan three steps ahead they could see and a further seven they couldn't.

"Sir?" A voice called out quietly from the doorway as it was opened a touch, a young mans head and half his body poking through the gap. "Mr [member="Kal Strife"] is here." Norongachi nodded and then pulled himself up and onto his feet, a grimace of pain spreading across his face.

 

[Kal Strife]

Even as Salem nodded his consent and began to pull himself to his feet, Kal stepped past the Norongachi's aide, ignoring the startled objection that slipped from the man's lips as he did. Inside the office, he paused a moment, coldly evaluating his onetime rival with slate grey eyes, before shaking his head and striding across to the window. "You're a mess," he remarked offhandedly, pressing his palms against the sill and leaning forward so that he could watch the distant flashes of light that marked Serock's attempt to escape the noose. It didn't look like things were going well for him, but that was only to be expected; he'd been a fool to think he could escape from a fortress world with a handful of deluded soldiers and a scattering of parlour tricks.

Still, at least the chase - and the spin their tame holonet reporters were putting on events - were serving to cement the man's infamy even as it entertained the proles.

"How long do you give him?" he enquired softly, glancing back at Norongachi, "Long enough to get to the spaceport?" That seemed unlikely given how events were unfolding, yet perhaps [member="Salem Norongachi"] knew something that he hadn't deigned to share. Kal certainly hadn't shared all of the preparations he'd made for this performance. Like the spaceport. That would be interesting for all involved, if Serock proved to be a touch more resilient than the Corellian imagined.

 

[Salem Norongachi]

Salem let his cool gaze meet the Corellian's and then shook his head, a twitch of his finger locked the door behind [member="Kal Strife"] and then he slid open a drawer in his desk and retrieved a small device. It was a handy gadget, one he had employed many times before. A sound dampener, it created a small bubble with which no sound could be heard or recorded. He kept it in his palm, the range set to no more than half a dozen feet, it would cover the distance between himself and Strife but no further. A thumb activated it and then he eased himself onto the edge of the desk, careful of his movements lest his resealed injuries come undone again.

"For a former Corpie," He began, a grimace of pain momentarily passing across his lips as he settled onto the wooden edge. "You aren't the most cautious..." He let his eyes slip across the room, with so many electrical devices in his office and power cables running through the walls it was almost impossible to detect bugs or recording devices with their attuned senses. He wasn't one to take chances he didn't have to. "And yes, I am a mess. Thankfully, I managed to work it to our benefit. Who could say I had knowledge of the planetary bombardment when I, myself, was almost killed in it?"

 

[Kal Strife]

Arching an eyebrow, Strife allowed himself a wan smile. "And they would hear what, precisely?" he enquired, "The leader of the Confederacy and his advisor discussing whether a traitor to the Confederacy will be caught? It would be more surprising if we were not to say it, would you not think?"

Turning from the window, the Corellian strode across the room to stand before [member="Salem Norongachi"] and cast his gaze down at the device the other man held protectively in the palm of his hand. "A sound dampener?" he murmured, "And you don't think they will wonder why our conversation cut off so abruptly?" Alas, it was a necessary evil, for not a soul beyond these four walls could know of the words the two of them now spoke, and whilst Kal would have preferred to simply scramble the bugs with a subtle application of the Force he was content to allow the other man his moment.

A shame; it was always so very illuminating to see who started to panic after their bugs stopped transmitting.

Ah, but such thoughts were for another time, and Kal dismissed them after a moment in order to turn his attention to more pressing matters. "They would not be the first to declare you suicidal," he noted in response to Norongachi's final comments, a humourless chuckle accompanying the words, "Or to speculate that I'd be willing to kill a world for an accelerated promotion. Still, it was well you were able to make something of it. It should be simple enough to lay the play elsewhere, especially with this fool of a marshal indulging his taste for terrorism here." Of course, that would not be sufficient to allay suspicions entirely, but many were the wheels that had now been set in motions, and each served as a cog in a far greater machine; a machine that lay the blame for Druckenwell squarely at the feet of those who had dared cross them.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

There was one good thing about the jetpack, it made a hell of a noise during it’s transportation method. Adding to that was the fact that Hoath’s Fist was on the lookout for possible threats from any direction the sky wasn’t the limit here. So when the Mandalorian Bounty Hunter targeted the APC, Hoath was ready aiming down the sight of his Lazy Eye Heavy Blaster.

Moment the Mando downed the trigger, Hoath shot twice. Trajectory was miscalculated though, first shot missed it’s target entirely and Hoath couldn’t help but curse at that. Second target hit home, but later than he had expected. The shockwave of the blast forced him almost out of the window he was leaning in, his head hit the frame of the door and for a moment he was dizzy.

Eventually he regained some small part of his composure, and with some tech savvy mambojambo was able to patch himself through to the Bounty Hunter’s communication device.

“You would attack a fellow Mando’ad? Are you dar’manda then? Help me, they are using me as a scapegoat, I don’t believe you would attack a fellow brother. Cover my retreat and then backtrack to our location, please.”

As he spoke those words, the APC rocketed. Lasers were trying to hit the target, first shot hit a building; rocks and debris started to hail the armored transport. Second target glanced against the APC, and it almost span around. Only thanks to savvy driving, and the sheer strength of the armor made them save their lives.

Then they were gone, not gone gone of course. But the airspeeder would have trouble getting a lock-on, while the APCs concord was driving underneath a tunnel. Hoath hoped the fellow Mandalorian proved loyal to their heritage, and would dispatch the airspeeder.

Their direction subtly changed though, no longer where they headed for the Starport. A man doesn’t grow to be over two hundred years old as a Warlord, by being foolish. The Starport would be heavily fortified, ain’t the real destination. Just the one he wanted ‘em to think.

 

[Neskar A'toll]

Oh dear. The projectile smacked him right in the hip, and he felt his armour bend and contort under impact, but it stayed most intact. A deep, throbbing explosion of pain lifting him from his feet and down onto his back, and numbed his leg severely, to the point he almost couldn't feel it when it stood back up. He couldn't say it wasn't serious; it could've easily broken something or damaged muscles or nerves and all that biological stuff. But he smelt the acrid aroma of the aftermath of a missile impact, the rocket fuel filling the air and filtering through his helmet. Then, all of a sudden, his communications device inside his helmet came to life and began talking in an alien voice, one he had never heard before.

“You would attack a fellow Mando’ad? Are you dar’manda then? Help me, they are using me as a scapegoat, I don’t believe you would attack a fellow brother. Cover my retreat and then backtrack to our location, please.”

Neskar frowned, and wondered what kind of voodoo-magic-type stuff was used to hack into his communications device, but it probably wasn't anything major - just a quick slice into the radio-waves or something technophiles would sure know what. He rose his left hand to his helmet, pressing down a button so he could reply.

"Are you trying to appeal to my better side? Big mistake. I ain't got no better side, pal. And all my sides are gonna be covered in credits when I'm finished with this. Be easier to give yourself up, you know. But hey, I know that kark ain't on your plate, with you being a mando'ade and all that. Keep chill, baby, I'll be right after you. See you soon. Kisses."

A tap on his gauntlet started the jetpack again and rose him sharply into the air. Another tap delved into the city maintenance network and pulled up a map of the road system and laid it over his current GPS position. A third tap nestled his radio into the closed comms of the military units, to discover which exit Hoath would take, and as Neskar rose into the air above the tunnels. Where to... Oh, brother, where art thou?

[member="The Boulder"] [member="Salem Norongachi"]

 

[Salem Norongachi]

Tick-Tock.

Serock Hoath was running out of time. The net was closing fast and whatever the mad Grand Marshal had in place for his escape would soon become unfeasible unless he hurried and Salem Norongachi needed him to hurry. Capturing the man and executing him was all well and good for a brief moment of press coverage that would quickly fade from the mind of the public. Another Grand Marshal, gone rogue out there among their enemies waiting for the day he could return and finish the job his employers had tasked him with? Well, that was a fear that would never die. Norongachi would make sure of that.

So he watched from his window as his forces moved, as explosions rippled in the distance, and sent a silent message to Hoath. "Run you bastard, run and keep running. You're an unsung hero, the patriarch of whats to come. No one will ever sing your name, they'll curse you and hate you and never know that you were the savior of them all..." Every revolution needed a spark and Serock Hoath was it.

[member="The Boulder"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Grand Marshal Hoath had been a man of principle and let nobody tell you differently, leading the Armies of the Confederacy for many years he transformed it from a ragtag group of misfits into a bloody warmachine which supported the nation’s call for expansion for all the time he held his position. Calico had been a footnote in the history of the Confederacy, a man who held the seat warm for when the Big Boss finally returned from his extended vacation, and yet… during that vacation the Dreadguard General had done one thing that had saved Hoath right this day.

Every new leader, military or otherwise, prefers to have his authority be uncontested. It’s basic human and alien nature, it was no different for Calico, and once he gained his new seat he set out to consolidate his power. Yet… he found a troubling thing, he couldn’t seem to separate the men loyal to Hoath from the men who were simply loyal to the Nation.

It seemed the former Grand Marshal had made a point of inspiring loyalty without showing blatant favor to one officer or another, so the clone commander did the next best thing. He reversed the positions of authority to a degree, the men of high ranks were set back, demoted to simple sergeants and corporals. While the men of low ranks, who had been simply doing their job, suddenly found themselves in positions of authority.

An operation that had short-term success and long-term consequences.

Once Hoath found his way back into power he encountered this situation, but wasn’t sure how to fix it, the former Warlord was a firm believer that you yourself had to defend your position in the pecking order and yet nobody had seemingly complained.

So he had kept it on, delaying a more permanent solution for a later time, had he known that the Armies of the Confederacy would be tested in such a relatively short time… he might have acted sooner.

His indecision had saved him though.

Men of his own loyalty were spread across the Armies, who had put their trust into the bitter, intense and fierce Warlord.

Hoath had been part of the Confederacy for a long time, longer than Norongachi and from that longevity spawned an understanding of the structure and the men that were hosted by the armies. The day that Norongachi executed his plan, those same veterans and loyalists executed one of their own.

They would never be so stupid to show their dissent, but in every small way that was possible they made the capture of the former Warlord slash Grand Marshal that much harder. Intel was compromised, sightings of the Warlord were reported in places far from where he truly was, explosions rocked the foundations of Bothawui and on that very day… unknown to all but a fair few the Confederay was almost on the brink of a Civil War.

Hoath refused to do such a thing though,. he had never had much love for the Nation he served, it was not in his nature to love and care. Such feelings had long since been expunged, years ago when his wife and children had been brutally murdered. Yet he had the simple and straightforward value every Tyrant in history possessed, the will to Protect that what was His.

The Protectorate was not forgotten, a Civil War between the Reds and the Greens would have been disastrous for the effort against the Protectorate, Hoath knew this and he knew something else too. Norongachi would be good for the Confederacy, he would mold it into a war machine which could destroy the Protectorate. If only given the chance.

And as the telepathic message was sent to Hoath by the Force, he knew that it was in his hands to give such a chance.

With the APCs disappearing into the darkness of the Night and loaded onto transports Serock Hoath, former Grand Marshal of the People’s Armies, sent a message of his own to his betrayer and former compatriot.

‘You made an enemy today, Norongachi. Had you come to me with this plan I would have gladly helped you, I had never had much love for Verd and as a man of war… I can appreciate what you are doing. But the Warlord in me wants blood and I will not deny him this. I have lived for two hundred years and I will live for hundreds of years more if the Reaper wills it. I will leave you to your devices now, strengthen your armies and enforce your authority… crush the Protectorate. But never forget, my misguided friend, I am out there and one day, maybe not tomorrow, next week or in ten years… but one day I will return and once my dagger slips into the cavity between your sixth and seventh rib right into your heart… you will remember these words. Build Norongachi… build and sleep with one eye open, soon we will be reunited.’

Abruptly the Force Connection was severed between the two men and the Star Destroyer ‘the Broken Wodka Bottle’ and his companion, the Stealth Corvette which had aided Hoath in his escape slipped into the flow of the slipstream.

Bothawui’s sun set and one might wonder… was this an analogy to a possible decline of the Confederacy… or was this the first glimpse of a new and darker future?

[member="Salem Norongachi"]