Dominion Come And See | BotM Dominion of Seeratter

[The Mongrel]

And when he opened the seal, I heard the voice of the beast saying, "come and see"
​

The Second Great Hyperspace War rages on. Though the Galactic Alliance bought a reprieve at Jedha and Adrathorpe, avenging the blood of millions shed on Coruscant, none doubt the grim truth: the Brotherhood of the Maw will return to the Core Worlds, pursuing its dark crusade against all order and civilization. As the Mawites consume the last free worlds of the Chiss Ascendancy and spread their twisted influence across the western Unknown Regions, it is becoming increasingly obvious that they are gathering their strength for another massive strike against Alliance space - one that will shake the very galaxy with its ferocity.

It begins, as all great and terrible works do, from small things. A vast Brotherhood armada has descended on the isolated world of Seeratter, a nowhere planet not even listed on most astrogational charts. But the Maw has plans for this backwater, plans that could open a new front in the long war between fringe and core. Where resources and population may be lacking, simple position can give a place value... and Seeratter's position could make it the beginning of a thrust that will divide the Alliance from its newly-incorporated outer territories. Darkness falls on this corner of the galaxy, and all unbelievers should beware its coming.

Seeratter itself is a shadowed world of deep, dark oceans and cold, rocky coasts. Its scattered islands and rugged shores could provide the Maw with ample space for temples, slave camps, military bases, factories, and more... but they must beware of the huge and vicious local predators, the metal-eating Stonechewers. No matter what great wonders and horrors they build here, however, they will not be the first. A pirate queen's ancient treasure vault has resided here for nearly two thousand years, and now it is open, ripe for the taking. Both on the windswept surface and in space above, much will happen to shape this system's fate...

And the fate of all who have become entangled in the Brotherhood's dark designs.

Therefore whatever you have said in the dark shall be heard in the light

(PVE / PVP combat in space and aboard a space station)
​

The Final Dawn, a neo-Imperial subfaction of the Maw, recently annexed the mining colonies of Iol. Word of the harsh forced-labor policies they enacted there, forcing the local miners to churn out endless raw materials for new Mawite invasion fleets, caught the attention of the Galactic Alliance. An Alliance listening post was soon constructed in the nearby Seeratter system, keeping watch on these operations and ferrying important data on Brotherhood troop movements back to Coruscant. Unfortunately for the brave crew of this installation, their presence has been detected, and an overwhelming force is descending upon them. The Mawites hurry to butcher the Alliance garrison and destroy their gathered data before the infiltrators can manage to slip away and flee to friendly territory.

• Mawites, punish this trespass and annihilate these skulking spies.
• Heroes, help evacuate the post before it's too late for the crew.

An inheritance claimed too soon will not be blessed at the end

(PVE Treasure Hunt)​

Almost two thousand years ago, the pirate queen known as Kanata the Despoiler rose to become the galaxy's greatest underworld legend. Patroness of a smuggling network that touched every corner of known space and beyond, Maz Kanata grew so incredibly wealthy that she required a series of vaults across a dozen different planets to hold all her treasures. By the time of the Galactic Empire, most of these vaults still had not been opened... and many of them have not been breached almost nine centuries after that. But for one such vault, that changes today. Word has spread through the criminal underworld that a gang of Shorak treasure hunters finally located and opened the ancient vault... just as the Brotherhood armada came bearing down on the system. Bad timing indeed.

• Explore the twisting halls of the sprawling treasure vault built by Maz Kanata, and claim its riches for yourself!
• In addition to plentiful aurodium, jewels, and cultural treasures, Kanata collected and preserved many Force artifacts
• For every two posts overcoming a danger (automated traps, flooded passages, angry Stonechewers), earn yourself a treasure!
  • Need ideas about what kind of treasures you could find? Roll on this handy table for inspiration
• Mawites, claim the Force artifacts for our shamans and Sith, and the riches to fund our conquest.
• Everyone else, get rich quick, before the Mawite blockade makes escape impossible!

There shall come over the whole earth an intense darkness

(Whatever floats your boat!)​

Seeratter is the newest staging point for the Maw in its war against the Galactic Alliance, and there is much to be done! Assist Dyans Keto and the Krath cult in building their base, a staging point for their brutal crusade to reclaim Empress Teta. Join Final Dawn surveyors in locating useful materials in the system. Hunt the huge Stonechewers, or perhaps the strange and dangerous beasts of the planet's dark seas, to prove your prowess in the name of the Maw. Do whatever must be done in order to emerge victorious and wrapped in glory on this distant and isolated world... or escape it while you still can!

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Location: Seeratter, Vault's South Entrance
Tags: Open

Spoiler: TL;DR

• The Maw captures one entrance from the Shorak treasure hunters who opened it
  • Other entrances may exist, or people can slip past the Mawite forces
• A sub-space alarm goes off, revealing the vault's location and that it is open
• Tu'teggacha prepares to enter the vault

The last of the blasterfire died away, and the camp was theirs.

Taskmaster Tu'teggacha hobbled across the stony beach, wet pebbles crunching beneath his boots. The icy wind blowing in from the sea tugged at his dark robes, forcing him to hold his hood in place with one knobby green hand. The surf crashed again and again, breaking against the jagged rocks of the shore, spattering his clothes with icy water. This planet was grim and grey, all dark clouds and cold oceans. He rather enjoyed it, actually. He had spent too long in steaming jungles, icy tundras, or the sterile stillness of a starship's regulated environment. This was a good balance, and a good reflection of his own soul.

Shadowed. Stormy. Distant. Cold. Powerful.

It hadn't taken the Taskmaster's bodyguard force long to subdue the Shorak camp. The treasure hunters, hailing from one of the last free worlds in the Unknown Regions, had been seeking enough riches to get themselves and their families away from the Maw's campaign of relentless conquest. They had almost pulled it off, too. They had managed to do what no one had done in almost two thousand years: to locate the entrances to Maz Kanata's ancient vault, and to find a way to open the colossal impervium doors that sealed it shut. There had been wealth enough inside to save all of them, and many more besides.

Unfortunately for them, one of their number had been a traitor, a hidden cultist of the Maw. This agent, outwardly a Shorak patriot but inwardly a faithful servant of the Three Avatars, had reported to Tu'teggacha on the expedition's every move. It had been little more than a passing curiosity at first, a minor nuisance to keep track of... until they'd actually gone and done it, solving the riddle of the ancient entryway. Reaching the end of the beach, the Ebruchi stared up at the titanic doors built into the cliffside, feeling no small amount of awe. Truly the pirate queen had been powerful, her reach near-infinite, even without the Force.

But the Shorak treasure hunters had followed her clues all over the galaxy, collecting old accounts, tracing patterns and coordinates, comparing details of Kanata's storied life with the mechanisms of opening. And in the end they had figured out the answer to the riddle of the entrance, deciphered a code and input it into a terminal that would instantly vaporize anyone who got it wrong. They were the first people ever to figure it out... and they never even got to enjoy it. The cultist reported their success, and the Brotherhood swooped in, stealing their triumph and turning it to their own dark purposes.

The few Shorak who hadn't been killed in the initial shootout knelt in the gravel, their hands bound, their heads bowed. Some wept openly, overwhelmed at having come so fething close to fame, riches, and a road to safety. Now they would die as prisoners of the Maw, either gloriously if they would serve as slave-soldiers or pathetically in the labor pits of some captured world. A few of their number seemed to have fled into the vault, escaping ahead of the Mawite advance. That did not worry the Taskmaster. The place was no doubt full of traps, and if the treasure hunters set off a few, that would make it easier for him.

What did worry him was the sub-space alarm. There was one rigged to each of Kanata's vaults, designed to warn her the moment it was breached. And though Kanata herself was no doubt long dead, that signal could be intercepted... and tracked. Treasure hunters from across the galaxy who knew what to look for would soon back-trace that signal and rush for the vault, eager to plunder it before the Maw could clean it out. There was enough treasure in there to make many, many beings rich for life... but the Ebruchi did not want to share. He wanted to seize it all, especially the Force artifacts rumored to be inside.

"Prepare an expedition to enter," he ordered, rounding up a few of his most trusted servants. They had secured one entrance, but there might be others, and they might well have opened when the first one did. Tu'teggacha knew he must not delay. If other Mawites came to claim some of the treasure, so be it; it would strengthen the Brotherhood, so he would allow them to enter through this South entrance and brave the vault's dangers. But if anyone else tried to enter, he intended to ensure that this treasure complex became their eternal tomb. "We must ensure that no thieves steal from the Maw!"

The irony of the statement was lost on him.

 

[Kralmus Orr]

Location: Seeratter System, Listening Post Approach
Tags: Open

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Mawite dropships approach the Alliance listening post
• Alliance fighters try to slow down the Mawite attack
• Kralmus prepares to enter the listening post

​

At last, no more symbolic Mandalorian business; just a good old-fashioned slaughter.

Kralmus Orr had been dragging himself all over the galaxy on behalf of Death's Hand, serving the great Mand'alor the Unchained in order to bring about a great galactic crusade. He wanted his people to return to the old ways, the become once again the conquerors and ravagers they had been at the time of the ancient Mandalorian Wars. But the Mandalorians of today were stagnant and hidebound, taking refuge in codes of honor and traditional rituals and all the other things that really, really didn't matter. They got themselves all in a twist about special helmets and pretty words and rules of war while the rest of the galaxy ignored them and moved on.

Perhaps they were making some progress in changing that, with the hidden Death Watch now sworn to follow Mand'alor Kryze and a brutal strike against the Enclave's capital world unleashed... but so much of the process of getting there had been so terribly tedious. Kralmus simply couldn't bear to sit through one more meeting, slow interrogation, or gradual hunt across the galaxy in search of his cowardly kin. He needed to feel hot blood on his skin, flesh ripping beneath his pointed teeth, bone cracking and sinew splitting before the blows of his mighty axe. He needed to kill and to feast, and given his... proclivities, one inevitably led to the other.

So Kralmus had been positively ecstatic to learn about the Alliance listening post that had been spying on them from the Seeratter system. The last time he'd been out this way, during the riots on Iol, all he'd really gotten to do was rough up and terrorize a few cringing civilians... and as much fun as that had been, real combat against someone who could actually fight back was far more entertaining. The cannibal liked watching hope leave the eyes of professional soldiers as they realized that, despite their training and their guns and their patriotic cause, they were hopelessly outmatched. That despair gave their meat such a wonderful sour flavor.

The crimson-armored Mandalorian sat aboard one of the dropships dispatched to take the listening station, calmly sharpening his axe. It didn't really need sharpening, but he found the grating, discordant shrrrrrck sound extremely satisfying... and it amused him to watch that same sound make others cringe and wince. That was the thing about Kralmus, the thing that had always set him apart, even before a decade in Mandalore's ravaged wilds had turned him truly feral: he liked to see people in discomfort, in pain. It had always been true, even when he'd been a child, ripping the wings off insects just to watch them wriggle and squirm.

There had always been something broken in him, something other people shunned.

But his inner violence, his loathing for everyone and everything else, had made him a mighty warrior.

The listening post was a good-sized station, large enough to accommodate powerful espionage equipment and a substantial garrison, but still small enough to avoid easy detection from outside the system. The Alliance's SIS spooks were good at what they did; it had been mostly bad luck that this post had been discovered, not any foul-up on their part. But the end result would be the same - corridors piled high with the dead, the brutal, bloody reward for daring to spy on the Maw. As Kralmus watched out the viewport beside him, his helmeted face impassive, the station began launching starfighters. X-Wings boldly roared out to meet them.

They couldn't possibly match the Mawite armada that was closing in, of course. Behind the Brotherhood dropships was a substantial force of Final Dawn warships, ready to punish those who had peered in on their operations on Iol. But the pilots launched anyway, signing their own death warrants, in order to buy time for the agents inside - and the information they carried - to make their escape. It was brave, admirable, heroic. To Kralmus, it was stupid. He had only one life to live, a life in which he intended to grab the galaxy by the throat and shake free everything he wanted from it. He would burn bright and then burn out, leaving a bloody legend.

Self-sacrifice? That was the kind of thing governments encouraged in patriotic chumps.

The first flickers of laserfire lashed out across the emptiness of space, and the dropship rocked lightly as the shields held up under scattered impacts. Brotherhood fighters soon answered, engaging the pilots in a dance of death, and the troop transports took the opening. They raced for the station's hangar bays and bulkheads, ready to cut their way in as needed. Kralmus stood, gripping his axe tight with one hand while he held the overhead handle with the other. He was ready to charge, to be among the first to rush into this den of cowardly spies and spill their blood. And he would spill it not in the name of the Maw... but in his own name.

 

[Maris Fero]

Spoiler: tl;dr

+ Maris has a dream of something hidden on Seeratter.

+ She arrives, climbs a cliff and checks out the horrible view.

+ Starts to break in through and miserable entrance suitable only to contortionists and smaller creatures.

Before -

Location: Maris’ Sanctuary Ship, two days prior to Maw Assault.

Maris’ hidden sanctuary was more like a tomb or an abandoned stronghold than a space station. For the longest time, Maris had known herself to be the only living soul aboard the facility, but even when that was the case she had preferred to sleep confined and contorted within one of the admittedly roomier locker cupboards. Like a rodent nest or that of a hidden bird, she preferred the feeling of safety and security the dark space afforded her and usually slept more soundly in that regard than she ever did sleeping out on a bed or in an open bunk.

Far from any other sentient life, surrounded by droids that were programmed to obey or ignore her presence, her dreams were rarely troubled by the visions of others that intruded in the bustle of a populated city or a busy passenger ship. In fact, even the captive doctor, Franz Yenneba, who slept with the constant presence of nightmares since his abduction, never seemed to bother her while in this safe haven.

And yet, that night, one of those uncalled for and unexpectedly vivid dreams came to her mind;

A vision of a world long forgotten, a vision of a vast burning maw splitting the sky like the jaws of a god coming to swallow up the forgotten, uncared for backwater planet. The thundering sound like a drumbeat as her view seemed to swoop down through clouds to the surface, fire and smoke, violence and screaming. And there amongst it, the feeling of dripping avarice, greed and lust. She had felt the urge to take what wasn’t hers many times as a thief and ganger on Vorzyd, but she had long overcome a lust for credits, and wealth for its own sake was anathema to the Shrike.

She saw strangers, creatures and monsters and droids, all scrabbling in the earth as if digging for some hidden treasure. But the vision showed her another way. A forgotten way, impractical to most, but the disused ventilation processor could be as good as a doorway to a being as slight and flexible as the former cat burglar. Down her vision continued and louder the drum beat thundered as the light became dark and the path through the forgotten dungeon became vague and treacherous. In her mind's eye the Shrike found herself standing before a heavily sealed yet unmarked door, her bare hand on the cool metal she could feel each and every overwhelming, resounding impact beyond that sealed portal. She needed what was inside, she could feel it. Just as she could feel the hot breath of the monsters at her back.

But she too was a monster, in her own right. The door gave way and the sound fell to a low but steady beat, and wide-eyed, breathless, the dream of Maris stared at the green glow of the bacta tanks about the hidden chamber, and the seven identical bodies floating within. Her bodies. She knew now that the beat had been her heart - their hearts, but that didn’t stop the woman from waking up screaming.

In the light of day-cycle, she knew that no cloning pods awaited her on that planet in her dreams. Nightmares never told the whole truth, but sometimes they offered a fragment.

Seeratter, the world's name would be Seeratter.

Now -

Location: Seeratter, Vault Cliffside Entrance, Present Day
Tags:

Speed, stealth, uncanny evasion blessed by her almost innate ability to hide her passage with the force had all been tested on the path to the entrance the force vision dressed in a nightmare had offered her. She paused after scuttling effortlessly up the sheer face of the cliff with the aid of her Haunt climbing gear, had anyone been present to see her she might have resembled some strange dark insect.

The runaway dark apprentice risked a moment from this higher vantage to regard the scene around her, in all directions but one she saw rising plumes of smoke and even from this distance she could catch the faint sounds of terrible deeds being enacted in the distance. Bleak destruction had come to this place, as it must come to test all places. Maris felt little pity, but nor did she take pleasure in the sensation. This wasn’t her fight.

The ventilation processor access panel concreted into rocky cliffside was seemingly only a little wider than the breadth of the Shrikes slender shoulders, it would be an uncomfortable fit to make her way within, and who knew if the same way back out would even be possible. Only the force, she thought some jedi or sith might say.

With an effort, she tugged at the heavy metal casing about the access panel, but of course, the thing did not move an inch for the slight darksider, even calling upon the force the thing was sealed in place. She grunted from behind her anonymous mask, feeling the high winds on the exposed spot blowing through her raven black hair. It was with a grim sense of foreboding that she ignited the shoto lightsaber from her belt and started to use the crimson blade to cut the casing free. So much for leaving no traces.

 

[Thalia Senn]

​

Tempest sat crosslegged in the center of her spider cruiser's cargo bay. It was the only place large enough and secluded enough for her to meditate and practice her forms. The only sound afforded to her were those of the creaking hull and occasional beep from a panel or hidden circuit board. Before her on the floor sat the Jedi Padawan Iris Arani 's lightsaber, Domxite. Again and again, she had tried to activate the blade, troubleshooting wires and focusing lenses until she had encountered the padawan again on Asog. It was there where the Padawan had revealed, or rather, helped Tempest connect the dots.

Domxite was sentient, and not theoretically like Kyber. No, this was a living being. And living beings could be bent by the power of the Dark Side. She'd had her first taste of what that power could do on Asog, her connection to both the Dark Side and Darth Solipsis strengthening. The feeling of power hadn't left her, a reminder of his presence stuck to her like a salt leech. Her brown eyes fell on the blade with malice, a snarl twisting her lips.

"Today is the day," Tempest growled out, "You will be mine." She felt resistance as she probed the crystal, but probing was all she would do for now, until she found the smallest crack she could exploit. It was clear as she searched that the crystal deeply cared for the padawan. As her search continued her eyes fluttered closed, the ambient sounds of a starship slowly replaced by those of a ship at sea. The creak of treated wood and the plinking of cables against the mast replaced the groans of durasteel and the roar of the ocean waves replaced the hum of a power core. On the deck she was sat cross-legged, Domxite floating just out of reach of her outstretched hand. The words of her Master echoed through the wind and crashing waves.

 

[Marlon Sularen]

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W H I S P E R S_I N_T H E_V O I D

FINAL DAWN
SEERATTER , OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

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SHADOW HAND COMMAND - TASK FORCE VADER
Commanders : Grand Overseer Marlon Sularen [Overall Command] Vice-Admiral Brentris Conshou [Main Fleet] Baron Wilhelm Vonreg [Starfighter] General Tylo Bellock [Infantry Detachment]
Main Fleet FDS Predator [100|100] FDS Resurgence [100|100] FDS Torment [100|100] FDS Defiance [100|100] FDS Retribution [100|100] FDS Judgement [100|100]
Starfighter Compliment TIE/fd Fighters | 68 Squadrons | 816/816 TIE/fd Interceptors | 60 Squadrons | 480/480 TIE/fdh Hunters | 14 Squadrons | 56/56 Chariot-II Missile Boats | 8 Squadrons | 64/64
Infantry Detachment HAAVs | 5 Squadrons | 40/40 439th Legion Stormtroopers | 2,000/2,000

Since the Brotherhood of the Maw's Defeat at Jedha , the Final Dawn has suffered heavy losses in the form of subsequent engagements at Adrathorpe along with a costly Uprising at Epoch which saw the loss of a major Corporate Asset in the form of the Epoch Engineering Corporation which at this point most likely had been nationalized by the Alliance and broken up to be absorbed my Loyal Corporations such as the Trade Federation. In addition to that , the Brotherhood had to deal with a variety of internal issues such as the Vinesworn Rebellion by the Drengir and another Uprising at lol. While the Final Dawn has largely recovered from these stepbacks , the Alliance has yet to be punished for their actions at Adrathrope and Epoch not to mention that O'reen , the Capital of the Final Dawn was now vunaerable to Alliance Attack. But now it was time to remind them , that the Final Dawn still stood strong and that their resolve was stronger then ever. Their first target : Seeratter.

During the Chaos of the lol Uprising , an SIA Agent who had managed to acquire vital information of the Final Dawn's Operations on lol had managed to slip away from the grasp of Politorate Agents pursuing them and eventually made his way to the Alliance where he most likely reported his findings to Director IVI . As a result , the Alliance quickly moved forth to establish a listing post on Seeratter to keep track of Mawite Movements in the region and keep an eye on the Final Dawn's Operations on lol. This was intolerable for the Final Dawn especially for Grand Overseer Marlon Sularen who had grown infuriated with the recent mishaps at Adrathorpe , Epoch and lol. The Alliance had defeated the Final Dawn and had dared to support treacherous elements within their Sphere of Influence and now they had the audacity of establishing a listing outpost on a Planet only one jump point away from lol? This could not go unpunished and thus the Grand Overseer headed straight towards lol , in command of his Personal Task Force , Task Force Vader with only one goal in mind : To eliminate all Alliance interlopers at Seeratter and seize that station for the Final Dawn.

Thus the FDS Predator , Flagship of Marlon Sularen emerged from hyperspace having left lol a few minutes ago followed by the rest of Task Force Vader which included the recently retrofitted Phaetra-Class Light Battlecarrier known as the FDS Resurgence which once belonged to the New Imperial Armada. The 6 Vessels then began their approach towards the Listing Post as Mawite Dropships began to head towards the Station. "Grand Overseer. The Station has deployed 2 Squadrons of Alliance X-Wings to intercept friendly Dropships." an Officer said. Sularen smiled. "A bold move from their part but a stupid one. Deploy half a dozen Squadrons of TIE Fighters. Annihilate all who stand in our way. Seeratter will be ours , One way or another." the Grand Overseer said in a hostile and menacing tone. Soon enough , 72 TIE/fd Fighters emerged from the Hangar of the Predator and headed straight towards the Alliance X-Wings deployed by the Station to intercept the Mawite Dropships. The X-Wings would be outnumbered 3 to 1 and had little chance at surviving the onslaught of the Final Dawn. When the X-Wings attacked the Dropships , they would soon be met by Final Dawn TIEs as they moved in to engage with the sole intent of leaving no survivors.

As the First shots were fired , Sularen leaned forward in his Command Chair stroking his beard as he fixed his gaze at the battlefield in front of him. Seeratter would fall and the Listing Outpost would be his , but must importantly the Final Dawn would have direct access to the Lequabis system which was located along the Starbird Trade Spine and with access to a hyperspace route which led straight to Sularen's former throneworld of Byss. Everything was proceeding as Sularen had foresaw and soon he would be seating on his Throne at Sularenopolis once more.

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Spoiler: TL;DR

• Sularen's Task Force Vader arrives at the Seeratter System consisting of the Predator , 4 Pellaeon-IV Pocket Battlecarriers and a recently retrofitted Phaetra-Class Light Battlecarrier
• Noticing the Starfighter Squadrons deployed by the Alliance's Outpost , Sularen deploys 6 Squadrons of TIE/fd Fighters (72 in Total) to intercept

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Tags [Allies] | Kralmus Orr
Tags [Enemies] | OPEN​

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[Aeson Keel]

Marlon Sularen | Kralmus Orr

Whispers in the Dark

Listening Post Seeratter

Seeratter was a quiet, sleepy system. Despite the boom in industry throughout the Outer Rim over the last few decades, there were thousands of systems like this one, untouched by Galactic hands for hundreds if not thousands of years. The astronomical object below was rather unassuming. Initial scans indicated that it could potentially have life but with their goal being the monitoring of the edge of Maw controlled space, there had been zero attempts to scan the world itself.

Aeson had been snoozing when the claxons began to blare in every cabin across the station. An attack? How? Aeson growled and threw off his blanket. His boots strapped, his blaster powered, and his headset on, Aeson Keel, Callsign Wraith, entered the fray. The station wasn't fully staffed, most of the security personnel were droids. That didn't mean the hallways weren't a mess of activity as aides, technicians, and the like began to make their way to their stations. Stations? They were getting attacked! Their cover had been blown and they needed to get well and clear of this place.

The bridge, of the station, was buzzing too. Mostly in the literal sense as the sound of servos and mini power cells whirred, the station control droids doing everything they could to stall the inevitable. And it was inevitable. Five battlecruisers and the flagship of Marlon Sularen. Aeson winced as he thought of all the credits he'd get paid as a bonus if he could take that bastard down.

Already, the hologram of Admiral Mayson Asyr (no relation) hovered over the command table. His throats flared, the rumbling roar of Ithorian filling the room before a delayed translation came through.

<Ah, Captain Keel. It seems we've been had.> Aeson bowed in respect and saluted.

"Seems that way sir. SIA protocol strongly suggests we scuttle the station. Get as many folk out of here as possible." The Ithorian nodded gravely.

<Yes well,> He gestured at the fleet before them. For a moment the transmission flickered as the Admiral's vessel took a glancing blow from a turbolaser. Off in the distance, the bright light of a corvette going up in flames under the concentrated firepower of the battlecruisers lit up the darkness of space.

<Get to the Vigil. We'll hold them off until you can get everyone aboard. We've already sent word to Coruscant.> Aeson nodded before bringing up the abandon ship protocol.

"All hands, this is not a drill. Abandon ship. Evacuate to the Vigil docked at bys four, five, and six." The message was on repeat. Suddenly the power failed, cutting off the transmission. In an instant the alarm and warning were back online, but the halls were only lit by red emergency lighting. Someone had smartly shunted as much power as possible into the shields to give them a little more time. And they would need all the time they could get. The listening post had been anchored by a Starhawk and the Vigil. Two corvettes moved to collect and bounce info packets off of the edge of the system but other than that they were alone.

And the Maw was knocking on their door.

 

[TK-818]

DEVIL​

The Night Vulture roared once again. A lone vessel scorching the skies above Seeratter with reckless impunity. It would take the swiftest course to the unearthing efforts of the reputed vault where the powerful Tu'teggacha led the Mawite excavations with an iron fist. There were relics there, objects of power that could benefit the pilot’s liege and more importantly himself.

The Vulture's camouflage peeled away like an onion, revealing the darkened mass piercing the heavens. He knew not what the rest of the Warriors of Ren and their Crimson Hands attended to, this journey had been one he had undertaken on his own. Long had he walked in the glorious Shadow, now he would rise to cast his own. The Knight of Ren took the shuttle down, ready to face his destiny.

His hands let go of the cockpit steering and pilot controls, gliding through the air to his trusted halberd lain just at his feet. Rising to his feet he lifted the dreaded weapon up with his arisen form, armed, the Knight of Ren made his leave from the shuttle for the front of the dig party.

<“Mighty Tu'teggacha , I have come to aid your efforts.”>

 

[Dyans Keto]

Reclaiming the Tetan Empire​

Post: 1
Objective: You should me Crown
Tags: Open

Spoiler: Fleet

Praetorian-Class Star Destroyer (Desolation)
Praetorian-Class Star Destroyer (Devastation)
Praetorian-Class Star Destroyer (Desperation)
Praetorian-Class Star Destroyer (Decadence)
Crucifix-Class I Destroyer (Dancer)
Crucifix-Class I Destroyer (Dabbler)
Crucifix-Class I Destroyer (Deliverer)
X10 Samael Class Frigate
x10 Cr90 Corvettes
X71 Squadrons Nssis-class Clawcraft
x30 Squadrons of Support Craft
X30 Spider Cruiser fully load with Crusader troopers

​

From the Bridge of the Desolation those Emarald eyes stared at the dark world before them. As the other fleets engaged the Alliance listening post Dyan's fleet was here to settle down. It was time for the Krath and the Crusader army they hid behind settled down on a world. A world from which they could easily launch their crusade on the core and eventually retake Empress Teta. Seeratter Seemed like a good choice for that location it had some perfect atmospheric feel that drew the former Empress in. Through the dark waves of the of the force told her this was the place and that if they did not lay claim to it the final Dawn would. The Final Dawn which was becoming a thorn in the Kraths side it was growing arrogant in its claims of every world the Maw claimed.


"Your lander is prepared Empress." Dyans took in a breath of the recycled air of the star destroyer and nodded to the officer that had informed her. She set down the glass of blood wine on the armor of the throne that sat in the center of the command deck. She then picked up her sith sword and attached it to her belt. She then looked to one of her communications officers.


"Tell the rest of the fleet the coordinates and to launch their landers at site A." With that said the Empress turned and exited the bridge going for her lander. This would be a true testament of their faith, there were dangerous creatures on the surface called Stonechewers among other beasts. They would have to contend with the beast and begin the building and settlement process. Yet this world still called to Dyans something about it had Tetan Empire, Crusade, and Krath written all over it.


As she made her way to the lander one of her commanders met up with her. He looked to her a with a bit of worry in his eyes. It was written all over his face he was concerned about some thing major. "Speak." Dyans said her tone soft as she gave the man the freedom to speak freely.


"I feel the Final Dawn are trying to shut us out and that we will be betrayed both here and when we retake Empress Teta." She noted the deep concern and fear in the commander's voice. She too had those concerns, but she had mostly kept them to herself. In truth she didn't have a clear vision of what to do just yet to prevent this from happening. She also had no words of reassurance to give the man, though she had met members of the final dawn like Aldo Garrick , she hadn't met the full leadership. On top of that they were going on a verbal pact with a sith Lord, the sith were not to be trusted.


"Have Faith, there is a game being played here but I always have a trick up my sleeve." That was the best she could give her commander. After long walk they made it to the lander soldiers surrounding her she boarded the vessel and the took off for the Planet below.

 

[Thomas Barran]

1st post

Thomas Barran
"The Shriven One"

Objective 3: BYOO
Tags: The Mongrel
Open to interaction, Tommeh's hame!

THE LIVING ARTEFACT: THE MOONS OF RHIGAR - PROLOGUE

Defence Center, Claar Homestead,
Fort Roscu, Righar (Winter of 870 ABY)

Your friends will revere you for this, trust in your strength - and mine!​

The wolves were at their door, and had been for a while. But did the occupants at the time know? Not a chance. Not when the Shriven One himself was growing so accustomed to the shadows already.

Trust in that power, and your need of my presence will lessen. And your irises will retain that blue - that pretty Woad blue.

Not Even as his nose bled in recognition of what he was, what sort of human he had been in a previous life, but in a very - very particular way. The voice within was smart, almost too smart for her own good, choosing to cut him as deep as his soul and his body could handle in the process of forging the warrior she wanted the Shriven One to become - and more still was being planned in silence. The voice was keeping her own counsel as always, but certain exceptions still awaited his successful assault on the "Golden Bones", Homestead.

Funny time t'make me remember my race, voice. Keep it to yourself, I'm working here.​

The raiders inside had made a brazen point of taking ownership of their own little chunk of land, but had done so on Scar Hound territory, thinking the planet of little interest to the rising clan who mostly resided on Mar Zhambul instead. However, much had changed in Exegol's war on the Galaxy, much had changed the Mongrel's tribe of cybernetic zealots in the years since Thomas' rebirth, with all around their living artefact given further reason to believe in the Holy Trinity of War, Death and Rebirth with renewed vigor. And thus, it would've been utterly foolish to stake one's claim to a spot of land that was already being considered as Hallowed by the very tormentors who silently surrounded the old fortified Claar Homestead. This world was theirs, and theirs to reap as they so willed at the time, and the unaffiliated raiders within, brave as they were, would eventually learn before the end.

This world was to become a nasty, frozen grave for the souls of the unwelcome squatters, resigned to walk in their flayed forms across the snowy, windswept surface for all eternity. Even with the cold air around him freezing the blood that was trickling from his nose at the time, the latest addition to the tribe was in no mood for slouching, not while the fury of his soul burned bright with insatiable bloodlust.

'This world holds no Golden Bones but those we melt into the gold we find! This world is Scar Hound territory, this world belongs to the Mongrel! This World belongs to the Avatars of War, Death, and REBIRTH!!!!'

WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!! WAR - DEATH - REBIRTH!!!!
​

None had the right to stake their claim to Rhigar, none but representatives of the Scar Hounds, and the Shriven One's faith in the Three Voices would shine as a testament to this in the following hours, for the lonely wilderness outpost would fall before the third moon showed face for the night - and Thomas was hungry.

'Alright, brothers. All we need is something heavy-hitting, heavy enough that it blows that gate wide open for me!'

With a howl of delight, Rook jumped into action with his PLX-One, testing it's efficacy straight away in the hopes it would get some activity and and aggression worked up in the ranks of the Scar Hounds, knowing that getting them riled early would make for devastating first contact with the Golden Bones' first line of defence. The projectile that Rook had launched would hiss and scream on it's way towards it's terminal-velocity endpoint, causing some of the others to follow it's trajectory as they watched the situation unfold, and plenty more awaited the outcome by keeping an ear out for the crashing sound of durasteel being detonated into many multiple different directions, but in hearing the resonating, echoing metallic shunt instead, all present to bear witness or to hear would feel the difficulty of the task ahead as the ineffective detonation thudded deep across the approaching courtyard.

'Even if it didn't do anything to the gate itself, that hypervigilance is going to sap them of their strengths before long, Rook. A leaf straight from Dreamer's book, is it not?'

'That it is, Shriven. I just hope we can get in before the pneumonia gets 'im.', Rook replied, dumping his launcher on the ground and sitting on it for warmth as he looked to the Woad with a dejected demeanour easily seen in his posture as he spoke. It was a good reminder of what else they were fighting for as a result, for the survival of Rook and Thomas' friend was very much a high-priority, but in order to aid Dreamer's survival and eventual recovery, the Scar Hounds needed to breach and conquer the Homestead so they could make use of the appropriate medical facilities within. The brothers of the Mongrel's tribe were still confident they could prevail in time, but it's still had both the Shriven One and Rook worried, with the latter worried enough that he continued,'The man's been nothing but solid since he joined, we'd be dumb to let Dreamer go too soon. When that one dies, it'll be much more dignified than that he'd experience with an illness like that.', taking off his warmask-helmet to look his friend in the eye and for heavier effect.

'Point taken, but I need that door open so I can clear the way.... From there it's down t'you, mind?'

THE LIVING ARTEFACT: THE MOONS OF RHIGAR - PART ONE

Defence Center, Rebirth Homestead,
Fort Shriven, Rhigar (Winter of 870 ABY)

'Bring up that Goliath you told me about, Rook. You know, the one Dreamer salvaged together from Ilum. You know the one I'm talking about, right?'

Growling audibly through the warmask he'd since put back on, Rook rounded on Thomas to exclaim,'It barely even holds in current form, and we haven't even fired a single shot with it yet!', relenting long enough to consider the possibility of the Goliath tank being in good enough condition to fire on the gate. It was entirely possible, but it would need to be towed uphill to the right spot in order to be tested in that regard, and in that moment, Rook began to worry again, rounding on Thomas once more to growl,'We shouldn't even be playing around with 'is pet-project anyway, Dreamer would freak if he could hear us talking like this.... Fine, I'll say it was my idea. But you owe me, Shriven. You owe me big-time!', though far less intensely than before. Barran did have a slight gut-feeling that Rook was out of line for this, but understood that there might have been more to this outburst than was meeting the eye, and in this realisation, understood that despite it all, the outspoken Scar Hound was still quite correct to speak out on the matter.

'Noted, Rook. Now go an' show me what Goliath cannonry does under winter weather-conditions.... I'm in the mood for destruction, an' I want t'see it within the hour!'

Minutes would pass beyond that point, with Rook working with every available resource at his disposal, working to get the ramshackle husk of the tank it had been as close to the summit as possible; no matter which choice the Scar Hounds made, it wouldn't be easy by any means, but it didn't stop the Mawites from trying. And in the quickening winds and heavier snowfall, the dead Goliath husk was eventually hauled into effective shooting range, eventually grinding to a shunting stop as the treads kicked against a rock and almost overturned it, marking a tense end to the successful completion of their task in quick, fearful succession. Minutes later, Dreamer would be stirred from his near-comatose stupor to find that the turret's barrel was active, hot and thudding with life as it hurled it's magazine-payload across the courtyard; but instead of feeling wrathful over the whole affair, he would find relief in seeing that it had opened and widened a workable breach in it's steady succession of three-shot bursts.

Achieving it's goal in something more worthwhile than Dreamer's tinkering ever could be, and he knew it well enough not to complain over something that could be fixed with further-tinkering afterwards.

'It's open, Shriven! Show us what you can achieve without divine assistance! SHOW US THE TRUE MEANING OF REBIRTH!!!!'

Drawing the same sword he was given just months before, the same sword Mr. Barran had reached out for instinctively in the moment he regained consciousness, (groggily grasping at the leather of the sword-belt in a cold sweat as the Mawite Healers tended to him on Mar Zhambul) Thomas sighed with delight as he gazed on the Durasteel form with a contrasting disdain. The Shriven One would silently promise himself he'd create something better, drawn to the warmth of the forge in both dreams and waking intent alike, and hoping beyond all reason that he could create something worthy for his brethren, and his warlord as a result. Chanting battlecries of,"WAR, DEATH, REBIRTH!!!!", would reverberate off the buildings, walls and mountains all around him, inducing rushes that made every last one of Barran's hairs stand up on end in the process.

'FOR DREAMER!!!!'

Then, amongst the riot of noise, the Shriven One sprang forth at a sprint, careening towards the breach under a responding hail of blaster and disruptor trails that thudded into the snowy ground around him, and not a single one of them would find it's mark. Thomas was moving much too quickly, and offering even more in erratically-applied evasive directional-switches, instilling further dread as the unpredictable continued approaching the Golden Bones raiders with absolute impunity, a dread they were given no warning or obstruction against embracing. And in the realisation that none were coming to their aid, the squatters would bear the visible signs of wide-eyed fear as they watched their doom cross the threshold of the breach, hands trembling as they ruined their shots on one who'd stormed the breach without even so much as a scratch inflicted on him for his insolence.

'You're squatting on Scar Hound territory, an' I'm the new landlord.... They call me,"The Shriven One", AN' I'M HERE T'PAINT MY FACE WITH YOUR BLOOD!!!!'

 

[Thalia Senn]

​

The Light. It was so powerful. It reminded her of that day in the caves. She hadn't seen, no, she had been avoiding Darth Solipsis since that day. She had failed him twofold. Not only was the Jedi she boasted about killing to him not dead, but she had also failed to kill her upon their second meeting. She couldn't return to him with nothing - and so she was here searching this "Domxite" for weakness. At least they would fall. Flashes of her past life, her life as the weakling Thalia Senn flashed before her eyes. Her first Master, she barely remembered her face now, then Jend-Ro Quill and Romi Jade at Jakku. Kaska Arden. Had she betrayed them? Or had they abandoned her?

Of course, they abandoned me! She could feel it. "Domxite" was trying to manipulate her now. Oh you think you're so clever...

I'd like to think so.

Tempest's lips curled into a snarl as the pain of loss filled her. It was a feeling she often shoved into the deepest, darkest parts of herself but now she would make "Domxite" feel that pain. She felt it flinch, in a way, and she pressed on. Somewhere off in the distance of the storm, she could hear the flapping wings of the Dark Drake that followed her. Its wingbeats mixed with the caws of the ever-present Stormcrows following Tempest.

​

Thalia opened her eyes to darkness. The deep waters of Pamarthe had swallowed her up. She didn't know how long she'd been down here but it didn't seem to matter. She nearly panicked as she began to breathe in the water. A bright light shined above her. Shedding her robes, she kicked with all her strength, swimming to the surface of the water. A storm raged all around her, a titanic wave easily five hundred meters high swallowed her up. She tried to outswim it but regardless it crashed over her. The salt burned her nostrils.

"Burn me," she thought to herself, "Salt and burn me." She tumbled and when she came to again she was floating on the surface of the ocean. She could feel the warmth from the light even though it was off in the distance of her peripheral vision. "Storming light, have to get to the...Stormin' light." Her arms were heavy but she pulled herself through.

​

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Location: Seeratter, Vault's South Entrance
Tags: TK-818 | Open

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Tu'teggacha gives thanks for Sinh's arrival
• The Mawites enter the vault
• Tu'teggacha suggests hunting down the surviving Shorak treasure hunters

The Night Vulture set down nearby, and Tu'teggacha rejoiced.

Trust was a rare commodity among the Brotherhood. Amongst a pack of howling predators like the marauder tribes, every warrior in constant competition for glory, riches, and simple survival, the only things that could be trusted were shared faith, greed, and hatred of the faithless; in the absence of a clear enemy, comrades became unreliable. But the supposedly more civilized elements of the Maw, like the Final Dawn and New Sith Order, were no more trustworthy. Every last member of such subfactions, and especially their leaders, had a hidden agenda. They, too, were only loosely allied, bound by common foes.

Their ultimate goals were incompatible, but their violent loathing was shared.

Tu'teggacha's brutal childhood had taught him that he could trust no one but himself. Later experience, however, had shown him that wasn't entirely true. While he could not place his full and unconditional trust in anyone else, he could trust them to act in certain ways. He could trust the Brotherhood to wage full-hearted war against all galactic governments. He could trust the Dark Voice to bind together all the disparate factions of the Maw, even if only to advance his own dark and mysterious schemes. And he could trust Sinh, the fearsome Knight of Ren who had served the Maw for so long, to protect him now.

Because Sinh was bound to the Brotherhood, and he knew the Taskmaster's value.

That was the ultimate truth of their loose alliance of darkness, after all. No matter their scheming and jockeying for position and glory, all the faithful knew in their hearts that they could not succeed alone. They needed the Maw, this powerful confederation of exiles and outlaws, in order to stand up to the entrenched forces of Civilization. They needed Tu'teggacha, the one who replenished their ranks with fresh slave-soldiers, the one who oversaw their network of supplies and troop movements, the master of the Brotherhood warfleet. Without him the Maw would be weakened, and that in turn would weaken them all.

"Good," the Ebruchi burbled in reply, his voice like the frothing of a tidal pool in a storm. "Together we will claim the riches within. They will fuel the Brotherhood's glorious crusade." Though the Taskmaster had a bodyguard squad with him, they were little more than expendable meatshields to his callous mind. Sinh was much more, a powerful, battle-tested champion. No matter the traps or guardians they encountered inside, he would be up to the challenge. Well, probably. There was no telling what the pirate queen had left behind to safeguard her riches. Still, far safer to have the Ren than to brave these dangers without him.

With a motion to his slave-soldiers, Tu'teggacha hobbled through the colossal doors of the ancient vault. His bodyguards held their fusion lanterns high, but the bright spots of light still only illuminated a fraction of the vast tunnel beyond. The place had been carved deep into the sea cliffs, and walls of dark stone rose up around the little group. The edges were ray-shielded, probably to keep the local rock-gobbling monsters from eating their way inside. The power drain to sustain such large shields must be immense, and yet it had kept operating for some two thousand years. Truly this place was incredibly well built.

Once it was looted, perhaps they could put it to use.

"First," the Taskmaster said, turning to Sinh, "we should hunt down the Shorak treasure hunters who survived our attack. A few of them fled inside the vault. Most likely the traps and guardians, whatever they are, have finished them all off... but we should make sure. Following their path will tell us much about this place's defenses." He knew that the Knight of Ren was skilled in pursuing sentient prey, and would soon discover whether any of the vault raiders had survived. If they could capture and interrogate them, they might learn more about what to expect in this place.

And if they were dead, well, that told the Mawites something too.

 

[Kralmus Orr]

Location: Seeratter System, Listening Post Approach
Allies: Marlon Sularen | Dyans Keto
Foes: Aeson Keel

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Kralmus boards the listening post and is engaged by the guard droids

​

Battle was joined, and the void was full of streams of deadly light. Both the Final Dawn and the Krath had deployed fleets to target this measly little station, a truly overwhelming force for the valiant but tiny group of defenders. No doubt the two Mawite subfactions were jockeying for position again, both eager to dominate the Core Worlds when the conquest was complete. If the Galactic Alliance fell before the Maw, there would surely come a reckoning between the two, a struggle for dominance between two rising powers seeking influence over the same sphere. For now, though, they needed each other. Neither could face their multitude of enemies alone.

For his part, Kralmus didn't care about the Brotherhood's messy internal politics. Mand'alor the Unchained would no doubt break free of the Maw at the first suitable opportunity as well, merely intending to use the loose confederation to gain the power to destroy all pretenders to the Mandalorian legacy, but that was a problem for another day - a war that could wait. A man like him, a predator turned feral by long years surviving alone in the wild, gave little thought to past or future. Kralmus Orr was focused full on the present, on the war unfolding here and now. Anyone with his head in the clouds, distracted by dreams, was likely to lose that head in a fight.

Slam-Clank! The dropship, having passed through the unfolding storm of laserfire mostly unscathed, engaged its magnetic clamps and locked onto the side of the listening post. The side hatch opened, revealing a section of unblemished bulkhead. It didn't stay that way long. One of the marauders aboard the transport, a wild-haired Scar Hound with glowing cybernetic eyes, stepped forward with a high-power fusioncutter and ran it around the edges of the door. One mighty kick caved the cut section in, revealing the corridor beyond. With a unified howl of "War! Death! Rebirth!" the marauders poured through the gap, its edges still glowing orange with heat.

There would be no taking their prey by surprise; the Alliance defenders were already on red alert, quite literally given the color of the pulsing emergency lights. This place was run by the SIS, and there was no doubt that they ran a tight ship - or station, in this case. Kralmus expected sealed security doors, well-defended fallback positions, and efficient evacuation procedures, the kind that staff were probably required to practice with monthly - or even weekly - evac drills. The SIS were no fools; they must have known that this day would come eventually, and they would have prepared for it well. To thwart them, the Maw would have to move quickly.

Crimson bolts pelted down the hallway almost as soon as the Mawites emerged, cutting down the first three marauders to get through the breach and confirming Kralmus's suspicions. The Mandalorian pushed himself through the gap and stepped over the bodies, letting the blaster bolts ping off of his beskar armor. It wasn't that he cared about shielding the rest of the raiders, though his presence near the front was accomplishing that; he just wanted to close with the enemy sooner. Switching his visor over to low-light vision, he stared up the corridor, searching for the source of the incoming fire. He truly couldn't wait to kill something.

Naturally, the SIS had denied him that pleasure. The Alliance placed value on life, not the opportunity for glorious death, and the foes that met the business end of Kralmus's axe were mere droids. Disappointing. With battle droids there was no fear or despair to enjoy, no satisfying gush of blood with each dismemberment, just a lot of clanking and beeping and sparking. These models seemed to have pretty good anti-blaster plating, holding up well against those marauders attacking with energy weapons, but not so much against the songsteel-beskar blade of the cannibal. The droids were surprisingly tactical, though, covering each other as they withdrew before his fury.

And if you didn't break them outright, they seemed to self-repair, rents in their armor healing over like scabs on a wound.

Well, this might be harder than he'd anticipated.

 

[Maris Fero]

Spoiler: tl;dr

+ Pipe squirmin'

+ Thinking about Enyo

+ Uh Oh Stonechewer Time.

- TWO -​

Location: Seeratter, Vault Ventilation Ducts, Present Day
Tags:

All was dark, and the world seemed very close and confined to the Shrike. Too many other beings, average-sized humanoids at the very least, the claustrophobia involved in navigating the oppressively tight ventilation cycling systems would have been as much of a challenge as the physical act of worming their way through the twists and drops. Not so the determined former apprentice.

Though the dream had failed to show her any detail of the route that she would need to take; The fact that any route at all had existed when she arrived had quelled the lingering doubts that she had about travelling to the planet at all. She had been guided here, and whatever had led her to this moment would surely be worth the effort.

It had better be. The route the Shrike had discovered was not only deeply uncomfortable to negotiate, but the sheer buildup of animal debris from nesting creatures and gathered grime of centuries was unpleasant to consider as the ex-ganger squirmed around a ninety-degree bend only to face a sheer drop. Quickly, Maris squared out her shoulders and thighs to brace herself against the sides of the squared chute, slowing the perilous drop that would have occurred from falling down the ten metres to the next level. To better control her descent, the wiry cat burglar guided the movement carefully using her climbing gloves to adhere to the otherwise smooth surfaces, but it was still a risky prospect.

As she recovered, Maris considered her former master, wondering what Enyo Typhos would think of the ex-ganger running after a dream and dragging herself through yet another maze, like some lab rodent. Perhaps her Boss still thought her dead since the stunt she had arranged to disguise her disappearance. She very much doubted it though; As elaborate and careful as Maris Fero had been, Enyo was no fool. Sooner or later, Maris thought, the boss would have seen the holes in the deception and have realised that Maris was still out there.

A small amount of light projected from the face of her helm, which illuminated a yellowed pile of bones that lingered at the foot of the fall. A previous interloper, clearly of local fauna that had taken the tumble in the dark. As she closed the distance to reach the bones herself the Shrike realised to her disgust that the remains were marked with the gnawing teeth of scavenging beasts.

Though the mask kept out the worst of the scent of the vent dwellers, from down there among their nests Maris was beginning to grow certain that she could smell them at each intersection and junction of the ducts. It wasn’t to prove much longer before she felt, rather than saw, the presence of the first furry bodied, leathery forearmed quadrupedal scavengers hopping warily toward the newest snack to fall into their lair.

Maris was just about to reach out with the force to try to wring the thing's neck when the whole section of aged durasteel construction suddenly shuddered under a heavy impact, scattering countless loose yellowed bones, knocking Maris onto her belly and upending the now panicked scavenger. The resounding squeal of buckling, tearing metalwork followed and for a moment the terrified beast and the prone interloper just stared at one another.

And then the whole section of ventilation duct about the scavenger beast seemed to compact, suddenly and under tremendous pressure. Maris could only watch and listen to the crunch and suffocated yelp that announced its end.

Maris waited, breath bated and stock still as the metal squealing continued, feeling the passage about her sway as something huge and heavy made its presence known. With a sudden and shockingly effortless motion, the whole duct before her was wrenched free, revealing the gnashing, mineral encrusted maw of a powerfully built arthropod-like monstrosity. A Seeratteri Stonechewer.


As the Stonechewer ripped free the last of the section of the duct and began to devour it's snack, Maris felt the vents' inclination change. She tipped suddenly downward. With a moment of surprise and panic, the Shrike tried to arrest her slide with the glistex gloves but only managed to slow her fall, spilling out and falling the three metres to the rubble-strewn floor of the shadowed passage, coming to a winded halt between two pairs of the beasts six hind legs.

As she gazed up at the beast still finishing its current mouthful she watched its small head turn, one beady eye seeming to dwell on her for a moment as the thing considered her coldly. This was not going to be good.

 

[Dyans Keto]

Reclaiming the Tetan Empire​

Post: 2
Objective: You should me Crown
Tags: Open

Spoiler: Fleet

Praetorian-Class Star Destroyer (Desolation)
Praetorian-Class Star Destroyer (Devastation)
Praetorian-Class Star Destroyer (Desperation)
Praetorian-Class Star Destroyer (Decadence)
Crucifix-Class I Destroyer (Dancer)
Crucifix-Class I Destroyer (Dabbler)
Crucifix-Class I Destroyer (Deliverer)
X10 Samael Class Frigate
x10 Cr90 Corvettes
X71 Squadrons Nssis-class Clawcraft
x30 Squadrons of Support Craft
X30 Spider Cruiser fully load with Crusader troopers

​

She sat aboard the landing vessel flanked on all sides by her personal guards dressed in their gold armor and holding their Double Swords. They sat there in silence as the lander approached the planet and began to hit turbulence of entering atmosphere. Her emerald eyes just stared down at the floor of the lander and she started to become lost in her thoughts. There had been many significant events that led to this point and now it was all just starting to be real. Her thoughts dwelling on her family wondering what her daughters were up to in this moment. She hadn't seen any of her four-daughter sin many years now because she felt she need to rebuild her legacy and their future that she had lost a long time ago.


As she thought about her children, she missed the pilot saying they were coming in for a landing and it was going to be a bit rough. The shaking rattled every part of the lander, and the landing was a hard thud and a few skips to follow before e the lander came to a stop. It was enough to knock her from her thoughts and she looked to the back of the lander where the bay doors began to open with a hiss. As they did so her guards stood up and awaited their Empresses to stand as well. The guards standing there just like statues unflinching.


Outside several other soldier were unloading from other landers and pulling resources from the various carriers that had landed. One group quickly set up a prefab building in a suitable and then called out to Dyans lander. With that Dyans stood up between her guards as they marched her off the lander to the tent. Stepping off the lander she took in her first real view of this planet rocky and drenched in gloom. She took in a breath of the damp air as she looked about, this place was calling to her even more.


The soldiers were unloading the Cargo and quickly setting up prefabs the beginning of this first settlement on site A. Other Soldiers were working on site B and C as well Site A would act as the Main command and headquarters for the Crusade. Site B would be manufacturing, and factory area and site C would be the beginning on of the Clone facilities though that would take some time. The simple stages of this colonization seemed to be well underway by the Crusade.


Taking it all in as she was being led to her command prefab building her and her Guards stopped in their tracks as they heard loud howling like noises all around them. Emerald eyes pulled away from the hustle and bustle of the base building. Her predatory sense kicked in as she her eyes began to scan the rocky hills off in the distance. "We are being watched." She remarked to her personal guards who were already preparing themselves for fight. Dyans then reached up putting her thumb and middle finger between her lips then let out a sharp loud whistle.


As she did this more troops nearby who were in the middle of unloading one of the carries stopped and formed up as they put out a call across there comes to the other soldiers who stopped what they were doing and began to form up in groups. The Crusade soldiers all conscripts from the various tribes of the Maw were becoming a very solid and disciplined army. Soon this well oiled machine would be set upon the core and Empress Teta.

 

[Maris Fero]

Spoiler: tl;dr

+ Fighting a Bug,

+ Lightsaber is missing

+ Traps revealed

- THREE -​

Location: Seeratter, Vault Ventilation Ducts, Present Day
Tags:

Everything seemed to slow to a still in that short moment that Maris lay sprawled on her back, winded, dust-coated and staring up at the increasingly exposed plasticrete. That particular material had remained hidden for centuries behind the vaults durasteel structures and various other metal alloys. The Stonechewer had apparently been busy grazing for some time.

Motes of dust and other particles, as well as the shredded remains of forcefully torn metal and masticated metalwork dropped down onto the Shrike like a dusting of snow. And how Maris hated snow. She swallowed behind her blank visored mask and allowed herself one more heartbeat to meet the grey, dead-eyed gaze of the monstrosity. As the two regarded one another, Maris wondered for a moment if the creature might be like one of those dopey, near mindless cattle creatures, perhaps too short-sighted to even see her let alone care. No such luck.

The raven-haired force apprentice felt the shift in the beast's temper and its sudden turn to territorial rage in the heartbeat before the beast showed any such outward desire to pulverise the skinny thing that had fallen into its latest banquet. Fighting her instinctual urge to curl up into a foetal ball to protect herself, Maris instead forced herself into a sideways roll onto her hands, just as a vast, powerful rear limb slammed down in the spot where her chest had lain a moment before. The sound of the impact resounded through the floor where she stood, and Maris imagined it was likely the sound had travelled further still.

Frustrated, the metal shredding octopod stamped with another pair of its limbs to try to catch the nimble thief, but by that time, Maris had pushed herself up into a crouch directly beneath the stonechewer and was focussed on keeping the bulk of the arthropods heavy body between herself and those legs, let alone the monster’s massive pincer-like, metal splitting foreclaws.

The Shrikes hand went to her belt to retrieve the battered lightsaber she had borrowed from Enyo, not much more than a training weapon but retuned and focussed, deadly in her hands. If it were in her hand. But the weapon was missing when she reached out, it must have been lost in the fall; Maris prayed that the metal eater hadn't crunched its way through her stolen blade already. Absentmindedly, the Shrike realised that she was bleeding from somewhere on her left-hand side, beneath the ribs; the slow wet warmth of spreading blood would be a concern for later. For now, she had a monster to kill.

The shock prod Maris carried as a nasty surprise would be unlikely to tickle the hardy beast, but the viciously sharp clear ceramic blade the ganger kept strapped to her thigh might be able to do some work on the monster's exposed softer underbelly. She drew the weapon, the weight easy in her palm and twisted it in her grip with a practised motion, the wavey edge of the transparent cutting surface catching reflections of some sort of emergency lighting that Maris had not yet had the time to examine.

Becoming more used to the lumbering monsters increasingly frustrated motions the young killer pivoted and slashed her shimmering blade along a long crease in the beasts mottled under flesh, carving into it as the beast choked out a distressed bark or pain. Hot, stinking blood spouted from the wound, smelling of a sulphurous breakdown even as it hit the air and began to pool beneath the bulk of the thing.

The passage they had encountered one another was relatively tight for a creature the size of a stonechewer, a fact that worked to Maris advantage as the pained beast struggled to turn to face its threat. Of course, the monster soon realised that and started to scuttle forward at a speed that surprised the Shrike, leaving a path of blood where it went and seeming suddenly less interested in prolonging its anger at being disturbed.

It got about ten meters away before the creature stepped upon one of the pressure plated traps ahead, and in a momentary flash of incandescent light, the whole passage was lit up brightly, making even the masked Shrike recoil as the field emitters flared and filled the passage ahead with a momentary energy field, A field that bisected the Stonechewer with a putrid smell of ionising flesh before the thing squealed and collapsed into two large twitching piles of legs and mineral-rich shell.

 

[Marlon Sularen]

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W H I S P E R S_I N_T H E_V O I D

FINAL DAWN
SEERATTER , OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

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SHADOW HAND COMMAND - TASK FORCE VADER
Commanders : Grand Overseer Marlon Sularen [Overall Command] Vice-Admiral Brentris Conshou [Main Fleet] Baron Wilhelm Vonreg [Starfighter] General Tylo Bellock [Infantry Detachment]
Main Fleet FDS Predator [100|100] FDS Resurgence [100|100] FDS Torment [100|100] FDS Defiance [100|100] FDS Retribution [100|100] FDS Judgement [100|100]
Starfighter Compliment TIE/fd Fighters | 68 Squadrons | 816/816 TIE/fd Interceptors | 60 Squadrons | 480/480 TIE/fdh Hunters | 14 Squadrons | 56/56 Chariot-II Missile Boats | 8 Squadrons | 64/64
Infantry Detachment HAAVs | 5 Squadrons | 40/40 439th Legion Stormtroopers | 2,000/2,000

Sularen watched as his TIE Fighters mopped up the Alliance X-Wings, overwhelming and annihilating them in a matter of minutes. Unless they received any reinforcements , the Alliance Forces here would find themselves overwhelmed by the sheer might of Marlon Sularen just like he intended. While such display of excessive force was unnecessary , Sularen always sought to remind the Alliance that regardless of their many victories against the Maw in the past , the Final Dawn would always strike harder the next time until the very foundation of the Alliance fell apart at last.

Soon enough , as Sularen’s Fleet continued to approach the Listening Post , they soon came across an Alliance Corvette which was soon overwhelmed by the overwhelming firepower of the Predator as it fired it’s main heavy batteries. Sularen smiled , there was little hope for these Alliance interlopers and their fate had indeed already been sealed. “Grand Overseer , we have eyes on hostile warships. A single enemy Starhawk mark three battleship and a Constance-class patrol ships. Orders?” an Officer said, interrupting the Grand Overseer’s thoughts at the Final Dawn’s inevitable victory. “Shame. I was expecting stronger resistance from the Alliance’s part especially considering we are on the verge of gaining access to a vital trade route that leads straight to the Deep Core.” Sularen began. “Begin charging our Superlaser Siege Cannon and target their Starhawk. We have no need to waste our Ammunition and Starfighters on a ship which can be destroyed with a single strike”

Within seconds , a portion of the Predator’s Topside Hull opened up revealing the Superlaser Siege Cannon which emerged from this opening as the Predator began to reorient itself to properly aim the Cannon at its intended target. “5 Minutes before the Superlaser Siege Canon is fully charged Grand Overseer.” an Officer said. The Grand Overseer smirked. This battle would soon be over within the hour and soon Seeratter would fall into the hands of the Final Dawn and ONLY the Final Dawn.

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Spoiler: TL;DR

• The TIE Fighters eliminate most of the Alliance X-Wings sent to attack the Mawite Dropships
• The FDS Predator's Superlaser Siege Cannon emerges from under the topside Hull of the Superheavy Battlecarrier and begins charging as the Predator reorients itself to target the Alliance Starhawk.

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Tags [Allies] | Kralmus Orr
Tags [Enemies] | Aeson Keel ​

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[Thalia Senn]

The light. It was so close that it warmed her skin even in the cold, black waters of the stormy sea.

"Come on Thalia, you've swam longer than this. Harder than this." Her mind flashed back to the first time her father had let her go out on the water alone. She'd taken that as "take my finest cutter and race her through Sharp Tooth's Gap". Suffice to say, that wasn't what he meant and she most definitely wasn't ready because she crashed the ship halfway through the 'Gap' and had nearly ended up a red splatter on the sharp rocks. She'd wanted her honor blade so bad then, even though she'd only been around for a single summer and an honor blade was earned either on or around a youth's second summer. That was the first time she'd consciously drawn on the Force, not only to protect herself but to give her the strength to swim the three miles off-shore she'd been.

The memory filled her with warmth and suddenly she was there, against the side of the boat. With a grateful sigh of relief, she gripped the side of the skimmer and hurled herself over. Her sopping wet robes slapped sickeningly on the deck and each breath she took came out in a heave and in with a gasp for life itself. When she finally had the strength she sat up to see the light and-

Something wasn't right. The reality marble shimmered, making her stomach uneasy. She touched her face and looked down at herself just to make sure this wasn't some sick dream, and well, it was...Of a sort but not the kind of dream she was hoping for. Sat before her, deep in concentration was...Herself. But not her as she remembered herself. This Thalia was worn ragged. Fatigue and stress were etched into the way she sat cross-legged, concern furrowed her brow and a near-constant scowl had left creases at the corners of her eyes and eyebrows. Something called out to her...The light...A lightsaber? In a rush, everything came back to her. Iris Arani , the train, everything.

The Tempest stirred, and with her a black mass she hadn't noticed before.

​

Wake...

The command came with the familiar presence and she did not disobey. Her eyes snapped open, the light from Domxite nearly blinding her. When her vision focused again she saw...

"You," she snarled, standing up and reaching for her lightsaber. An unfamiliar hilt was in her holster but she activated it anyways. A high-pitched whine accompanied the typical snap-hiss of a lightsaber. The blade came out in an unfamiliar shape, flat and with a clear edge to it. The red blade hissed as rain and ocean spray pitter-pattered against its surface.

Forget the past...Kill it if you have to...

Slowly the black mass behind her unfurled its wings and lifted its thick head. Beady golden eyes stared down at Thalia.

"You won't trouble me any longer..." Tempest said and as she did the browns of her eyes were washed away with pure Sith yellow. On reflex, Thalia reached out to the Force and a lightsaber hilt formed around the glowing Domxite and flew into her hand. The pink blade erupted from the hilt. Thalia had taken the most basic ready stance. She was ready for a fight too. She charged across the deck, blade raised to strike, and brought the blade down on her former, weaker self.

​

Before Tempest could strike, Thalia grabbed her second blade and the green blade snap-hissed to life. The strike was powerful and full of rage, but Thalia caught it between her own two blades, crossing them, and pushed the monster back. The black mass she now recognized as the Black Drake, a manifestation of the connection between this Tempest and Darth Solipsis , flapped its massive wings and took to the skies and took to circling above.

"Eyes on me, weakling." The read blade's strange sound, like a pained moan, swung towards her, bringing her back to the fight at hand. Sparks flew as the three blades danced on the limited space of the wave skimmer.

"This isn't fair," Thalia joked, "I just swam nine-hundred meters! You've been sitting on yer arse all night." The quip was rewarded with a swift kick to the chest. She felt the air leave her lungs and stumbled back, almost falling over the edge of the watercraft. "Oof. Stormin-!" The red blade narrowly missed as she rolled out of the way. "Salt and spray that was close..."

"Why are we doing this?" Thalia screamed into the storm but it was as if her words were salt on the wind. Tempest came at her again, the ferocity only increasing. There was no snarling face though. Oh, Tempest's eyes were quite mad but the anger didn't come from her face. It wasn't hot, but ice-cold like the waters that surrounded this boat.

 

[Thomas Barran]

2nd post

Thomas Barran
"The Shriven One"

Objective 3: BYOO
Tags: Open to interaction, Tommeh's hame!

THE LIVING ARTEFACT: THE MOONS OF RHIGAR - PART TWO

Defence Center, Rebirth Homestead,
Fort Shriven, Righar (Winter of 871 ABY)

<"Dreamer, you there?">

<"Still awake, what's up?">

<"What's the Shriven One's policy on the Golden Perimeter? Keepin' 'em up still, or...?">​

The Golden Bones had been dead for over a year, yet there were still some flayed corpses remaining at the perimeter of skeletal, lantern-backlit remains, though in their discovery of cattle and indoor vegetable crops, the ones among the Scar Hounds who still possessed stomachs would gradually begin to normalise their diets out of hunger and necessity alike. A telling story of what the Mongrel's tactical-reserve units had to endure to achieve comfort and stability on Rhigar in their first year, a telling tale of the agonies the remaining squatters suffered at the hands of the planet's returning Landlords, casting quite the horror-laden veil over the world with winds that muffled screams and rifle shots alike. An evil world, shimmering under the glow of it's three moons with evil intent, with evil occupants who suited the accursed frozen planet more than they would ever truly know.

<"No change in policy, nothing as far as the Bones are concerned.">

<"Ah, shit! Can't blame a dude for tryin', I suppose.">

<"Rook, I'm gonna be straight up with you.... I actually want the Bones to remain, they're my reminder of what you did to keep me alive. Each and every last one of them.">​

The homestead, all the ground beyond it, and Fort Shriven in particular had grown considerably since that night, with the Scar Hounds building tower-like structures that supported and made use of rising-heat principles to support life against the biting cold of the planet itself. With the power generated at the wider base of each tower, the warmth would be constant and easy enough support many forms of humanoid life as a result of this, and by the last months of 871 ABY, the last two were reaching the final segments of their construction-processes ahead of schedule. Rhigar was well and truly under the influence and protection of the Scar Hounds, in their rightful hands once more, not that this was ever truly up for debate among the Mawite tribes, not whilst their greatest warriors still breathed - and certainly not for as long as their Warlord still had fight left in him.

<"Alright, I'll keep it to myself then. No harm no foul.... In any case, need to ask - where is the Shriven One anyway? Haven't seen him since Tower: Devoid went up, and the engineers are getting curious now.">

<"I haven't the foggiest, Rook. I'll let you know if I hear anything though.">

<"If you're both that curious, head north.... Broken overpasses, climb o'er them. An' be quick about it.">

<"Copy that, Shriven. ETA should be five minutes. Dreamer out!">​

'What's he up to now, I wonder?'

Rook would have much and more to think about as he made his way to meet up with Dreamer, and yet much and more yet to think about by the time the Shriven One's subordinates began to make their way north, and enough that both Rook and Dreamer alike remained earnestly silent long after they embraced and long after they embarked on their walk to find their comrade. Thomas had let the duo in, allowing them into an inner-circle that never existed before them, a rare privilege as was perceived by those who just so happened to be the only survivors of his wrath by that point; and whether amnesiac had deathly designs on them still, or designs of a blessedly contrasting nature, it seemed that neither Rook nor Dreamer could say by that point. The comrade who let them in, confided in the only friends he knew, despite all his surface-level revelations by then, was still prone to giving them cold, murderous glares without warning at the time.

'If it turns out that this is our night, I'll say it now - I have no regrets.... Death and Rebirth will make gods of us in the next life, and we'll go with the pride of knowing that it was a living god who sent us on our way.'

THE LIVING ARTEFACT: THE MOONS OF RHIGAR - PART THREE

The Forge, Rebirth Homestead,
Fort Shriven, Rhigar (Winter of 871 ABY)

'This is the place he was talking about, isn't it?'

Looking up at the derelict shade of the building it had once been, the two Scar Hounds glanced up to the first and second floors one last time to be sure before they finally saw a flashing red glow, then hearing metallic clanging and the echoing clamour of grunted exertion accompanying the next flashes as Dreamer curiously began to draw closer first. As he followed close behind, Rook replied,'Something's telling me it is.... And it would appear his mind is much too preoccupied to be any threat to us today. Fingers crossed though, we'll just need to see for ourselves.', being the last thing said between them before embracing whatever madness the Shriven One was conjuring in the dark. They would climb the rusty fire-escape ladders on the eastern wall in silence after that, growing increasingly concerned and curious at the same time as the winds slapped at their flanks, pushing and pulling them to and fro as the metallic ringing steadily grew louder with every metre they ascended.

But then they heard the audible, agonising screams of a fully-grown man, and in recognising what Thomas sounded like in such anguish-filled circumstances, both Rook and Dreamer knew the voice not to belong to their comrade; as even in it's blood-curdling high pitch form, both raiders knew it would've sounded nothing like the voice they recognised as their friend's, confirmed in the clear pleas for mercy heard moments later. Shrieking for mercy at the top of their lungs, shrieking for mercy from the only one capable of ending the pain, from the very being who was tormented this individual, on a planet where none would even care if they were lucky enough to hear him scream. Yet moments later, the metallic ringing resumed, bringing the duo's climb back to some semblance of blessed normality once more as they finally made it onto the approach to the entrance of the Shriven One's new abode.

'ARE YOU THERE, BROTHER?!?! SHRIVEN?!?!?!'

The entrance doorway opened to them as soon as the clamour and clanging stopped once more, revealing the pale, shirtless form of Thomas Barran, covered in soot, sweat and blood alike. Even his trousers, apron, belt and boots were sodden with whatever work the amnesiac was occupying himself with, seemingly darkening the steam that emanated from Barran's pores at the time. Turning around, the Shriven One beckoned them follow as he exclaimed,'Welcome to my home, brothers! And if you can handle the heat, this can also be your abode if you so will it! Come in!', with demeanour much calmer than Rook and Dreamer had ever known it to be. But when the heat continued to rise on the way, they also began to understand the calm, much to their own surprise, and when they eventually reached the room where all the racket was coming from, the two raider would find themselves even more surprised by how marvellous the Woad's workshop was at first glance.

'Welcome to the Forge, brothers. Here is where everything finally begins to make sense for me, here is where I learn the vocations I wish to learn; such as, obviously, blacksmithing, an' less-obviously....'

Turning to a covered cage in the corner, just the silence alone was enough to make whoever was trapped inside recoil and drag across the durasteel-wiring underneath, whimpering and sobbing by the time Rook pulled away the ragged sheet that covered the bloodied human within. However, and without missing a beat, Dreamer instantly recognised the insignia tattoo on the upper-pectoral, though the victim's greying beard covered most of it at the time.

'.... Torture. I'll be honest, never could be my specific forte. And though I like inflicting agonies as much as the next Scar Hound, never had the knack or the slow-patience required for it. Everything else, heh! Seems everything else would be ideal wastes of my time though.'

A golden skull with the gang's name written above the brow in deep-purple Aurebesh, leading Rook's only friend to deduce the final outcome of their leader's days on Rhigar; a slow, agonising death for one who deserved it in what seemed to be more ways than what were being revealed in that moment. Taking good care to fall in line with Barran's expectations, Rook stared the Golden Bones' leader in the eyes with a slight chuckle and muttered,'My friend always was a bit quick to the kill, easily fixed though. As for me though, I for one genuinely wouldn't mind learning the art of torture from the Shriven One.... Rare has it's funny ways of showing face at times, but I'm actually here for the obscure though. Here to learn from the obscure.', slowly covering the sobbing mess with renewed apathetic chuckling, a wheezing, harsh mirth to accompany the heartless dismissal of his plight to make matters even worse for him.

'So what's that creature's story anyway? Something tells me that's for something much worse than any normal audacity, or transgression at that.... You should just spill it, brother. We'll understand, no matter what you tell us now.'

 

[Vesta]

Know Your Darkness​

Politics, at their heart, was something she was rarely a part of. It was both to her benefit and not, something which kept her a relative unknown while also preventing her from making the meaningful connections one needed to make the sort of waves she was keen on making. The trajectory of the Maw was becoming clear even to those who weren't in its inner circles, she doubted that the Alliance itself was anything more than in denial of what was coming for them and where. The core was, of course, the target it would always be - it had been ages back, it was now, and would be in the years to come. The likes of Dyans Keto and Marlon Sularen were the sorts that would always hunger for the power they could find there, though each had their own personal reasons which led them on that road.

It was that degree of personal interest which drew the Sith lord towards the plight of the Krath, the burning desire to reclaim what was perceived to be rightfully theirs. Seeratter was a planet that Vesta was unfamiliar with, but the drive Dyans possessed was one with which she was intimately familiar with. Her personal transport, slim and nondescript, made its way through the darkness of space with little in the way of cargo or crew. A single being was onboard, a person that resembled a humanoid space devoid of light more than it did a person, and the only object onboard was a token of that entity's own making. Her radio was silent, those that worked with her from afar preferring to let the woman do as she pleased rather than attempt to guide or interfere, but she heard so much from the world below.

The movement of light coursing through the leaves in the trees, the swirling torrent of water in streams and across oceans, chattering of birds with the clicks of insects interspersed between the sounds of higher lifeforms meandering about on the planet's surface. If it moved she could hear it, if it breathed she could see it, and if it lived she could feel it in the whispers of the force. Conflict with a Jedi had freed her from the cage her body had become and she intended to leverage it in a bid to sway the Keto to her side. If there was one thing the Krath understood, after all, it was power.